Red Hourglass (26 page)

I sat down and turned on my computer. There was an email from HR. All employees were “required to undergo a compulsory health screening for our new health care provider.” I was to report to the cafeteria at four thirty and I had to “be prepared to give blood and urine samples.”
It’s a good thing I don’t do drugs
.

The phone rang.

“Conan Casey’s office.”

“It’s Mimi.”

“Hi Mimi. What’s up?”

“Have you seen that email?”

“Yeah.”

“Well this is the biggest load of bullshit. As if it’s not bad enough that they’re throwing people out of their homes and businesses and onto the streets, now they want our blood!”

“Maybe they just want to find out if we have any health issues.”

“I don’t want to get poked by needles!”

“I understand,” I said, “but just bear with it … it’s part of the job.”

“UGH! I’ll see you later for lunch.”

“Okay, see you later.”

* * *

Conan was waiting for me when I got back from my health screening. He looked as suave as ever with his neatly combed hair and sleek suit. I was holding my arm where the nurse had stuck me with a needle.

“I see you’ve been for the health screening,” said Conan.

“Yeah. A lot of people are really unhappy about it.”

“I know. I wasn’t too happy about it either, but our new health insurance company insisted. They’re only looking for preexisting conditions and genetic indicators that point to possible issues down the line … it’s not for drug testing.”

“That’s almost worse,” I said. “Is Wilmar going to fire people with preexisting conditions or bad genes?”

“Of course not. We’re a big corporation, but we’re not monsters. We’ll make sure everyone gets the care they need. That’s all. I promise.”

“I hope so. I’ll be very upset if people who really need health insurance are suddenly fired.”

“Don’t worry,” Conan assured me. “That’s not what this is about. Anyway, it’s Friday, shall we go to dinner?”

“Yes, I’m hungry from blood loss,” I teased, pinching his arm.

“Are you going to change?”

“Oh, is it
that
kind of dinner?”

“It is your birthday dinner. I think it’d be nice if you wore something special … like that pink gown with the crystals on top.”

“My birthday isn’t until next week.” It was a good thing he reminded me. I’d almost forgot about my fake Halloween birthday.

“It takes three months to get a table at the restaurant we’re going to. I’d left it a little late to make the reservation and tonight was the closest I could get.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you at the elevators.” I took my garment bag off the coat rack and went to the bathroom. I put on a little make up and fixed my hair before dropping the garment bag back at my desk and grabbing my flowers.

“You look gorgeous,” said Conan as he kissed me on the cheek.

Everyone in the company knew we were an item by then, but it still made me sort of uncomfortable.
I hope Mimi hasn’t told the White Queen that I have feelings for him.

Conan’s limo was waiting for us in the parking lot in the basement. The chauffeur opened the rear door and said, “Good evening.”

“Wonderful evening my man, wonderful evening. We’re going to L’Etoile,” said Conan.

“How did you know my birthday’s coming up?” I asked as I slid across the seat.

“What?” Conan looked at me like I had two heads. “You work for me. I have access to that information. I thought you’d be pleased that I was interested enough to find out.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me? It’s sort of creepy knowing that you find things out about me behind my back.”
I hope he doesn’t go digging too much
.

“Scarlet, I want to know everything I can about you.” He took my hand and kissed each finger. “Every little thing.”

“Conan, believe me, you do not want to know
every little thing
about me.”

“Of course I do, even it takes me a lifetime to find out.”

“You’re talking nonsense now. Stop.”

“What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“Feelings come and go … and anything could happen tomorrow.”

“Now you’re the one talking nonsense. You make me want to be a better man.” He squeezed my hand. “No one’s ever made me feel the way you do. You know I love you.”

“How do you want to be better?”

“I want to be a better person … treat people better,” said Conan as he looked out the window. “I’ve also been thinking about how my father wants to keep control of the company in the family. I’m seriously thinking about being the CEO after he retires.”

Oh hell, if he’s in line to be the next CEO, the White Queen will target him for sure
.
If I stay with her, maybe I can get her attention off Wilmar, convince her to go after another competitor.

“You should stop loving me. I’m no good for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I had a very, very bad childhood. I don’t come from a good family. I do things that I’m not proud of.” I wished I could tell him the truth about everything, but all I could do was dance around my ugly reality.

“Are you talking about your obsession with knives? You play with them all the time.”

“You noticed?”
Damn, I let that slip
. “I wouldn’t call it an obsession, but I’m afraid that I could hurt someone one day … and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Scarlet, you love me. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I do love you, but … what if I lose control one day and accidentally hurt you? Or what if I fall out of love, or you do something that really angers me and I want to stab you in revenge?”

“Scarlet.” He held my chin and stared into my eyes. “You’re everything to me. If I ever do something that makes you want to stab me, then I’ll probably deserve it.” He pulled my chin toward him and kissed me. “And then I’ll stab you back.”

I instinctively slapped his face. He touched his cheek and looked to see if the driver was watching in the rearview mirror. I was relieved that the slap didn’t leave a mark.

“I was kidding. I’d never hurt you.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Please save that stuff for the bedroom.”

“Conan …” I pulled back from him. “Would you still love me if I turned into a monster?”

“If that ever happens, I guess we’ll find out.” He chuckled and shook his head. “A monster, really? You have a strange imagination.”

“Not really. I could turn into a monster at any moment and destroy everything in my path.”

“Very funny. I don’t see any signs of a monster here. You have an overactive imagination and you’re being silly.”

“No, I’m not,” I said. “It may sound silly to you, but I’m serious.”

The chauffeur parked and opened the rear door. I took Conan’s hand as I got out of the car. I desperately wanted to tell him the truth about me, but I wasn’t even sure I knew the truth.
Am I a half-truth or a half-lie
?
Am I real or unreal
?
Will he still love me if I tell him
?

The packed restaurant had a lavish interior with enormous chandeliers that must’ve held hundreds of light bulbs. Between the chandeliers and the candles on the tables, the place was bathed in a golden glow. Murals of wild animals were painted on the walls, and a jazz band was playing soft music in front of beautiful stained glass windows that reached to the high ceiling.

The maître d’ took us to a window table that overlooked the East River. Brooklyn was twinkling across the water, and the headlights of all the cars crossing the bridges into Manhattan reminded me of fireflies.

“
Bonsoir
,” said a waiter dressed in a tuxedo. “M
onsieur
, are you ready to order?”

“Scarlet, do you mind having the set menu?” Conan asked as he clasped his long, slender fingers.

“Not at all.”

“We’ll take the four-course meal with oysters, lobster bisque, black cod, and dark chocolate gateau … and a bottle of your finest Cabernet Sauvignon.”

“
Merci
,” said the waiter as he took our menus. “I’ll be right back with the wine.”

“When was the last time you celebrated your birthday?” asked Conan.

“I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated my birthday.” The only birthday I even remembered was the night I watched the seconds tick toward midnight on my stolen watch. My birthday meal was the half-eaten cheeseburger I’d taken from a McDonald’s tray. It was the same night the White Queen rescued me. “I like to think that my mother celebrated my birthday with me before she left but I just don’t remember because I’ve blocked the memories.”

The waiter arrived with the wine and Conan told him just to pour it.

“That’s sad. But I’m very happy that we’re out tonight for your birthday … since it’s your first real birthday celebration. Here’s to a gorgeous young woman on her birthday.” Conan raised his glass and clinked it to mine.

“Thank you for celebrating my birthday with me.” I took a sip of wine and looked at the elegant Cartier Tank watch on my wrist that Conan gave me a few months ago. “I appreciate it.”

“I want you to celebrate more than your birthday.” Conan reached across the table and curled his fingers tightly around mine. “I want you to celebrate living, to experience the joy of being alive.”

“I don’t think I know what living is. I feel like life just takes me … and I flow with it.”

“Feeling joy and happiness is one way of knowing you’re alive.” He slid his fingers over my wrist. “Ms. Walters, I am happy to report that you have a pulse. I can confirm that you are in fact alive.”

“My heart may be beating,” I said, pulling away my hand, “but I feel dead inside.”

“Scarlet, you’re really not yourself tonight. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little under the weather.” I sighed.

The waiter arrived with our first course. A dozen oysters glistened on a bed of ice. They looked delicious, but somehow dull.

“Conan, I’m not normal. I don’t remember my birthdays and I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t think I really have much to live for.”

“Scarlet,” he said, taking my hand again. “You’re alive, you’re here, and you may as well be happy.”

“I don’t know what happiness means. How can I be happy?”

“I can’t tell you what is happiness, but I can do my best to make you happy.” He lifted his wine glass by the stem. “This is one way of experiencing happiness. Cheers.”

I reluctantly lifted my glass and drank to the toast. I hoped that the red wine would ease my pain and confusion, but it didn’t. Conan did make me happy, but our days were numbered. Being with him was like tasting a forbidden fruit. After the first bite, I was never the same again. A part of me wanted to throw myself into the experience of being in love with him, but another part of me wanted to hide from it, to keep myself safe from what would follow. I knew that once it was over I’d be left with the painful memories of what could’ve been … if only I wasn’t an agent.

“We better eat these.” He winked and slurped down an oyster.

“You’re right.” I didn’t want to ruin the whole night. I picked up an oyster and swallowed it down. The familiar aftertaste seemed to wake me up. “Ah, maybe being alive is like eating a raw, tangy oyster.”
I guess eating makes me feel alive
.

“You better eat more then. I don’t want you to slip back into whatever dark place the oyster dragged you out of,” said Conan, sliding the plate toward me.

As soon as we finished the oysters, the waiter delivered the next course. The thick, savory lobster bisque was served in small handmade bowls on pieces of black granite.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Conan asked.

“The future?”

“Yes. Our future … the two of us living together, spending our lives together.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine that”

“Why?” He frowned and wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

“I’m enjoying being with you, but I can’t think about the future.” I knew the White Queen would dispose of us if we tried to be together. “I can only see us now. Let’s enjoy this moment, shall we?”

“Yes, we’re celebrating your birthday and that’s all we have to think about tonight.” Conan took a drink of wine and his frown disappeared. “I don’t want to pressure you, but I do want our relationship to evolve.”

I picked up my wine glass and took a large sip. Then I plunged my soup spoon into my bisque and finished it without saying a word.

The house lights dimmed and the candles on the tables seemed to burn brighter. The waiter arrived with our main course as soft jazz gently played in the background.

The fresh cod was perfectly poached and delicious. The skin easily peeled away from the smooth, tender flesh under the careful guidance of my fish knife.
If I’d eaten like this when I was homeless, maybe I wouldn’t have gone with the White Queen.

Conan lightened up as he ate and drank more wine. He joked about office politics and his new hires’ mistakes. It was fun bantering with him, and his sharpness and wit lifted my spirits.

The dark chocolate gateau was absolutely delicious, and mine had a single birthday candle. As I blew it out, I wished for something that could never be … a future with Conan.

* * *

As soon as we got to Conan’s apartment, I slipped out of my clothes and took a long shower.

He was working on his laptop when I came out of the bathroom in a red silk nightie. I stood behind him and slowly massaged his shoulders.

“You should come to bed,” I whispered in his ear.

“I will in a moment.” He turned around. “Wow, that’s some nightgown.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it. It accentuates your curves.” One of his hands strayed from the keyboard to my waist and slid over my bottom.

“It’s time for bed.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, turning back around. “I just have a few things to finish up.”

“It’s my birthday and I can’t wait that long.” I turned his chair around. “Let me help you get comfortable.” I undid his silver tie and slid it out from under the collar of his dark-gray shirt, flinging it to the floor.

“Oh my.” Conan stood up.

“Buttons next.” I put my hands behind my back and unbuttoned his shirt with my teeth as I stared up into his eyes. When I was done, I kissed him on the lips and gently eased his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.