“When are the interviews?” I asked.
“Beginning immediately after lunch. I’ve cleared your calendar of patients for the rest of the day.”
“Clear my calendar for the rest of the week. In fact, take the rest of the week off. I’ll handle the interviews and we’ll be swamped next week so you should plan on overtime,” I ordered her and went into my office, slamming the glass door. It was unusual for me to be out of humor to this extent. I could only credit it with the unresolved issue of Auggie, our upcoming marriage and the fact that I did not have a house underway… and it was her fault.
The light on my desk blinked, indicating a client was in the waiting room. I went through the door like a bull. “Patsy, I thought I told you…”
Before I got the sentence completed, she pointed into my waiting room and rolled her eyes. I turned and walked into the comfortable room and saw Beverly Dexter seated there, her long legs crossed at the knee which gave me the distinct impression of nothing but legs. I responded immediately and even my bad temper did nothing to deter it. “Ms. Dexter…” I started but was interrupted.
She stood up and said, “When are you going to begin calling me Beverly as I asked? But never mind that for now. You and I are going to talk… in your office… and now.” She literally seized my tie and pulled me into the inner office as if she had a dog on a leash.
“Thank you, don’t mind if I do.”
She smirked, dropped my tie and took a seat opposite my desk. She tossed a packet on my desk and said, “Read it, sign it and I’ll get started immediately.”
I was fairly confounded, but it was a welcomed respite from the dark mood I’d just been in. I sat down in my chair and asked, “Can I get you something?”
“No time for that, Worth. Read the papers.”
The packet contained contracts that essentially bound me to hire her to design and supervise the building of the house I wanted. It bore no resemblance to the blarney Auggie had superimposed but was the specifications I originally asked for. “You’ve changed your mind about me?” I asked her bluntly.
“Not until yesterday when Auggie called me. She filled me in that she’d been upset with you and sabotaged the project. I forgave her. It was in my financial and professional interest to do so.”
I had to admire her style. She came right to the point and she was motivated by ambition. I understood this.
“And Auggie?” I broached.
“What about her?” She crossed those legs again and I felt myself becoming mute.
“She’s okay with this?” I asked, somewhat dubious at the sudden turn-around of Auggie’s insistence that she be on hand to approve every aspect of the construction.
“Of course. Why else would she send me?”
“She sent you.” It was a statement of disbelief.
“What’s wrong with you? Of course she sent me. Why else would I be here? Look, Worth, I’m a busy woman and the weather hasn’t turned into a friend. Do you want me to build that house or not?” She was driving a hard line and knew she had me over a barrel.
“I need to look these over and talk to Auggie first,” I began.
“Why? You know what you want, I know what you want, now let’s get it done. Those are standard contracts, but I have other offers waiting. If you don’t want to sign, then give me a hug and I’m out of here. Auggie begged me to come back and give you another chance — and I really don’t understand why you’re so concerned with what she thinks. After all, she doesn’t appear to be the least concerned with what you think…”
“What makes you think that?” I asked her, feeling a rock in the pit of my angry stomach at what she was about to say.
“Well… only that I went by Brandon’s office this morning to drop off some papers for the Sunset development and Auggie’s car was in his parking lot. There wasn’t another set of tire tracks anywhere and nearly six inches of snow covered her car. It had clearly been there all night. So, I can only draw the conclusion that she was with Brandon. Look, it’s none of my business what’s going on here. Do you want to do business, or not?” Her look was daring me and I never backed down from a challenge.
I picked up a pen on my desk and signed every document without even reading them. I handed them to her. “Please ask my secretary to make copies on your way out,” I told her, my mind elsewhere. “Break ground and get started. We’ve got valuable time to make up,” I ordered and twirled in my chair so she could not see the expression on my face. I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut.
I heard her leave and watched out the window until her car cleared my parking lot. “Just lock up when you leave,” I told Patsy as I strode by.
I drove to Brandon’s building and there, alone in the corner of the lot was, indeed, Auggie’s car. It clearly had not been driven overnight. It confirmed what the Dexter woman had told me. Auggie had spent the night with Brandon.
I gave her one more chance. I dialed Auggie’s phone and it went immediately to voice mail. She wasn’t accepting calls. Then I dialed the house number and her dad answered. “No, Auggie isn’t here. She was out overnight and hasn’t returned yet.”
There was no way to describe the blackness that set into my soul. The woman I loved, the woman who was to be my wife, the only person on the planet I was supposed to completely trust had betrayed me. I tried to blank out the image of Brandon, naked and thrusting into her beautiful body and I thought I would pass out. Enraged, I knew I was out of control and so I went to the only place that had ever offered me solace… Joe’s.
I started drinking even though there were interviews set up for later that day. At that point, I didn’t care. Not about anything. Not about the business and although I tried hard to convince myself I didn’t care about Auggie, either, the truth kept rising. I pushed away my drink and drove, somewhat shakily, back to the clinic to wait.
Auggie
Brandon picked me up for breakfast and we began the slow drive back to his office. When we arrived, my car looked like an iceberg in the middle of what was an otherwise empty, but plowed parking lot. Brandon took my keys, cleaned off the car and held my arm while I got into it. It was icy beneath the snow.
“Brandon, what can I say?”
“Say nothing, it’s what I’m here for,” he answered and bent to kiss me on the cheek. “Sure you can handle the roads?”
“Yes, I’ll drive slowly,” I said and he nodded and firmly shut the door, tapping the hood as he walked toward his door. He turned once and waved and I responded likewise.
I hadn’t showered and was still wearing the tear-stained clothes from the day before. I decided to go home and get cleaned up first, but dreaded it because I knew it meant seeing my mother. Resolved, I knew I had to do it eventually and steeled myself for it as I pulled into the driveway.