Mustard on Top (29 page)

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Authors: Wanda Degolier

BOOK: Mustard on Top
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Instead, she took the time to make Theo’s favorite meals, play board games with him and Ben, and to shop for the essentials Theo didn’t know he’d need. When Theo wasn’t home she studied for her fast approaching chemistry final.

She stepped from the shower, and pulled a plush, new, navy-blue towel off her rack. Based on the lavender scent, the towel had been freshly laundered. Soft against her skin, she was surprised, once again, by Ben’s generosity and attention to detail.

Helen dressed then found Ben sitting at the kitchen table working on his laptop. He smiled and stood, pulling her into a hug and kissing her on the mouth. She kissed him back and they lingered lip-to-lip pressed together.

Helen knew they were taking the ruse to fool Theo too far since they’d begun making love with alarming frequency. But analyzing her relationship with Ben was another thing she planned to put off until Theo left.

When Helen pulled away, Ben said, “Morning.”

“Good morning.”

“Ready for your final?”

Helen sucked in a deep breath and nodded. She’d confessed to Ben how nervous the test made her.

“You’ll do fine.”

“Thanks again for quizzing me yesterday.”

“I had fun. By the way, I need to go to Chicago in a few days. There are a few cases that can’t wait until after Theo leaves.”

Based on his phone conversations, Helen was surprised he hadn’t gone back sooner. The length and intensity of his calls with clients and coworkers stunned her. She was beginning to respect the magnitude of his job. “Of course. No problem.”

“I’ll make sure I’m back in time for Theo’s going away party. I’ll probably have to go back for a while before the transition is complete.”

“You don’t have to come back for his party.”

“I’ve missed everything else; I don’t want to miss that too.”

Even Theo seemed to sense the time the three had together was special. He’d made a point of being home when he could. After eating breakfast and doing housework, Helen left for the Nalley Community College.

While sitting at a long table, butterflies danced in Helen’s stomach as she waited for the professor to hand out the final. With sweaty palms, she accepted the twenty-page test.

Helen read the first question. Her mind went blank, and her heart rate shot up. Forcing herself to breathe slowly, she skipped the first question, and moved to the next. No recollection. She skipped the second question then the third. Panic took hold. She flipped the page. The test seemed like it was written in a foreign language until she hit the section on food additives. She answered one question, then the next. As the answers came to her, she began to relax. By the time she completed the section, other pieces of what she’d learned had found their way back into her brain.

She tackled the section on fuel cells followed by electricity. Helen took the entire time allotted, three hours, and finished the test with enough time to double-check her answers.

In high spirits, Helen headed to work, pulling into the parking lot twenty-minutes late. She jogged across the street and noticed Agatha sitting at a table with the hulk of a man next to her. When Agatha waved, Helen’s stomach tightened, and her pace slowed.

“Helen. There you are.” Agatha and the man stood, he towering a foot over Agatha. “The schedule says you’re supposed to be here.”

“I just came from the college, I had my final today.” Helen didn’t need to explain herself, but liked throwing the word college into the conversation.

“Helen, this is Moe. Moe, Helen,” Agatha said.

Helen acknowledged the hulk by offering her hand. His hand cocooned hers in a gentle grip. “Could you excuse me and Agatha for a moment?” Helen asked.

“Certainly,” Moe said with a slight bow.

Helen grabbed Agatha’s elbow and led her behind the Hot Diggitys’ building. “What are you doing bringing him here?”

“It’s perfectly all right dear.”

“No it is not all right Agatha. I don’t want him here,” Helen argued.

“Helen I know you don’t approve, but you must get used to the fact he’s part of my life now.”

Helen’s high spirits were replaced by a burgeoning headache, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. She ought to terminate Agatha’s employment, and be rid of the whole mess in one fell swoop, but Helen didn’t have the heart.

“What did you think about the IPO information I left you?” Agatha asked.

Helen let out an exasperated growl. “I haven’t read it.”

Agatha frowned. “We were hoping to discuss the proposal with you.”

“We? I’m not discussing anything with him.”

Agatha gripped Helen’s hand hard causing Helen to acknowledge her anew. “Wait here, give me a minute.”

Agatha returned to the table where Moe sat. They exchanged a few words then Moe set a briefcase on the table and clicked it open. Agatha retrieved two folders and brought them to Helen.

“Since you’re obviously not in the mood to chat, I’ll get to the point.” Agatha handed Helen the folders. One was an inch thick and the other, thin. “Open the one on top first. Please.”

If they didn’t have years of friendship behind them, Helen would have tossed the folders in the recycling bin, instead, she opened the top one then staggered back. “Whoa.” She snapped the folder shut then decided she’d misread the check.

Too embarrassed to ask, Helen sheepishly opened the folder again. “Wow.” On top of the pile of documents was a check written to her for $209,000. “What’s this for?”

“Forty-nine percent ownership with the right to exercise certain business decisions. Everything is in the contract.”

“Are you nuts? This could buy half the boardwalk!” She’d exaggerated, but the amount of the check was absurd. “Agatha, I can’t take this.” Helen shoved the folders back at Agatha.

Agatha held her hands up refusing to take them. “Dear. This is not charity. This is what Hot Diggitys is worth if you choose to follow the business plan I outlined for you. Actually in a few years it’ll be worth much more than that.”

“I can’t.”

“Why don’t you have Ben go over it?” Agatha suggested.

Helen shook her head and continued to hold the folder out.

“Ben can reassure you that you’re protected,” Agatha urged.

“I’m not worried about my protection. I’m worried about yours!” Helen said.

“The other folder is your first franchise contract.”

“When did that happen?”
How could that happen?

“There’s more in the works. You need to read the paperwork, Helen.” Agatha smiled. “You’re an entrepreneur.”

Helen glared in response.

“I’ll give you a few days to think. I should go, Moe’s waiting.” Agatha turned and began walking.

Helen wondered why Agatha and Moe couldn’t wait until Theo had left for college to discuss business like Helen had requested. Reluctantly, Helen tucked the folders under an arm and entered Hot Diggitys. After dropping the new documents on her desk, Helen washed her hands then made her way to the front.

****

When Ben stepped into the muggy Chicago sunshine, the temperature was in the nineties and a wall of humidity had him working to pull air into his lungs. Sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down the collar of his shirt as he climbed into a cab. How quickly he’d forgotten the discomfort of wearing a tie.

Foregoing a stop at his condo, he went straight to the office. He stepped inside the air-conditioned building, and it was like greeting an old friend. The receptionist waved. “We missed you. Did you have a good vacation?”

Ben struggled to remember her name. Had he ever known it?
“I did. Thank you.”

Heels clacked on marble floors as women hurried by. There was always a sense of urgency at Blake, Esteban & Associates. People moved at unnatural speeds. How had he never noticed that?

The polished, stainless steel doors of the elevators split in half. Inside, mirrored walls reflected his image. He was tall, broad-shouldered with a full head of hair. The consummate trial attorney. Ben pressed twenty-three, one floor away from the ivory tower. The twenty-fourth floor was reserved for partners.

Meredith, a petite blonde, eight-years his junior, slipped in the elevator as the doors were closing.

“Well look who’s back.” She pressed nineteen then reached out and pinched Ben’s thigh. “So how’ve you been?”

Ben was surprised when he had no reaction to her. They’d enjoyed a healthy physical relationship. Ben hesitated. “I’m leaving the firm. Don’t know if you heard.” He’d been insensitive not to tell her sooner.

“No.” Her eyes were widened ,and her lips pursed. “Why?”

“I’m moving back home.”
Home.
“So, how are you?”

“You are a turkey. Were you planning to tell me?”

“I just did.”

“So where’s home? I don’t think you’ve ever said.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Meredith’s eyebrows rose. “O-kay then.”

The elevator slowed to a stop. They were at the 19th floor. “Have a wonderful life, Meredith,” Ben said, meaning it.

“Is this goodbye?”

“I’m sorry.”

As Ben made his way to his office, there were greetings all around. Apparently, the news of his resignation had not reached his colleagues. His office was as he’d left it: antiseptic and tidy, except for an overflowing inbox that sat on a credenza next to the door. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed off downtown Chicago and sunsets.

Ben went on automatic pilot, connecting his computer to the twenty-four-inch, flat-screen monitor on his desk. The allure of details dragged him under its spell. Work numbed him, and the way hours slipped from one to the next. His methodical approach was the opposite of the fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants way Helen ran Hot Diggitys. Ben wondered at the frequency with which Helen entered his thoughts; considering her needs had become as natural as considering his own.

Ben dug in. He had a scheduled meeting in forty-eight hours with the three lawyers who’d been assigned to take over his caseload. Ben worked through the night, clawing his way to the bottom of what seemed a bottomless pit. When the sun rose, he sat in his chair staring at his computer working. He worked until seven p.m., then exhausted, he retreated to his condo and collapsed in bed.

Ben returned to the office by six the following morning. Four hours later, he gathered the paperwork he needed to distribute. Ben felt unprepared for the meeting; he hadn’t tied up all the loose ends on his cases, but if he continued working, he’d miss Theo’s party.

Every step toward the meeting room was heavier than the last. Giving away his clients would seal his fate. He was throwing a brilliant career, giving up a six-figure income.

He stood before the large oak door, took a deep breath, then heaved it open, and stepped inside. The room was near capacity, not the four attorneys he’d expected. Rather, the firm’s partners, all twelve of them, were seated around the huge oak table. An ancient reverence had him reeling. The room had enough firepower to take out a small planet.

Startled, Ben backed out. “I didn’t realize the room was occupied.”

“Cooper, sit down,” his boss, Ivan Chernov, said.

Ben quelled the urge to rake his fingers through his hair. “Pardon?”

“Sit.” Ivan gestured toward an open seat.

Confusion set in. Ben set the folders he’d been carrying on a side table and reluctantly sat in the chair his boss had indicated. A month earlier, he would have been elated to be included in a meeting with the partners, now weariness overtook him. He interlaced his fingers on the tabletop, and leaned forward hoping to convey interest.

“We were shocked by your resignation,” Ivan stated. “We understand you were trying to get some additional time off to deal with a family emergency prior to your leaving.”

“That’s right.”

There were two types of attorneys, those who had a life outside of work and those who rose to the top. Ladder-climbers, the types that made partner in a firm the size of Blake, Esteban & Associates didn’t do family emergencies. Work came first.

“Is this crisis ongoing or has it stabilized?” Ivan asked.

Crisis? Jeremy and his problems seemed a lifetime ago. “Everything is stable.”

Ivan glanced around the room. “Shall I do the honors?” he asked. A few partners gave their assent then Ivan said, “We’ve been doing some thinking. You’ve been here almost nine years and have done an outstanding job. You have a loyal client base, which is a real asset to this company.” Ivan paused. “We’d hate to lose you.”

“That’s why we’re prepared to offer you a full partnership,” Tag Hart broke in. An unlit cigar, pinched between his lips, hung out of the side of his mouth.

Partner? Tingles from the adrenaline made him shift his weight in his chair. Could he pass up the opportunity of a lifetime? His mind worked the angles. Maybe he
could
entice Helen to move. Chicago was within driving distance of Emerson after all. With the money he’d be making he could hire a fleet of nurses to follow her around Nalley.

“I think we’ve stunned him speechless,” Fay Atkinson said to a round of laughter.

He would be stupid not to consider their offer. “Can I see the contract?”

“That’s my boy.” Someone smacked him on the back as Ivan handed him a contract.

****

Helen had rushed the entire day and by the time she arrived at Emma’s parents’ home she was exhausted. Two grocery bags full of munchies dangled from her hands as she knocked. The door swung open.

“Hello Helen. Thank you for coming early,” Irene, Emma’s mother, said in a singsong voice. She wore a floor-length, robin-blue, satiny gown with softball-sized, tomato-red flowers. A red sash wrapped around her waist.

“Of course.”

Irene’s gaze dropped to Helen’s bags. “I’ll get someone to help you with those.”

“No worries. I got it.” Helen pulled the bags in closer. It seemed demeaning to make another person carry them.

“Are you sure? It’s no problem.”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

Uncomfortable with the opulence, Helen followed Irene through the palatial estate. The dining room table was filled with mini-quiches, shrimp, a berry platter, and more. In the center on a pedestal sat a giant white cake. Like Irene’s dress, the floors gleamed. The entire home seemed to sparkle.

Helen wanted to stuff what she’d brought in the nearest trash can. With her single-parent insecurity kicking in, she wondered what Theo thought when he spent time at this house. He’d never mentioned a word.

Helen remembered Emma’s complaints about her mother’s obsession with beauty. Irene had forced the girl into getting rhinoplasty. Plus, Emma had endured the humiliation of beauty contests until she put an end to the ordeal by giving herself a splotchy tattoo of a flower on her chest.

The kitchen was a sea of granite and stainless steel, like her remodeled kitchen only ten times bigger.

“Set the bags here.” Irene indicated one of two islands.

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