Full Circle (45 page)

But hell, just because she would never be an
international dance champion like Carol didn’t mean she couldn’t
take lessons and become proficient enough to indulge Mark’s wishes.
Hell, Mark could teach her himself. She knew from what he’d told
her about his dancing past that he could.

Or maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe he wanted a
level of dancing that was too atmospheric for her to achieve. Or
maybe he just didn’t think she could learn.

All right, sure, she would never measure up
to Carol when it came to dancing, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t
dance at all. Look at the celebrities on those reality TV dance
shows. Those celebrities weren’t dancers, and yet they learned how
to turn two left feet into some fancy moves after a few lessons. So
could she if Mark would just give her a little credit.

Icy chills erected goosebumps down both arms
as she glared at the crossed-off item on his list, then at the
wedding bands and necklace.

Was this why he had yet to set a wedding
date? Because he wanted their first dance as husband and wife to be
a performance and not just a regular ol’ dance? Or was it because,
as she’d feared, he was still hung up on Carol? Maybe it was
both.

Such thoughts were irrational, but screw
rational. She was exhausted, emotionally drained, and had just
found Mark’s ex-fiancée’s engagement ring and bridal gift among his
things, along with a curt reminder of just how fabulous Carol had
been.

And she was beautiful, too. Gorgeous blond
hair, legs from here to there, svelte body. She recalled the way
Mark had looked at Carol after running into her—literally—last
weekend.

Maybe that was why Mark felt so ashamed of
the way he’d fucked her afterward. Like he’d had something to
prove. Maybe that’s why his eyes had been closed. Because he’d been
seeing Carol. In his mind, he’d been fucking Carol, and Karma had
just been the vessel to get him there.

With angry, sad tears burning her eyes, and
humiliation tying her stomach in tight knots, she got dressed then
grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

After two rings, Mark’s cell sent her to
voicemail, which meant he’d seen she was calling and had forwarded
her. He didn’t want to talk to her.

Well, she wanted to talk to him, and it was
high time they talked, so she dialed his office number.

“Mark’s office, this is Kit.”

Huh? Why was Kit answering his phone? “Is
Mark available?”

“Is this Carol?”

Double huh? Even Kit knew about Carol? Just
how far removed from Mark’s life had she become in the last week?
“No, this is Karma.”

“Oh, hi, Karma. Sorry about that. Mark’s on a
conference call and told me that someone important named Carol was
supposed to call and to interrupt him when she did. I thought you
were her. You sound different than you normally do. Do you have a
cold?”

“Uh, no.” But she suddenly felt sick.

“Oh, okay. Do you want me to have Mark call
you back when his conference call ends?”

Her phone beeped with a text message.

“Just tell him . . . on second
thought, no thanks.” She hung up and read her text. It was from
Mark.

I’m on a conference call. Will call you back when
I’m done.

So, he wanted to be interrupted when Carol
called, but her call could wait? Nice to see how
she
rated.

She wasn’t going to take that.
She
was
his fiancée, and her patience had run out. They needed to talk, and
they needed to talk
now
.

She grabbed the jewelry and the list from
Mark’s dresser, shoved them into her purse, stuffed her feet in a
pair of tennis shoes, locked up the house, and drove to Solar.

Lisa was at the reception desk talking to
Nancy.

“Hi, Karma,” she said. “What are you doing
here?”

“Seeing if I can get a little face time with
my fiancé.” She marched past. “
If
he can work me into his
schedule.”

“Whoa, okay.” Lisa caught up to her at the
stairs. “What’s this about?”

“It’s about how I’m done sitting quietly by while
Mark continues to hold a flame for Carol.”

“What? Wait a minute. Who says he’s holding a
flame for Carol.”

They were at the top of the stairs, rounding
the corner where her old desk—now Kit’s—came into view at the end
of the hall.

“He’ll take
her
call and not mine,”
Karma said. “What does
that
tell you?”

“Karma, wait a minute. I think you’re jumping
to conclusions. Maybe we should go down to my office and talk. Get
you calmed down.”

“Oh, I’m calm, Lisa. I’m perfectly calm.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“Karma, you are
not
calm.”

She stopped and spun on Lisa. “You know what,
you’re right. I’m not. But I’m not going to sit around waiting,
anymore. He needs to make a decision, and he needs to make it
now.”

She was done. She had reached her boiling
point. There was only so much she could take before she exploded,
and she’d been holding all her worry, frustration, and heartache in
for months. Like an overfilled balloon, there was only so much
tensile strength she could impose on herself until she popped and
blasted around the room like a manic torpedo without missile
lock.

“A decision about what?”

“Everything. Everything, Lisa.” She started for
Mark’s office again.

Kit popped out of her chair. “Karma? Hi. Is
everything . . . ? Wait! He’s still on his
call . . .”

She grabbed the door handle, giving the
perfectly coiffed Kit an over-the-shoulder glance. “I don’t care.
I’m his fiancée. And I’m pulling rank.” With that, she played the
entitlement card afforded to significant others—which she had never
played before—and pushed open Mark’s door, leaving Kit and Lisa
staring after her like she had just barged in on the President of
the United States.

Mark looked up from his desk. “Karma?” He sat
upright and glanced at his phone. “Excuse me, guys, but I need to
hop off. Something important just came up.”

Well, how about that? She was something
important. She rated, after all.

He disconnected, stood, and came around the
desk, worry etched on his face. “Why are you here? Are you okay? Is
anything wrong?”

What a loaded question.

If not for the hell she’d been through since
last Saturday night—and especially for the last hour—his concern
would have warmed her heart. Unfortunately, she was in no mood for
placation.

She crossed her arms and raised her chin. “I
want to set a date.”

“What?” His eyebrows scrunched together. “You
came all the way down here and pulled me off a business call to set
a date?”

Undeterred, she straightened her back and
said, “If you really want to marry me then let’s set a date,
Mark.”

“I thought we decided—”

“No,
you
decided!” She jabbed her
finger toward him. “You decided for both of us, and, like an idiot,
I went along with you!”

He quickly shut his door so the entire office
didn’t hear her outburst. “Karma, what’s wrong? Obviously, this is
about something other than our wedding.” He reached for her arm as
if to guide her to a chair, but she flung off his hand.

“Do
not
touch me right now.” Hadn’t he
said the same words to her last weekend? Well, now it was his turn
to keep
his
distance.

He held up his hands and took a step back.
“Okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why can’t you set a date, Mark?” She crossed
her arms. “Why can’t you sit down with me and help me decide when
we’ll get married?”

He sighed, but not from impatience. More from
frustration. Maybe even guilt. “I thought we had agreed to wait.
We’ve both been busy . . . with the house,
with—”

“Bullshit.” She stepped back and held up her
hand. “It doesn’t take that long to pick a date, Mark. So quit
making excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses.”

Right. Sure.

“Really?” She shook her head and paced to the
window. “Why don’t you just be honest with me. You don’t want to
marry me, do you? You want Carol. You still want Carol.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

She gestured to his phone. “I called you, and
you sent me to voicemail. So I called your office line. Imagine my
surprise when Kit asked me if I was Carol. Then I find out that you
told her that if Carol calls to interrupt you.
So . . . Carol’s important enough to take her call.
But when
I
need you . . .” She couldn’t keep
her voice from rising. “When
I
fucking need you”—she glared
at him, her whole body trembling as she planted her palm on her
chest—“because I’m
losing
my
fucking mind
over why
you won’t
talk
to me,
I
get tossed into voicemail.”
Tears erupted in her eyes, and she blinked several times, fighting
the burn as her chin and bottom lip quivered.

He was looking at her like she was Dr. David
Banner about to mutate into the Incredible Hulk.
“Karma . . .”

She cleared her throat and brushed her hands
over her face, pulling herself together as best she could. “No, no.
I’m fine. We’re here now. Let’s do this.” She pulled out her phone
and brought up the calendar. “Let’s set a date, Mark. You want to
marry me
soooo
badly, right? So let’s go. What works for
you? Or maybe I should get with Kit, since she’s got a better
handle on your life right now than I do. I mean, she knows about
Carol. I’m just the ignorant fool left wandering around like an
idiot.”

“Karma, please . . .”

“It’s okay. We’re going to set that date now,
right? So, everything should be fine, right?” She flipped through
the months. “How about September? That gives us four solid months
to prepare.”

He remained rooted across the room,
motionless, expression flat.

“September doesn’t work?” She flipped through
a few more months. “How about November or December? No,
no . . . too many holidays. Too many
excuses
.” She shot him a nasty glare. “But January could
work. It’s winter, so work will be slow. Oh wait.” She snapped her
fingers. “There
might
be a blizzard. We’d better keep
looking, because we simply can’t set a date on the off chance a
blizzard will interfere, can we?”

“Karma . . .”

She ignored him as her tears began to fall
again. “No . . . no. I can fix this, Mark. I can
find the perfect date, because I know your schedule is so extremely
tight and you can’t possibly work me in without a little help.”

“Karma . . .” He spoke more
loudly, but she kept on, flipping to February.

“Can’t do February. There’s still the threat
of a blizzard. And Valentine’s Day would just make our wedding pale
in comparison.” She choked back a sob. The volcano was about to
explode. “March. Hmmm. No, things start to ramp up at work in
March. Same with April. You can’t possibly marry me in spring,
because work comes first, right? July is out. Still too busy at
work. And then we’re back to autumn.” Her shoulders momentarily
slumped before she raised her head and screamed, “A whole fucking
year and a half from now!” before breaking down in uncontrollable
sobs.

The days of silence, the sleepless nights,
the inability to eat, and all her old insecurities had culminated
into what could only be described as a Texas-sized nervous and
emotional breakdown.

In a flash of movement, Mark rushed toward
her, took her phone, tossed it on his desk, and tried to pull her
into his arms.

“NO!” She pushed him away. “Give me a date,
Mark! Give me a goddamn date when you want to marry me!”

“Karma, let’s discuss this when you’re not so
upset.”

She stopped crying long enough to give him a
sarcastic laugh. “So now we can’t set a date because I’m upset,
like it’s my fault?” He tried to reply, but she didn’t let him.
“I’m upset because we haven’t set a goddamn date, Mark! Do you get
that?” It was just one of the reasons why she was upset, but it was
close to the top of the list.

He tried to take her hands, but she pulled
away, flinging herself toward the window.

“Karma, you’re angry. And I understand why.
Really, I do. I wanted to talk to you about this tonight, okay?
Can’t we just wait and talk about this tonight? At home? This isn’t
the right time—”

She whirled on him. “I’m beginning to think
it’s never going to be the right time!” She shook her head and
swiped the tears off her face as he stared at her in stunned
silence. “I’ve been waiting for months for you to get off your ass,
Mark. I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space. I’ve been supportive
and put my trust in you that you had my best interests at
heart.”

“I do.”

She held up her hand, cutting him off. “No,
Mark. You don’t get to do that to me.”

“Do what?”

“Lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!”

She shook her head. “Yes, you are. You’re
still hung up on Carol.”

Mark tensed and took a step back, his face
scrunched as if he were in pain.

“See.” She gestured toward him. “That. The
way you just reacted when I said her name. She’s still in there.”
She tapped her forehead. “She’s right there in the front of your
mind all the time. It’s like there’s three of us in this
relationship. You, me, and Carol. And I’m getting the short end of
the stick.”

“You’re not getting the short end of the
stick.” He shook his head and motioned as if he wanted to pull her
into his arms then thought better of it and stayed where he
was.

“The hell I’m not. For months, I’ve felt her
just sitting there. Between us. Competing with me for your
attention!” She reached into her purse and pulled out the jewelry
and the sheet of crumpled notepaper. “And then I found this today.”
She tossed the rings and necklace on his desk then smoothed the
sheet of paper as best she could as she read. “I want to dance
again.”