Cake Love: All Things Payne (17 page)

My eyes hesitantly glance at Henrik to see him staring at something on the far wall. His knuckles are white from his hard grip on the glass and I can tell his body is tense. No one speaks for a minute and the air fills with only the sounds of our breaths.

Finally, Henrik stands and without looking at me, he walks over and curls his arms around me. The hug is tight and his body shudders as he takes a ragged breath. This is how we stay for some time. He finally releases me and pulls away, taking my hand in his as he leads me out of the room.

Once we are at the front door, he opens it and turns to me before I step out. "I understand Morgana; I'm not happy about it, but I understand. The only problem is I can't have you in my life if you don't want to be with me. I am not saying that to be mean, I am telling you this because it will hurt me too much to see you and not be able to touch you. I still love you and will forever be grateful you helped open my eyes. I’ll miss you Morgana."

Once I am outside his place and in the hall, I turn to tell him how I’ll miss him too, but he closes the door gently. I am left staring at blackness.

In a dazed state, I meander the hall to the elevator and decide to slowly walk the streets of Chicago in search of home. My eyes not really seeing the people, cars, and buildings as the images of the past hour race in my head. I’m numb as I wonder if I did the right thing.

Chapter 7

Payne’s Anti-Rule 1: When You Understand People You know How to Push Their Buttons.

Six Weeks Ago

"We’re better off without her. Ifyouthinkaboutit, she was just too good to be true. We need sssssomeone more real…real…listic in nature. Morgana was funny, sssexy, sssmart, and refreshingly ssssweet.  Ha! That’s fun to sssay. Someone like that doesn't exist. YouknowwhatIthink? I think sssshe was just a figment of my imagination." After my profound speech, I turn dramatically, slightly stumbling, because that's what they do in movies after the hero comes to some significant realization.

As I turn, the whiskey from my crystal tumbler spills on the window I was looking out of. I watch it drip down the glass and remember only a week and a half ago Morgana smeared her lips on this exact window. I bring my lips to the liquid drenched spot and begin to lick up the smoky alcohol. Before I realize it, my mind is racing to images of kissing her soft lips. How her greedy tongue would whimper for more.

"Do you need me to clean the window sir?" Winston's British cadence breaks me from my fantasy and I realize I am making out with the window. Instantly I right myself and stumble slightly in the process.

"Not right now Winnnsston, can’t you see I’m in the middle of s-something?” I continue to look out the window at the unusually calm lake water below, needing him to leave so that I can find the nerve to turn around.

"Very good sir. Mr. Edgar Mimir is on his way up. Shall I show him in here when he arrives, or do you need some more time with your something?" His tone is as dry as usual, but I know he is mocking me.

"No, ssssend him in. Did he say whyhescoming?"

"No sir. He gave no excuse, just like yesterday and the day before that."

"Yes, well," I clear my throat still refusing to turn around, "that will be all Winston."

"Very good sir. I will take the decanter with me for refill and return it momentarily."

I hear his hard-soled shoes brush over the rug before landing on the hardwood floor, the sound diminishing until there is silence.

The decanter can't be empty already. How much have I been drinking?

"Pillow, where was I?" I glance over at the blue pillow taunting me with how it sags on the beige couch.
Lazy pillow.
"Oh yes, Morgana… isanillusion. Perhaps I have a… a… a split personality and I don’t realize it.” I pause to reflect in my whiskey haze the idea of two personalities in one brain. My eyes grow wide and I whisper, “Or…. Iseedeadpeople…” I glance up, startled by Edgar strolling into the room looking confident, no, smug. As if he has the best life in the world.

Look at his perfect white teeth and golden, no, flaxen hair, like he just stepped out of a Thor movie looking all...Thorish! He probably has a mighty hammer at home that can destroy pain. I want that hammer.

"Henrik, I see you are having a liquid lunch,
again
."

His god-like ass makes itself comfortable on my leather couch. He's wearing cream colored pants and a brown cashmere sweater, unwittingly matching my décor. Looking down at my stained gray t-shirt that I’ve been wearing for three days and ripped dark blue jeans, I look like Loki's urchin son compared to him. My pants would be fine if the rip wasn't in my crotch. To my defense, the tear happened this morning when I dropped my sock while putting it on. It took a couple tries but I got the sock on my foot; the other sock proved to be more difficult.

"Are you just here to point out factsss or is there … a reason for your visit? Last I checked, I don’t work for Mimimmiirrr… Mimi R…. Mimir..… anymore."

I watch as Winston comes back in the room, setting the full crystal decanter down on the mahogany coffee table. Without a word, he turns and exits the room, while I am fixated watching his silver ponytail swing like a pendulum. My eyes fall to the amber crystal and walk over to pick it up.

"Why don't we have lunch?" Thor, I mean, Edgar blurts out just as I reach for the bottle. My head swivels in his direction as I close one eye so that the three of him become one.

"Not. Hungry."

Turning back to the whiskey, my hand cradles its neck as I see another hand cover the top. Do I have three hands? I count, one is on the decanter, the other is holding my glass, and one is on top of the decanter. I look up the arm of the third and nod as I discover it's not mine, but Edgar's hand.

"Henrik, stop this. Are you just going to sit here and drink everything away?"

"Yes." I swat at his hand but find I don't seem to have much strength. Sighing, I stumble back on the couch, spilling the small amount of whiskey that was in my glass on my shirt.

"Look at this. Oh, who cares?" I pull at the wet stain on my t-shirt and start to get up, but somehow twist my foot under the couch and fall on my face, while the glass bounces off the floor and rolls over to the fireplace.

"Crap I can't get my foot out. HALP! Help me Edgar, I'm trapped." I try to lift up to a seated position but a sharp pain shoots up my leg. Glancing up, I see Edgar just sitting there rubbing at his chin.

"
Why do you say you feel 'trapped' in a man's body?" A smirk appears on his face.

"Well, sometimes I get them menstrual cramps real hard," I reply and a moment later we both break out into laughter. Ah, Edgar. That's why I love him. He knows just the right time to break out a Raising Arizona quote.

He bends down and tugs at my leg, freeing my foot from the sofa's hold. I lay back and look up at the ceiling while my head spins slightly.

"She got in the program."

My eyes bulge at Edgar's statement. I tense and then lift up onto my elbows to look at him.

"I thought that would get your attention." Edgar sighs and looks down at his watch. "Come on, let's head out and get something to eat. I can explain it to you while we get lunch."

Edgar helps me off the floor and guides me into my bedroom so that I can change out of my stinky shirt and crotchless jeans. Once I am changed, he takes me down the block to a polish place. I’m thankful for the dark, old world décor; my eyes fearing light like a vampire. After our food arrives, I dig into my Hunter's Stew as I just now realize how famished I am.

"When does Morgana leave?" I ask nonchalantly while I swallow a bite of kielbasa.

He shakes his head while slicing a pierogi with his fork. "Oh no Henrik. You don't get that info quite so easily. Answer me this, why did you let her go?"

I stare down at the lumpy stew, swirling my fork around the golden liquid for a moment, wishing she never left. “It’s not like I had a choice. She walked out.”

Edgar chuckles and I look up to see him shaking his head. "Henrik, you always have a choice. It may not be as easy as going to her place and knocking on her door right now, but you can always try to win her back. What have you done the past few days? Nothing. Sitting on your couch, talking to Pillow, and drinking yourself stupid doesn’t count as being productive."

My eyebrow rises at the pillow comment.

"Yes, I know about Pillow. You seem to forget that I was your roommate in college and after graduation. Don't think I didn't hear your long one sided conversations with your pillow. Don't even get me started on Captain Cock." His laughter fills the space as several diners turn to look in our direction.

"Whatever Edgar. Like you don't name your junk." I roll my eyes and take a large sip of my water.

"Of course I do, but that's only for the ladies to discover."

"Don't you mean lady? One lady in particular. One lady who works in HR, and also, and it has been confirmed, is the spawn of Satan!” His smirk falls at my confession as he nervously eyes his cutlery and his hand rubs the back of his neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Henrik.”

"Look Edgar, I don't care where your mysterious named cock wants to settle into for the night, but don't think I am oblivious to you and Evaleen."

His eyes widen for a moment at the mention of her name. He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it just as quick. Bringing his finger up to point at me, he opens and closes his mouth once again. Finally after a long pause he speaks, "Don’t' try to change the subject. We’re talking about your cowardice with Morgana, not me and...um...not me!"

I hold my hands up in the air in surrender. "Fine. How am I being a coward? I gave up my job for her."

I expected surprise or confusion from my confession, but all I get from Edgar is a smirk.

"Yes, your little take-credit-for-her-idea trick. Don't think I didn't know what you were doing with that. Evaleen told me that morning that Morgana had come up with an idea that would help the company. She said it had something to do with the distribution issue we had. So, I knew as the words were leaving your mouth, while you sat there explaining the idea after we caught you two, that you were lying. It wasn't until after you left when Jacob started discussing letting Morgana into the program that I realized what you had done. Well, Bravo! You helped her and pushed her away all at the same time."

I grumble under my breath about how she left my office. Edgar cups his ear leaning toward me. "What was that Henrik? I don't think I heard you."

"I said, she already told me how she believed we should end our relationship. I was just making it easier for her."

"No, you were making it easier for you. Henrik, I have known you for fifteen years, and in that time I have never seen a woman have such an effect on you as Morgana. Shit, for the past ten years you were pretty much a robot. Come into work, bark orders, work late, go home, sleep, get up, and do the same thing all over again. I hadn't seen you laugh in a long time."

I shake my head and turn my attention to the waiter at the table next to us, really not wanting to continue this conversation.

"I remember about a month ago we had a meeting and the client was late. Morgana had stepped out to grab something at her desk. Jacob brought up that her birthday had passed and we didn't celebrate it as we usually have cake for our employees. I joked that if we brought a cake in for her birthday she might take it all for herself. Everyone laughed, but you added that she might try to elope with it. We all broke out in hysterics. It was like the old you came back for just that moment, the one who found the funny in everything.
She
brought that out in you."

"Fine. So I love her and she helped melt my icy facade. It still doesn't change the fact that she wants nothing to do with me." I glare at him. He's right, I did change, but nothing can stop her from moving forward. Not even if I sober up and make a great life for myself.

"The damage is done Edgar. I screwed with her too many times. It's best if I just let her live her life." I sink back in my chair sobering slightly as the wave of defeat washes over me.

"Do you really think winning over a woman like Morgana is easy? That it's not going to take walking over burning coals and falling on your face a few times before she comes around? I didn't want to have to go there Henrik, but you are forcing me to take drastic measures here." Edgar looks around, then leans forward and squints his eyes at me, lowering his voice and continues, “Henrik, what would H.I. do?”

My eyes flicker at his question. I immediately picture Morgana as Holly Hunter's character Ed, crying because her fy-ance left her. Instead of the fy-ance causing the pain, it's me being a dick.

Shit.

"He would go after her. You know I hate when you’re right Edgar."

Edgar gives me a large gleaming white grin, leans back in his chair while folding his arms over his chest. “Yeah, but I give you the sexy tingles so you can’t stay away.”

I giggle and nod. "Yeah I'm all tingly for you Edgar. Now will you finally tell me when she leaves?"

"Tomorrow."

Crap.

****

After Edgar told me when Morgana was leaving, I quickly raced home, cleaned myself up, and booked a flight. It's Saturday and I am standing across the street from her new apartment building in New York. I already knew the location of the program apartments from when I came here last year to help speak at the graduation ceremony. One of the students had a party in their room to celebrate. The apartments are tiny and it was very crowded, so I didn't stay long.

Luckily, I remembered the general area where the building was located and what the building looked like. After walking around the neighborhood for twenty minutes, I found it. I am just about to cross the street when I see Morgana exiting the building with some guy next to her.

Ugh, he looks sleazy. He's got that stupid surfer look going with the wavy blonde hair, disgusting jean jacket, and laid back style.  She, of course, looks stunning in sexy fitted jeans and a cute navy jacket. I want to run across the street, push her up against the brick building she is walking by, and kiss her until she forgets she’s in New York. I also want to push Blondeie into oncoming traffic, but I guess I can’t have everything.

I swear, I'm going to lose it if he touches her. They meander a few blocks and head into a bar. After a few minutes, I go in and notice they are towards the back wall, near an old timey stove. I make my way to the bar and order a beer, slowly nursing it.