Been In Love Before: A Novel (5 page)

Chapter Seven

The four-story glass-and-chrome Callahan Building sat in the heart of Boca Raton’s premier business district, under the shady umbrella of two huge ancient mahogany trees. On Sunday only the security guard stationed in the white-marble-tiled lobby was working, and he greeted Diane Callahan warmly as she came inside.

“Mornin’, ma’am,” he said with a familiar smile.

“Morning, Seymour. I saw her Mercedes in her parking spot, so I must assume she’s upstairs?”

“Yes, ma’am, been here for hours.” He leaned forward to whisper to her, “She’s been doing that a lot here lately, ma’am.”

“I know. Thanks, Seymour. How’s Mary and the kids?

“She’s just fine, ma’am, thank you. Can you believe it, the eldest is graduating from high school?”

“Little Henry? Graduating from high school. Oh, sweet mother of God. Where does the time go?”

“Somethin’ else, isn’t it? You turn around and you wonder where the years went. You know what I mean, Miss Diane?”

“Sure do. You take care now.” She pressed the elevator button and stepped inside to make the short journey to the fourth floor. When she alighted, she looked around. It always felt strange coming in on a Sunday—so quiet. There were no ringing phones, no hustle and bustle of employees, no clients visiting, and lots of empty desks and darkened conference rooms. She walked to her mother’s corner office, which was right next to hers, and saw the light on there.

“Mother?” she shouted as she neared her office and then saw her sitting at her desk, poring over statistical reports. “I should have known I’d find you here.”

Coleen Callahan looked up from the spreadsheets on her desk and peered over her glasses at her daughter before returning to her work. “I won’t be long,” she muttered while she waited for the onslaught of questions that was sure to come.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding when I call you and you don’t answer your phone.”

“I’ve got a big presentation and meeting tomorrow. I want to be on my game.”

“Mom, we need to talk,” Diane said as she laid her purse on the sofa and settled into one of the black leather chairs facing her desk. “You brought me into Dad’s business four years ago with the promise that you would slow down and ease out of the day-to-day stuff, before turning it over to me. You’re working more hours now than ever before. Right?”

Her mother slumped back in her chair. “Yes,” she sighed.

“And another thing, we talked about you selling the house; it’s way too big just for you. I don’t see any of that happening. Maybe I should just go back to work at Philby’s.”

“Diane, honey, I know . . .”

“Don’t ‘Diane, honey’ me. I know all your tricks . . . and your secrets.”

Her mother looked away, and her glance caught the family photo of her and her deceased husband, along with a freckled little girl playing in the sand at the beach. The three of them. It was a happy photo. He was healthy. She winced as she tried to hold back the tears. “I just miss him so much,” she whispered. “I know I should be ready to move on, but . . . I just can’t. We had something special, something most other couples never achieve. I miss him so much.”

“I know it’s been five years since we lost Dad, but look what you’ve accomplished in that time. You built this tiny commercial real estate company into the second largest in the state. Now you have conglomerates that wouldn’t even talk to you years ago, knocking on our door wanting to buy the company.”

Coleen looked at her daughter, her business partner, and said firmly, “It’s not for sale.”

She had a reputation for being a tough but fair negotiator, one who was loved by her employees. On her desk sat two engraved walnut plaques. One read,

L
EAVE
Y
OUR
E
XCUSES AT THE
D
OOR
.

W
E
’
LL
F
IND A
S
OLUTION
T
OGETHER
.

The second one proudly proclaimed,

C
OLEEN
C
ALLAHAN

CEO: T
HE
C
ALLAHAN
C
ORPORATION

“I think Dad would be proud of the new Callahan Corporation and the way you’ve grown it. However, I think he would also say . . . it’s time for things to change, to move on. Maybe even find someone else to help fill your life and your time.”

Her head snapped toward her only daughter. “Never! There will never be anyone to take your father’s place. Now just go on . . . I’ll be done here shortly. Leave me be.”

“I didn’t mean that he would take Daddy’s place; it’s just that everyone needs somebody to talk to, to be with, to warm up to, and share a life with, that’s all I meant, Mom.”

“I know, dear heart, but every time I think about dating or going out with someone, I just . . .”

“I know. It hurts.” Diane stood and hugged her. “I love you. Come on, time to leave.”

“You go on, dear. Just a little bit more. I’ll be fine. This is a perfect time for me to get some work done. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Mom, you’re playing in the club’s mixed-doubles tennis championship later on today. Or did you forget about that?”

“Oh . . . no, I didn’t forget. Of course not. I’m sure Perry will be calling me soon to remind me. Just what I need, another trophy. This is the last year I’m playing in that damn thing, I swear.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last year and the year before. The truth is, you enjoy the competitive contest, and you love to win. That’s what drives you. Well, now maybe it’s time for you to slow down, like you promised.”

“I’ll think about it. I’ve had my turn at winning in tennis. Maybe you should go out for it next year . . . with Perry. Although he would never, ever say anything, I think he’s kind of sweet on you.”

“Mother, my divorce just became final, so the last thing I need now is another husband, and besides, he’s an employee, remember?”

“No, Diane, he’s a partner,” she said sternly. “Senior vice president of insurance sales and operations here at Callahan, not just an employee. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t forget, Mother. How can I? You’re constantly reminding me.”

Coleen started to respond, but instead turned back to the computer and stared at the screen filled with rows and columns of numbers, then gazed out the huge glass windows beyond her desk. “Maybe you’re right; I could use a change of scenery. But you’re one to talk; you live the business twenty-four-seven.”

Words were on her daughter’s lips, a sharp response, but instead she thought better of it and said, “Well? Are we leaving?”

“Let me just finish this last . . .” She was interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone and reached to answer it. “Coleen Callahan. Can I help you?” Her face lit up with a smile. “Hi, Perry. No, no, of course not. I didn’t forget. I just stopped by the office to pick up some performance reports for our meeting tomorrow. As a matter of fact, I was just getting ready to leave and change clothes.” She covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “He is so nice and pleasant all the time. So polite. How does he succeed in sales?”

“In spite of himself,” her daughter whispered in return while making a face. Diane picked up her purse and her mother’s briefcase, dangling it in front of her, motioning that it was time to leave.

Perry Winston had been the young owner of a smaller but very successful agency that Coleen had bought two years earlier. Part of the sales agreement was that after the merger, he would be not only in charge of operations but also part owner of the combined larger company—as a partner.

Coleen nodded. “Okay, then, I’ll see you for lunch.” Then she paused to listen to what he was saying before she responded, “I don’t know if Diane will be there for lunch, but I am sure she’ll come to cheer us on to victory. See you soon. Bye.”

Coleen turned off her computer and said, “Come on, let’s go. It’s too nice a day to be stuck inside.”

Her daughter smiled.

“Join me for lunch?” Her mother asked with her trademark grin.

“Mother. You’re incorrigible.”

Chapter Eight

“Miss Macgregor, I really want to thank you for coming in on a Sunday to meet with me.”

Mary Kate smiled and nodded for the woman to proceed. Even though she was new to the firm, she had been involved with pro bono abuse and divorce cases before and knew how these cases turned out—badly.

The woman swallowed. “Well, I’m not sure where to begin. And I’m a little nervous; I’ve never been to a lawyer before.”

“I promise, I don’t bite.” She smiled, trying to make the nervous woman a little more comfortable. “Start wherever you want, or try starting at the beginning. And please call me Mary Kate.”

The woman smiled and set her coffee cup on the glass cocktail table. “Of course. My name is Calley Terrell. I’ve known Phil, my husband, my whole life. We dated through high school and college, and when all of my other friends got married, we just followed along with them. Things were going great until they closed the office location where he worked and he lost his job. He tried, but couldn’t find a new job, even though he looked everywhere.” Mary Kate offered her a tissue.

“He tried the Internet, family connections, old bosses, and the newspapers, and even called all of his old friends.” She dabbed her eyes with the tissue.

“Take your time. Would you like some more coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

“What does Phil do?” she asked, looking over the information sheet her new client had completed and handed her.

“He was a salesman, working over the road for a glass company, and he was real good at it. After they closed the office here, the company wanted us to move back to the New Jersey home office, but we just love it here in Florida and hated the winters back home. My mom begged me to come back to Parsippany and move in with them. Just until we got settled, but Phil had too much pride to do that, said he wasn’t going to take any handouts from anybody. Well, then I got pregnant, and he took a job with a builder to pay the bills and a night job with a car dealer. He had a misunderstanding with his boss and got fired . . . he started drinking and then taking drugs. He was a different man, not the man I married.” She paused to stifle a tear and hold back her emotions.

“At first he just drank on the weekends, and then he began to drink nights, when he came home from the dealership. Soon it was nonstop. He had an accident with our car and borrowed one from the dealer to use; he told me it was a ‘loaner.’ The police came to our house and arrested him. The dealership didn’t press charges, but only on the condition he quit his job.” She stopped and looked away, putting her hand to her mouth.

“Then it began. He didn’t mean it, really, he didn’t. He was drunk and depressed when he first hit me. He apologized and felt bad, bought me flowers, but then a few days later he had a couple of drinks and got mad when the television broke—then he hit me again. I went to go to the other room, and he grabbed me and . . . broke my arm. I was in pretty bad shape for a while, and three weeks later . . . I lost the baby.”

Mary Kate moved to sit with her on the sofa and put an arm around her to comfort her. “That will never happen again,” she whispered to the distraught woman sobbing next to her.

They talked for more than an hour in the young attorney’s office. Her newest client poured out her heart about her dreams and aspirations—now all gone as she struggled in her abusive relationship. Calley had clearly been trying to be brave and hold back the tears, but soon a steady stream began to roll down her cheeks. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Calley, listen to me . . . ,” Mary Kate said, handing her another tissue.

The young woman paused for a moment, making a valiant effort to stop crying. “I don’t even know how I’m going to pay you. Or where I’m going to stay or . . .”

Mary Kate looked at her and said in a comforting voice, “There’s no charge for this service. Our firm believes in giving back to the community. But first things first. Where are you staying?”

“Home . . . he doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Hmm. Do you have any friends you can stay with for a few days until we get the paperwork processed?”

“My girlfriend Heather and her family live down the street from us, but she is out of town until Wednesday. Her husband took her and the kids to the theme parks in Orlando.”

“Well, you can stay with me if you like, with me and my cat.”

“Oh, that would be great, except I’m hyperallergic to cats.”

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Wait here.” She walked back to her desk and opened a lower drawer. Pulling out a large legal folder, she retrieved the cash envelope and withdrew some money, then handed it to her newest client. “Here, this should help out for the next few days until your friend gets home.”

“Miss Macgregor . . . Mary Kate, I can’t take your money.”

“I insist, please. That’s what this is here for, just in situations to help people like you get back on their feet. Use it for whatever you need to get situated, check in to a hotel, or buy an airline ticket and visit with family. I would strongly urge you not to go back home until we get things sorted out. My limited experience with situations like this show it can sometimes be very dangerous. Okay?”

Calley sobbed before whispering, “Okay, but I was thinking if I could find a temporary hotel room, or maybe if I could just talk to Phil with somebody there in the room with me, then maybe we . . .”

“Calley, that’s taking a big chance. But we’ll see. Okay? First we get you situated in a hotel. Try the Delray Dunes about six blocks from here. Ask for Robin. If she’s not there, tell them your name is ‘Julie Rush,’ then mention my name, and they’ll take good care of you. It’s a very small place, modest but clean. Go there and we’ll talk soon. Do you have transportation?”

“Yeah, a neighbor lent me her truck to use for a few days.”

“Good. Get something to eat, take a long hot shower, have a glass of wine, and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She handed her a business card. “It will all work out, okay?”

“Sure, Mary Kate. Thanks for everything.” She walked onto the elevator, and Mary Kate watched her face disappear behind the closing doors. She had an eerie feeling as she watched the elevator doors close on the frightened woman. Calley’s timid wave gave Mary Kate shivers down her spine.
Could this be the last time I see her? Alive?

She had spent the whole morning doing paperwork, and in a rare Sunday meeting with the firm’s senior law partners. Then she had met with her uncles and father, and last, with Calley. Four hours later, she was done for the day, and her Sunday was almost gone. It had been a long day.

When she left the deserted high-rise office building, she walked down the stairs since the elevator was off after hours. It was dark until the motion detectors switched on the lights, and she finally opened the door to the garage and went to her car. Then she made herself comfortable, turned on her music, and was ready to head home.

Graw removed her suit jacket, laid it carefully on the car seat next to her, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. She pressed the release lever on the dashboard of her red sports car and the convertible top dropped quickly into the rear compartment.

She shook her hair in the warm evening air and was off. She still had paperwork to review at home and then countless wedding details, all of which demanded her attention. At a stoplight she could feel eyes wandering over her body. Looking up, she caught sight of a truck driver ogling her long, lean, athletic legs, now revealed by her skirt, which was hiked high up her thighs. That was the only problem with a convertible, she mused. She hit the gas, and the pounding engine surged as she pulled away from the stoplight in her powerful red machine, leaving him in the dust.
Creep.

Looking at her bulging briefcase sitting on the passenger seat, she figured she had at least three hours’ worth of work left to do that evening. But she didn’t mind; she loved her job.

She had graduated at the top of her class in her Ivy League law school, and she had fielded many job offers nationwide before she finally took a position with the respected Delray Beach law firm of Block & Sawyer. It was run by one of the most respected attorneys in South Florida, Irwin “Sonny” Block. She knew she could make more money in New York, but she wanted to stay in Florida, near her family. Then her mom died, and she wanted to be close by her dad. He seemed so lost.

The law firm was involved in divorce and corporate law; it was tough, and the firm was relentless in pursuit of justice on its clients’ behalf. Graw fit right in with the rest of the firm. Clients loved the firm and referred their friends. The business grew by word of mouth when clients told others about the good work it did and, more important, that it could be trusted. Threats and unsigned notes came with the territory. “Don’t worry about the threats, but don’t ignore them either,” said the senior partner, Sonny, on her first day of work.

Graw pulled into the garage at her apartment complex and took the elevator up to the fourth floor. She threw her briefcase into her darkened home office, kicked off her shoes, and untucked her blouse from her skirt.

God, it’s good to be home.
Now she had to look over all her texts and e-mails about the wedding, the rehearsal dinner, and the hundreds of other details that needed to be handled. She still didn’t know if Mickey’s parents were coming to the wedding.
Is there something else going on? Could it be they don’t approve? How could that be?
Yet try as she might, she had never met his parents.
Strange, very strange.
She needed to talk to Mickey; there was not much time left.