Speak Now (24 page)

As the server walked away, Todd and Cara said simultaneously, “Jonathan.”

“He is a class act. If I manage to be half the man he is…”

Cara nodded. “This world would be a perfect place if more men were half the man he is, but just being half the man you seem to be would make it a much better one.”

“So, if I called and asked you out to dinner, a movie, a concert…” Todd watched her closely for some kind of indication of where things stood between her and Jonathan. “Would you even be free to accept an invitation like that?”

“Technically, I suppose I would. Emotionally, however…”

“He’s a lucky guy.”

She grinned. “Thank you. If he ever becomes my arch enemy, I’ll know it’s just me.”

“If he is ever stupid enough to get himself in that spot, I want to be the first to know. Meanwhile, I don’t suppose you have an identical twin, cousin, best friend?” As much of a joke as it was, there was a hint of honest longing in his voice.

“I’m pretty sure my family would fall apart if they discovered more of me out there somewhere. They can barely handle the me they have, but thanks.”

~*~*~*~

As Cara climbed into her car, she turned on her cellphone again and saw a text message from Jonathan. CALL ME WHEN YOU ARE DONE. EVEN IF IT IS LATE

Cara’s finger hovered over his name on her contact list. Late. He’d said even if it was late. She punched the button, and he answered on first ring. “Jonathan, are you insane? It has to be midnight there.”

“I was curious if you liked the dessert. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Who would have thought peaches and almond would be so good? I like how they didn’t pulverize the fruit. Those super thin slices… oh, man. I have to learn how to make that.”

“Did Derek make it?”

His attempt at nonchalance failed, bringing a smile to her face. “No, and yes, I had a lovely time. We spent the entire evening talking about you, as a matter of fact.”

“How did you like my little protégé?”

Cara laughed. “Mr. Mennonite himself? I thought I’d heard everything, but an ad agent as a former non-electrical Mennonite… what next?”

“And did he ask you out again?”

Jonathan’s insight amazed her at times. “No, but he would have if I hadn’t made it clear that I wouldn’t accept. How did you know?”

“After you hung up, I realized that he was paying for the meal out of his own pocket. Delta has a list of approved restaurants for this kind of thing. Ascot isn’t one of them. If he took you guys there, he paid for it himself.”

“But he invited Derek too.”

“And Derek has shown himself too busy to deal with this stuff thus far. It was a calculated risk, but a smart one.”

She jerked the wheel to avoid a large dead animal in the road. “Whoa. Almost hit that thing.” Lights flashed behind her. “I think I’d better go. I’m being pulled over.”

“Stay on the line. I’ll wait until you’re done. I don’t like women being pulled over at this time of night
—especially when they’re alone.”

A female officer knocked on the window. Blushing, Cara punched the button and waited for it to roll down. “Sorry, officer, I’m still a bit shaken.”

“You okay? Did your car hit it?”

“No, I missed—barely, but I missed.”

Cara offered her license, but the officer waved her on. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t hit it and were on your way off the loop. People do that and then end up surprised when they get stranded with a broken axle or something.”

As the officer walked back to her car, Cara laughed at Jonathan. “Yep. Scary officers at night.”

“I’d still feel better if I knew you’d wait to pull over in a more public area. The section between Rockland and Westbury is dead this time of night.”

“Not on a Friday night!”

Forced to concede her point, Jonathan asked about the rest of her evening. “So did you talk more about your plans for the department, or what?”

“Nope. But, I did hear some of your office gossip. Apparently, the local office thinks you’re moving back to Rockland sometime in the next five years.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Were you,” she said as calmly as she could muster, “planning on sharing any of that with me?”

“In the next four to six months, I should know when that’ll be. I thought I’d wait until I knew something. Otherwise, all I can tell you is, ‘the plan is for me to move back sometime in the next five to ten years.’ Not exactly helpful information.”

“I admire what you’re doing, Jonathan. So do your employees.”

“The Atlanta office isn’t quite as supportive but then they feel more upstaged. They’ll be happy when I go back ‘up north where I belong.’”

That sounded odd to her. Rockland wasn’t exactly New England. When he returned, he’d be the CEO of the entire company. Surely, they’d object more to that than simply a Chief Communications Executive… whatever they did. “So, why are they okay with you being CEO but not CCE? What does a CCE do a
gain?”

“Basically, I’m the agency’s ad agent. I sell us to various markets and help top management know how and what to say.”

“How will that help you as CEO?” Cara didn’t really care what he did or how he did it, but she suddenly felt very tired and wanted him to talk her home.

“I’m not hanging up until you’re safe in your house, so we can talk about scrapbooks or Pilates or anything else you’d like.”

Again, his insight astounded her. “How’d you know?”

“You yawned twice in a sentence of seven words. I’m not an idiot.”

“Answer the question anyway.”

“Basically, it has taught me to be a diplomat. I started as an office temp in high school, worked up to ad assistant in college, and by the time I graduated, I was a junior ad agent.”

“What ads did you do that I might know?”

“Storyland.”

“You’re never too old.” She sighed. “That was yours? I used to tell my mom that it was such a brilliant campaign because that’s exactly what kids my age always said. ‘I’m too old for that place.’ We stopped saying that after those commercials.”

“The funny thing is, that wasn’t supposed to be the big line. The big line was supposed to be ‘no age limit on fun’, but the
girl who did the shoot wasn’t the brightest cracker in the barrel. She kept saying, ‘there’s no fun in age limits’. We tried and tried until finally I said, ‘It’s the other way around. You’re just saying that you’re never too old to have fun.’ She looked at me like I was crazy and said, ‘Well, why don’t I just say that then?’”

“Well, the concept was great. None of us remembered the rides and themes that were more adult. We remembered Goldilocks, Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretel’s cottage… We’d all forgotten Rumplestilskin’s spinning wheel or any of the more exciting ones. After those ads, we went all the time.”

“They’d kept the same fairy land type commercials going on for years but ignored a vital demographic…kids with time and money and no need for mom and dad to follow them around. I was so excited to show my favorite rides and places.” The pride and excitement of his first big hit still radiated even after so many years.

“I’m home.”

“You’re not in your house. I still hear your car running.”

As she walked up the steps to her townhome, a movement in the shadows caught her attention. “Who is there?”

Jonathan barked, “What are you talking about?”

“I saw someone—someone near my door.”

“Run to your car, Cara!”

Before she could turn, someone grabbed her and ripped her purse from her shoulder, spinning her in place. She stared into the face of a stranger—shocked. “What—” His hand reached out, jerked the key pendant from her neck, grabbed her phone, turned, and ran.

Jonathan heard her scream, cry, and
then nothing. He shouted for her for a minute before the phone went dead. Probably smashed. Immediately, he dialed his local police and told them what he’d heard. “She said she saw someone and then she screamed. About a minute later, the line went dead. I debated calling the Rockland police, but I thought they’d listen to you more than me.”

The moment he got off the phone, he called Cara’s house. The line
buzzed—busy. Relief slammed into him. It probably meant she’d made it inside the house—at least he hoped she had. Why else would the phone be busy at that time of night? Again, he dialed his local police and told them that he thought she was okay. “Sorry for bothering you, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

The next time he called, Cara answered quickly. “Jonathan, I’ve got police here
, and I can’t talk. He stole your key! I’ll call you tomorrow.”

The phone mocked him for several minutes as he stared at it. Being nearly a thousand miles from her wouldn’t work. He paced his office, sent a few emails, and prayed for hours. Prayed until the sunrise colored the morning sky a perfect flamingo pink. She hadn’t called. He knew she’d said tomorrow
and knew she’d probably meant later in the morning at the earliest, but he’d hoped…

~*~*~*~

“I want it delivered to her house immediately. Insure it. Thank you.” He disconnected the call, sat the phone in the charger, and hung his head in his hands. Several minutes ticked past before he reached for his mouse and clicked open his insurance company’s website.

With a heavy sigh, he clicked on the claim link and followed the procedure for filing a claim. He’d only filed one claim and had intended never to do it again, but here he sat, filling in information as though he did it every day. Cara would feel terrible about the loss. He needed to be able to tell her it was taken care of when she called.

Noon came and crawled by on the back of a garden snail. He tried to keep his children occupied and his mind off the call he still hadn’t received, but Jonathan felt lost. Verna offered to stay home, but he knew how she looked forward to her weekends with her children and grandchildren. He couldn’t take advantage of her good nature, no matter how strong the temptation.

By two o’clock, he realized that Cara would need a new phone. By four, he wondered if she’d been more injured than she’d led him to believe; and by six, he began searching the web for Russell and Diane Laas. He hesitated over the number for several minutes before he dialed her home phone instead. An answering machine picked up almost immediately.

“I know you said you’d call, and I know I’m being a pest, but I can’t help feeling helpless and concerned. Can I do anything? Order you a new phone? Have it delivered to your house? Have an alarm system installed? Butt out and get off the line so you can call me? Yeah. I’ll start with that one. I’m praying for you. Bye.”

Habit took over, and before he realized the futility of his actions, he typed a quick text message as well. CARA MIA. I WISH I WA
S THERE. JONATHAN

The moment he hit send, he felt like a fool. She’d never get the message. Or would she?
His messages would likely be saved until retrieved. He wasn’t sure. Of course, everything would be fine by the time she retrieved it. Then again, he wanted to be there regardless… His trains of thought collided, creating a gory nightmare of emotional carnage.

~*~*~*~

The night dragged as slowly as the pages in the virtual mug book that Cara spent the next several hours perusing. It had been fascinating to give a description and watch the computer remove anyone who couldn’t fit the description. According to officer Tiller, they could even narrow the suspect down to just those with known tattoos if she’d seen one. However, regardless of her well-lit porch, an African-American male, five feet six to five feet ten didn’t give much description. Not seeing the man’s hair made it difficult to narrow the choices as closely as they’d hoped.

“I’m
about to crash, Office Tiller. I think you should scroll back ten pages and save it for me for later. I need sleep.” She reached into her purse for her phone and sighed. “What time is it?”

“It’s nearly four.” The officer looked dead on his feet.

“I’m going home. I’ll come back tomorrow—later today. Whatever.”

As she left the station, a woman stumbled into her. Cara held the door open and assisted her to the counter, calling for an officer. “There’s an injured woman out here!”

A female officer rushed to aid the woman. Cara started to linger and then shook her head. It was none of her business and a desperate need for sleep demanded she go home. At an incredibly slow pace, she drove through the deserted streets of Westbury, parked in her accustomed spot, stepped from her vehicle, and froze. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t climb those steps and walk up to that door again. Not in the dark and not tonight—this morning.

Cara hesitated. She knew her thoughts were ridiculous, but fear won out, and she jumped back in her car, backed out of her parking space, and drove toward her parents’ house. Her phone wouldn’t wake her there.

Russell Laas woke two hours later for an early tee time and found a note from Cara on the refrigerator.

Mom and Dad,

I’m asleep in my old room. I’ll explain later. Please don’t wake me up unless you have to. If Jonathan calls, tell him I’ll call him back.