Conflicts of the Heart (22 page)

Two food service workers wiped tables and restocked condiments. Soup for the night shift simmered in the tureen
on the tray line, filling the air with warm homey smells that made his

stomach
rumble.

“Teal wait a minute.”

She whirled around. “I don't want any of your crap. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I want to be alone.”

“Okay, be alone.” He went to the tray line and filled a Styrofoam cup with bottom-of-the-pot coffee, sipped it, winced, then roamed over to the table next to Teal's, leaving a chasm between them. “Want some?” His voice sounded loud in the empty room. He lifted his cup.

She shook her head. “Leave me alone.”

“With the hours you've been keeping, I should think you'd need some of this.”

She turned her back on him, then laughed heartily as she used to at the Peppermill after a good joke. “Never thought we'd be in this predicament.” She turned to face him.

“It's not a predicament. It's business.” Deep down, he always feared she might pull a raid. She just needed that friend in high places.

He moved over to her table and sat across from her. “I don't blame you for wanting Templeton. It's the biggest game in town.”

From the scuffle with Ann and the guard, a few ringlets from her up do had fallen onto her cheeks. She brushed them back, wearily rubbed under her eyes, and then let out a long exasperated sigh.

“You're not pissed?” Her eyes filled with suspicion.

“No. Just ticked you worked the floors.” He sipped his coffee and studied her. A hint of vulnerability had returned. He set down his cup and drum-rolled his fingers on the table a few times. “Did I hear you say Dana told you that it was okay to come in and organize?”

“You heard right.” Teal rose. “Think I'll get some of that coffee after all.”

She strode off to the tray line, her nose in the air. He watched her and could see her nervousness. If Dana supported Teal in her quest for an election, he could file charges against her. He had an endless supply of choices for handling Dana, but he couldn’t find one that was acceptable. Teal lied many times to get what she wanted. Saying Dana gave her permission to work the floors was a hefty stretch. He also knew she and Dana went back a long way. That alone made anything possible.
Would Dana just turn on him because they couldn’t be together? The more he thought about it, the more he knew he and Dana had dropped the ball when it came to discussing how to handle Teal's sudden appearance at Dana's apartment. They’d scattered like a flock of birds from a hawk in hot pursuit. Instead of going off half-cocked and ending what had been so good between them, he and Dana should have sat down and talked this out. Their communication skills matched those of his and his ex-wife's. He wondered if that was his problem. He wanted to talk to her, clear the air between them, find out the truth about Teal. Or did he just want to see her, hear her velvety voice and gaze into those dark, wistful eyes?

When he went to
her apartment to see her and Michael, reaching out to him, all he thought about was taking her in his arms and telling her everything would be all right. On the other hand, watching her work, she seemed self-assured, almost powerful in her talent. Clearly, deep inside she possessed a strength and character few people had. Somehow, he must get to her, tell her how he felt, and they must find a way to be together.

When Teal returned to the table, the reality of their skirmish settled in. His future, Dana's future, and even Teal's future, hung in the air.

Teal sat stirring her steaming coffee. “You look as sad as I feel. If I don't pull this off, I'm finished.” She glanced up, her eyes cold and proud. “Nothing personal.” She leaned forward. “I know it's a long shot, but I've got to try. Where’s the law that says I can't come in and organize? You're good, Patrick. I know it, but so the hell am I. Some of your proposals are too important to you. They don't need or want them here.”

“You can't give what you're promising them.”

“You don't know that. How do you know Dana won't be a little more giving with an old friend than to an ex-lover?”

Patrick rose to his feet too fast, sending his chair crashing to the floor. “It's not Dana's to give. She has a board to answer to.”

“Don't you worry your sweet face. I can get the employees what they want. If I were you, I'd make tracks. When word gets out you two have been sleeping together, all hell's going to break loose around here.”

Leaning on the table, inches from her face, he whispered, “Go for it, bitch!”

“I will.”

* * *

Friday morning, in the cavernous courtroom, John and Dana sat at the plaintiff's table waiting for Joel and Maxim.

With Joel's threat last evening for joint custody, they were about to play a new game. Joel's reprisal had been a shock. Never, for a moment, had she thought of Joel trying to take Michael away from her. Then she knew. It wasn’t Michael he wanted; Michael was only a
pawn.

The pain in her heart became a sick and fiery gnawing. The thought of Michael spending time alone with Joel, traveling back and forth, frightened the hell out of her. Joel wasn’t capable of taking care of Michael. She expected he would hire their former nanny or an outsider until Dana succumbed to the pressure and bargained her evidence away for full time custody. Though she liked their nanny-- she was with Michael at that moment--she couldn’t give him the love he needed at that crucial turning point in his life. A total stranger would be even worse.

If Joel had his way, he’d turn her life upside down. She felt as if her arms were tied behind her back, and her head caught in a vise.

“Don't worry.” John took her hand in his and squeezed. The fatherly comfort she felt from him before, even his past successes and confident style, which had impressed her, didn’t alleviate her fear of Joel’s duplicity. Why had she never seen that side of him before?

“That's what you said yesterday, and all the other times we've talked. Do you think a judge will take Joel’s side after he reviews the case?

“Once the judge sees our evidence, Joel will find himself in more trouble than he bargained for.”

Pulling her hand free, Dana shifted in her seat. “People change their minds about their kids. I'm afraid the judge will take Joel's side as he did the first time. God, I couldn't bear sending Michael back to him every week. It would kill Michael.”

“Believe me. I'll use everything in the book to get you and Michael out of this.” His brows furrowed. “Trust me.”

Maxim appeared out of nowhere at John's side, alone, dressed in an impeccably tailored dark suit like the one he had on yesterday, his bowler and briefcase clutched in front of him.

Where’s Joel?

“Good morning,” Maxim said, high-spirited. John stood up, took his hand, and shook it vigorously.

“I'm going to ask for a continuance. I've suggested my client make solid arrangements for Michael's care and transportation before we appear before the judge. I also need time to review Mr. Claiborne's
books and Mrs. Claiborne's evidence.”

“We're ready to go now.” John had a
twinge of sarcasm in his voice. “You only presented us with this evidence yesterday. I'm sure we'll have no trouble getting thirty days.”

Dana glanced at both attorneys. Joel now had more time to plot. He never bluffed when backed up against the wall. He fought dirty. She’d seen him in action and never liked what she saw. If he won, it meant moving back to Palo Alto, giving up her job at Templeton, never seeing Patrick again, living near her wretched ex-in-laws, and worse, Michael would be the loser.

John rose. “Thirty days. No longer. I want this settled.”

The courtroom had filled. She pulled herself up next to her attorney. “Does this mean I can leave?”

“No. As soon as Bennett gets his continuance, I want to go back to my office and discuss this further.” He glanced at his Rolex. “You and Michael can be on your way back to Ashton by noon.”

Maxim strolled up to the court clerk who placed the judge's files on the bench.

Dana bit her lip. “What if Joel just wants time to harass Michael and me?”

John placed his hand on hers. “Trust me. I won't let anything happen. If there's any harassing, it'll be me harassing him.”

Dana arrived home early Friday evening, fed Michael, and tucked him into bed. With her proposals in hand, she pulled a chair up to the kitchen table and sat down. She wanted to review them before presenting them before the board of directors on Monday morning. Planning ahead, she made arrangements with the day care center so Michael could stay with Ruta Morse in case the mediation ran late, which wasn’t uncommon during that phase of the process.

She stretched and went to the stove to heat water for tea. The answering machine light flashed. For the longest time, she stood stock still watching the red flashing light while the teakettle whistled. As she poured hot water over the tea bag, she listened to the three messages.
The first one, her mother, the second Teal, and the third Patrick. Of course, she skipped through the first two and listened to his all the way through. The deep richness of his voice gave her a start, unleashing feelings she believed hidden and in control.

She repeated the messages just to hear his again, then thought of his bragging to his friends about how easy it would be to get a contract out of her and Teal’s warning about his absentee father routine. She became rational again and decided not to return his call. He could wait until she returned to work on Monday.

In a sudden, unplanned move that astonished her, she picked up the phone and punched his number so fast she had no time to reverse her decision.

When she heard his phone ring, she realized he’d taken precedence over her mother and Teal. Did that say something?

He picked up on the third ring. Her first inclination was to hang up, but she didn't. “This is Dana.”

“Thanks for calling back. I didn't know if you would.”

“Why not, for heaven’s sake?”

“Do I have to draw a picture?”

She paused. “What's up?” She sounded trite, but appropriate, since she couldn’t show any emotion. Waves of anxiety washed through her from the top of her down to the tip of her toes.

“There's trouble at the hospital. May we get together and talk about it before Monday?”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Teal!”

“Teal?” Could this have something to do with the nagging feelings following her weekend at the beach house?

“Where woul
d you like to meet?” she asked.

“May I come over now? It’s vital.”

Dana didn’t want to be alone with Patrick. She gulped. “You’re kidding of course? I can't.”

“You mean you won't?”

“Whatever.” A pregnant pause followed. “Can't it wait?”

“How about tomorrow?
Bring Michael. We can meet and have ice cream or something.”

“Why can't it wait until Monday?” She hated sounding like that. More than anything, she wanted to see him, be in the same room with
him, and have him see Michael again. She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.

“Teal's blown the lid off at Templeton. She's been on the floors hustling employees. We've got a hot one running loose.”

Dana's memory of Teal pushing her for information whipped in so quickly her skin prickled and her ears rang.

“Come over now.”

Slowly, she replaced the receiver. A union war--one she might be responsible for--was all she needed in the midst of her other troubles

Sixteen

Patrick stood in the doorway and took Dana’s breath away. His eyes, filled with an expression of warmth and regret, caressed her. She feared she might drown in them. The clock seemed turned back to their last night together when their bodies had joined and, for the first time in more than five years, she felt loved, until Teal’s explosive knock at the door ended it all.

A public setting would have been appropriate for tomorrow’s meeting. “Keep your voice down.” She pulled him into the living room and shut the door. “Michael's sleeping. What's going on?” Patrick worked his way over to the sofa.

A soft laugher escaped her as her thoughts traveled back to the time Teal caught them together. Patrick ran out of the house as if he were a fox chased by a hound.

“May I sit?”

“Sorry.
Of course.” She joined him, taking the chair flanking the couch. How handsome he appeared with his muscular arms wedged into a black T-shirt, his blond hair shining under the floor lamp next to him. A five o'clock shadow added to his aura of masculinity.

“Our friend has decided to make a run on Templeton. She's got a foothold, I'm afraid.”

He seemed genuinely concerned about his future, for the first time. “You don't think the nurses will take her seriously, do you?”