On the Brink (Vol. 1) (The On the Brink Series) (11 page)

Chapter
Nineteen

Monday
morning arrived all too soon with the annoying clang of my bedside alarm. I
turned the alarm off, got up, and made myself coffee. Duncan’s bedroom door was
closed. I envied him for getting to sleep in.

After
showering, dressing, and a second cup of coffee, it was off to Tremont and
another morning of Design I. This week, we were introducing the Adobe
Illustrator software, fortunately a topic that I could cover in my sleep. Tired
and more than a little distracted, I did my best, feeling guilty for my lack of
energy. I should have slept more. Or downed another cup of coffee. But what I
needed more than anything was to resolve things with Craig. Sooner rather than
later.

After
the class ended at noon, I decided to text Craig.

Do you have time to talk? I’m
free now, working at Perfect at 4.

I
sent the text, and then stared at my phone. Maybe he was in a meeting, or busy
with something.

His
text popped onto the screen a minute later.

In meetings until 3. How about
3:15, my office?

Relieved,
I quickly tapped an answer.

OK. See you then.

I
decided to take the train to Park Street, and walk to Kendall Square from
there. The unseasonably warm weather was holding, but I knew there wouldn’t be
many more days like this before the New England winter arrived in full force.
And walking, like painting, always helped to clear my head.

As
I strolled down Beacon Hill, toward the Charles River and the gray stone towers
of the Longfellow Bridge, I came to a conclusion. I needed to ask Craig about
Alessandra d’Acosta.

While
I trusted that things were long since over between them, how could I be sure
that Craig wasn’t still carrying a torch for Alessandra? She was gorgeous,
after all, and an up-and-coming movie star to boot. Exactly the sort of person
everyone would expect Craig Manning to date. I resolved to ask Craig about
Alessandra, and watch his reactions closely. I needed to know if he still had
feelings for her.

Approaching
Manning Tower, I checked my watch, confirming that I was on time. I entered the
building and took the elevator to the fourteenth floor. The attractive blonde I
remembered from my previous visit was seated behind the reception desk.

“Good
afternoon, Ms. West. Mr. Manning is expecting you in his office.” She started
to get up, presumably to announce me, but I waved her off.

“No
need. I remember where his office is.”

The
door to Craig’s office was open, and he was standing in front of the wall of windows
behind his desk, looking out over the Boston skyline. Dressed in a tailored
dark business suit and a slightly mussed white shirt with open collar, he
appeared deep in thought.

I
knocked lightly on the open door. He turned and swiftly crossed the office,
closing the door behind us.

“I’ve
instructed Suzanne that we’re not to be interrupted.” He gestured toward the
two Corbusier sling chairs in front of his desk. “Let’s talk. Unless you’d like
some lunch?”

“I’m
not hungry, but thanks.” I perched on the edge of one of the chairs.

Craig
seated himself in the other, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other.
He smiled, and ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing it away from his
face.

“It’s
great to see you,” he said. “I was afraid I’d scared you off permanently.
Anyway, you have my undivided attention.”

“Okay.
What I want to say is—how I feel about us is—you know I want to
keep seeing you, okay? But there’s so much I still don’t know about you. Your
work. Your life. All I really know is that your world is totally different from
mine.”

“Getting
to know each other takes time. And you can always ask me anything you like.
I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Okay.
Tell me about Alessandra d’Acosta, the woman who’s your number one love
interest, according to the Internet.”

He
rolled his eyes. “Ancient history. Alessandra and I had a six-month
relationship that ended a little over a year ago. I ended it, but if I hadn’t,
she probably would have. Ultimately, we wanted different things. It wasn’t a
nasty breakup, more like just deciding to go our separate ways. We parted
amicably and have remained friends. Next question?”

“Friends
is pretty general. What sort of friendship? Are you close? Do you see each
other often?”

He
deliberately met my eyes. His deep voice was calm and steady, although I
thought I heard a hint of frustration. “Alessandra and I are over. Completely
and permanently. As of a year ago. Since we move in some of the same circles,
naturally we end up seeing each other here and there, always in public.
Sometimes we exchange the usual banal pleasantries. How are you? So glad to
hear that your new movie has been well received. Et cetera. Does that answer
your questions?”

I
believed him. Not for the first time, I felt guilty about my trust issues.
Craig deserved better, and I resolved to make it up to him.

“Thanks
for telling me about Alessandra,” I said. “You’ve been nothing but honest with
me, and I can’t tell you how much that means. Last night and this morning, I
thought about our conversation on the Cape and I’ve come to a decision.” I
hesitated, searching for the right words. “I need to find out if I can handle
the pressure of being your girlfriend, in public. Hiding won’t let me do that.
I need to experience your world.”

As
he listened, Craig’s expression shifted from nervousness to relief.

“What
parts would you like to experience, and how?”

“I
want to understand you better. See a little more of your world.”

“So
you’re ready to go public? If so, that makes my day. Possibly my weekend, too.”
He looked thoughtful. “How about if we start in New York? This Thursday? At the
Guggenheim gala?”

“As
in the Guggenheim Museum?”

“Yes.
The gala is an annual event benefitting the Guggenheim Foundation. Cocktails
followed by dinner. Manning Biotech is one of the event sponsors. Some of the
work for the upcoming benefit auction will be on view. Oh, and one of the event
chairs, Caroline Holt-Fleming, is hosting an unofficial after-party at her Park
Avenue house for a handful of major donors and art world celebs.”

“Let
me think. I have to teach Thursday afternoon, and I’m scheduled to work at
Perfect on Friday.”

“When
do you finish teaching? I can send a car to pick you up at Tremont, and we can
fly from Bedford to LaGuardia.”

“I’m
done at 4 on Thursday. I guess I could just pack a bag with what I need, as
long as I’ll have time to take a shower and get dressed after we arrive.”

“Don’t
worry about packing a bag. Samantha will take care of everything. Any chance
you could get Friday off? We could do a long weekend in the city.”

“I
don’t know about getting Friday off, but I’ll ask. And I’ll text you the
location of the building where I teach on Thursdays. Have to run to work now,
before I’m late again.”

He
got to his feet as I rose from my chair. Taking my hand, he pulled me into a
searing kiss. Mentally cursing the clock, I forced myself to pull away, my face
flushed. I brushed my fingers over his lips and stubbled chin, looking into his
eyes, letting him see my desire.

“Rain
check, okay? I’m going to be late if I don’t move it. Post-work martini,
maybe?”

“Sure.
I’m working late tonight, so I’ll be staying here.” He smiled mischievously.
“I’ll look forward to finishing what we just started. Text me fifteen minutes
before you’re ready to leave, and I’ll have the car waiting.”

Chapter
Twenty

As
I took the elevator down to the fourth floor and Perfect Transcripts, I thought
about whether or not to tell Moxie and Sara that I was seeing Craig. On the one
hand, our relationship was very new, and part of me didn’t want to talk to
anyone about us. Except Duncan, of course. But Moxie and Sara were savvy women,
and they worked in the same building. I would have to tell them about Craig
before someone else did, or one of them saw us together.

I
made it to work with one minute to spare. Berta was sitting at her glass-topped
desk, proofing transcripts. Dolce lay by her feet, head between his paws in a
pose of resignation. Berta greeted me in her usual abrupt manner.

“Juliana.
Pizza in the breakroom. Emma’s. Have a slice if you feel like it. Remember,
Dolce’s not allowed to eat pizza. He has a sensitive stomach.”

I
repressed a giggle. Dolce’s digestive issues and dietary requirements were a
regular feature of office life that always made me laugh, but I didn’t want to
hurt Berta’s feelings. While Berta could be abrasive and authoritarian, she had
a good heart.

When
I got to the breakroom. Moxie and Sara were there, but so was Curious George,
hunched over the Formica-topped table, scarfing pizza at warp speed. I wasn’t
about to tell them about Craig in front of George. It would have to wait.

“Hey
Juliana,” Moxie called. “Have some pizza. Berta’s in a celebratory mood. Dolce
won a ribbon in a dog show on Saturday.”

I
pulled out an orange chair and sat down.

“How
was your weekend?” Sara asked. “Did you get a lot of painting done?”

“Some,”
I replied. “You know how it is. Time flies, and before you know it, the
weekend’s over.”

George
got up from his chair, chewing loudly and brushing pizza crumbs from his shirt.
A trace of pizza sauce hung from the side of his mouth, and his wire-rim
glasses were slightly askew. He jammed a final piece of crust into his mouth,
and wiped his shirtsleeve across his chin.

“Goi
geh dri,” he said through a mouthful of pizza before exiting the breakroom.

Sara
giggled. “I think he’s going to get a drink from the machine downstairs.
Probably so he can wash down more pizza faster.”

“Unfortunately,
no amount of pizza makes him type better,” Moxie said. “I swear it takes me
almost as long to fix his typos as it would to just do the work myself.”

“Listen,
girls,” I began, “there’s something I want to tell you. But I need you to
promise to keep it quiet.”

“No
problem,” Sara said. “I won’t breathe a word.”

“New
man or new job?” Moxie asked, leaning forward and dropping her voice. “My lips
are sealed.”

“Man.
Works in this very building.”

“That’s
a relief. I can’t afford to lose you right now.” Moxie sighed dramatically.

“So
who is he? Do we know him?” Sara asked.

I
drew a deep breath. “I’m dating Craig Manning.”

Moxie’s
eyes popped. “The Craig Manning? Ohmigod. How did you meet? Have you done it
yet? Of course you have. Of course. He’s sooo hot.”

Sara
shook her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Juliana. Men like him don’t
get serious about working girls like us. And he has quite the reputation.”

“We’re
taking it slowly,” I responded. It wasn’t completely true, but I wasn’t in the
mood for a lecture. “We’ve been dating for a month now, and we spent the
weekend together on the Cape. He’s invited me to New York this weekend if I can
take Friday off.”

“Oooh.
Very romantic.” Moxie grinned. “I’ll take you off the schedule for Friday.
Wouldn’t want to stand in the way of true love, you know. So, did this all
start the day you got soaked in the rain?”

“Not
exactly. I ran into him at an arts event a few days later, and he asked me
out.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “I really like him, and I think
he’s being honest with me. He admitted that he lived the wild life until a few
years ago, but he says he’s changed, and I believe him.”

“So
he’s a reformed rake,” Moxie giggled. “Ever since reading all those eighteenth
century novels in school, I’ve fantasized about being seduced by a reformed
rake. A dark, dangerous man with a dark, fascinating past.”

I
laughed. “Sure, Craig is dark, but I don’t sense any danger from him. He’s been
nothing but thoughtful and kind.”

“Just
take your time,” Sara cautioned. “Don’t let him in right away. Maybe he’s
changed; maybe he hasn’t.”

I
sighed. “I know it’s a risk. But isn’t it always? I mean, I’ve been burned
before. And it’s been a long time since I dated anyone, but Craig is different
from any man I’ve ever known. At first, I tried to push him away, but that was
because of my own fears and insecurities. I’ve never felt this way about anyone
before. I have to give us a chance.”

Sara
looked skeptical. “What do you mean, he’s different? In what way?”

“He’s
open about what he wants. He cares about what I want. But it’s not all serious
between us, either. We laugh together—a lot. I love his sense of humor.”

Moxie
shrugged. “He’s hot. He’s rich. He makes you laugh. What more could a girl
want? Don’t be a downer, Sara. Life sucks enough on its own without looking for
problems everywhere. Anyway, enough girl talk. Let’s get some work done.”

She
got up from her chair and headed back to her workstation. I started to follow,
but Sara stopped me.

“Look,
I know I was kind of hard on you,” she said. “Don’t take me too seriously. I
had a bad breakup a few months ago, and I guess I’m still licking my wounds.”
She paused. “You’re a good person, Juliana. I hope it works out for you.”

“I’m
really sorry to hear you had a rough breakup. Believe me, I know what it feels
like. It took a long time to even consider trusting anyone again. But I feel
good about Crag and me. I really believe we have a chance.”