“You don’t need to worry about a thing,” he reassured her, sounding loving, but fake to Blaise. She knew him well. “She could never handle your job. There will never be another you.” But she wasn’t so sure. One day there would be, and maybe that time was now. His sympathy sounded insincere.
“You never know,” she said calmly, sounding noncommittal. “So how’s life in L.A.? Do you get to the beach every day?” He had moved to Malibu, in a spectacular house she had seen in a magazine, while he and his wife posed by the pool. The wife he had supposedly still been planning to divorce, even after Blaise left him. Another lie until it became obvious it wasn’t true. They looked like the perfect couple in matching white shirts and jeans, with his arm around her, and California smiles, in the magazine spread she’d seen. Even after leaving him, seeing the article had upset her, and hearing from him only made it worse. But she always took his calls and was never sure why. Probably because there was no one else to talk to about her life. They knew each other so well, and familiarity counted for something. It was a poor excuse, but the only one that made sense to her. But he always managed to hurt her feelings, even when he appeared to be nice. Sometimes it was even worse when he was. It made her miss him, and the good times they’d had before she learned the truth. He had been so convincing. And now she no longer believed a word he said.
“We ought to have dinner sometime, for old times’ sake. I’m coming to New York in a few weeks,” he said in a smooth voice. Like the snake in the Garden of Eden.
“Yeah, maybe,” she said vaguely, although she knew she wouldn’t. She had no desire to torture herself to that extent. All she did now was take his calls and listen to him, but never see him. She hadn’t seen him in over a year and didn’t want to again. Her ultimate goal was to stop talking to him entirely, by phone, text, or e-mail, but she hadn’t achieved it yet. “I’d better get back to work. Thanks for the call.” Why was she thanking him? she asked herself as she hung up. For what? Upsetting her again? Scaring her about Susie? Making her doubt herself? Reminding her of what a liar he’d been and how badly she’d been hurt? She had felt like roadkill for a year after they broke up, and now she was numb. She couldn’t listen to any man now without wondering if he was lying to her. Andrew’s legacy lived on and maybe always would. Blaise could no longer imagine believing a man again, and didn’t want to. There was no room for romance in her life anymore. And with Susie Q in her face, romance was the last thing on her mind. All she wanted was to save her skin. And the rumors about Susie were rampant. She was management’s new Golden Child, and they thought she could do no wrong, although she had yet to prove herself. And they loved her youth and her look.
Two weeks after Susie arrived at the network, Blaise was working on a story, when the phone rang and Mark was out to lunch. She picked it up herself. All she could hear at the other end was incoherent sobbing, and she had no idea who it was, or if the call was even for her.
“Hello? … Who is this?” Blaise asked the unknown caller from a blocked number, sounding confused. “I’m sorry…. Are you there?” And then she heard a familiar scream. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in years. Salima. She had screamed that way as a baby, and when she started to go blind and was scared. Blaise’s heart started to race. “Salima? … Talk to me…. Is that you?” And then the voice broke down in sobs, she was talking incoherently and saying something about Abby, but Blaise still couldn’t understand what it was. “Baby, come on…. Slow down…. What happened?” With a feeling of panic, she wondered if Abby had quit, or been fired. It was the only reason Blaise could think of for Salima to fall apart. And if she’d been fired, Blaise would force Caldwell to bring her back. There was nothing they couldn’t fix. “Where are you?” Blaise asked her, wondering if Abby was there. Had they had an argument? Was Abby hurt?
“At the cottage,” she said in a tone of anguish. It was the first thing she had said that Blaise could understand.
“Where’s Abby?”
In answer to the question, Salima broke down in sobs again. It was several very long minutes before she could speak again, while her mother told her to breathe.
“She got sick…. She woke up this morning with a fever…. I called Mrs. Garner and asked her to send the nurse. She called the doctor and they took her away. They took her to the hospital, and they wouldn’t let me go with her.”
“Baby, she’ll be all right,” Blaise said in a soothing tone, but Salima only cried harder. “It’s probably just a really bad flu, and they don’t want you to catch it.”
“They said she had meningitis. I called the hospital, and they wouldn’t let me talk to her. They said she was sleeping. I never got to say goodbye to her, Mom.” Her voice was raw, and a chill ran down Blaise’s spine.