Tempo (22 page)

Nicely said, I think to myself.

“Recently you were connected to a designer named Karlie McKenna. As a self proclaimed bachelor isn’t this a break from your norm? What is the status of your relationship?”

I look at Michael waiting anxiously for him to answer the question. He stares straight at the reporter and replies.

“I am not in a relationship with Ms. McKenna. We had a few moments together. We did not have a relationship. The word relationship indicates feelings for one another and I’m afraid that wasn’t the case. She doesn’t really fit in with the Tempo of my life. I am still happily a bachelor and don’t see that changing anytime in the future. Next question?”

My knees buckle. My body is shaking. Did I hear him correctly? Did he just nullify our “relationship” in a public forum? I am looking at him, trying to send him a mental message to look toward me. I need to see his eyes. When our eyes finally connect, I can see that his are empty. The tears clouding my vision make it nearly impossible to see as I turn to run. I can hear the popping of the camera shutters as they capture my sorrow. Escaping into the street, I flee from the undeniable truth. Michael didn’t love me; he used me.

Sobbing uncontrollably I enter the Four Seasons and race for my room. I throw myself on my bed as I release all of the tears I have never spilled. I cry for the loss of my parents. I cry for the loss of my innocence. I cry for my lack of good judgment. Mostly, I cry because I feel bereft and empty without Michael.

Looking frantically around my room, I realize that I can’t stay here. I need to call Anna to see if she can replace me. Feeling like I may be able to contain my grief for a short conversation. I dial Anna’s number.

“Karlie, it’s a good thing that you called. The printer has magically completed the lithographs. I have sent them to the framer. They should be ready by December tenth. Will that work for you?”

“Yes, that will be great,” I say in an unsteady voice.

“Are you all right? You don’t sound all right.”

In an instant, the tears begin to flow again.

“He broke up with me.” I hiccup into the phone.

“He what? Just days ago you were here and looking so in love.”

“I know. I just can’t figure it out. I knew something was wrong last night, but he was so tired and I didn’t want to press him. Anna, he made love to me in the most incredible and caring fashion. I didn’t have a clue about what was coming.”

“What was the last thing he said to you?”

“Last night as I was falling asleep, he told me to never forget how much he loved me. Who says that before they tear your heart out?”

“How did he break up with you?”

“In a press conference.”

“Oh my God Karlie. He just doesn’t seem like that type of man. Something is not right here.”

“What’s not right is that I continue to trust despicable men. Is there any way you can replace me with another designer?”

There is an uncomfortable silence, and then Anna delivers the awful news.

“I hate to tell you this, but when the contracts were signed the only clause that was added was one requiring that you be present during the entire project. Failure to do that would void the contract and all work completed becomes the property of Mr. Scarpetti. I wish I could replace you, but I can’t without losing the firm in the process.”

I didn’t think that I could ever be more shocked than I was this morning, but hearing Anna tell me that I will have to remain in Las Vegas undoes me. Silent tears stream down my face.

“I need you to complete the project and come home. You don’t have to talk to him; I can be the intermediary. There are roughly six weeks left until completion. Can you do that?” She asks.

I sit in silence, thinking about her request. It will be a massive undertaking given my emotional state.

“Yes Anna, I can do that. Hopefully I can finish the project early and head home. Thanks for talking to me.”

“Karlie, call me anytime to talk okay? Will you be okay? Can I do anything?”

“Nope, I will handle it.” Stunned, I hang up the phone.

Sitting on my bed I am utterly confounded as to how I got to this place. What message am I not getting that requires me to repeat this painful part of my life over and over. My inner voice tells me,
something is not right; he’s not that kind of man
, but I am done listening to her.
That’s the problem, you listen, but you never really hear me.
Her last statement rattles me. Grabbing my head in my hands, I scream to drown out her voice. Finally silenced, I simmer and boil over my unjust dismissal. The longer I sit, the angrier I get. How dare he do that to me in front of the press. I deserved better than that. I dial his number, but I immediately get his voicemail. My voice is filled with rage. “How dare you do that to me. All you had to do was tell me and I would have walked away quietly. You’re a coward not to face me one on one. My first impression of you was the accurate one. You are underhanded and sneaky and dishonest. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.” Hanging up I collapse on my bed and cry myself to sleep.

The light from the open curtains wakes me. The clock on the nightstand glows in the shadow of the morning. It’s six o’clock. I drag my tired body to the bathroom. The mirror reflects exactly how I feel. I am sad and lonely and hurt. The dark circles and puffy eyes are a reminder of the time I have wasted on a man not worthy of me. 

Today is a new day. Pulling on my jeans and a camisole, I don my flats and head out the door to work. As I leave my room I am reminded that the man I loathe is staying in the room next to me. That won’t work at all.

“Hi Eve, is there another room I can be transferred to? I know I just moved into my current room
, but Mr. Scarpetti and I have had a falling out of sorts and I don’t really want to be in a room that’s connected to his.”

“There is no reason for you to move Ms. McKenna. Mr. Scarpetti checked out of that room yesterday morning.”

I don’t know why her statement hits me so hard, but her words were like a dagger to my heart. I should be happy that he is not here to distract me, but the realization that he is actually gone hollows me out.

“Perfect, thanks Eve.” I try to sound pleased with the news.

The sun hits my face as I step onto the strip to make the short walk to Tempo. My phone vibrates in my pocket with the arrival of a new text. The message is from my new driver. I forgot about him. Texting back, I tell him that his services will no longer be needed. Moments later my phone vibrates again. Thinking the message is from the driver, I pull my phone from my pocket again. What I see infuriates me.

Don’t be stupid Karlie, take the car!

Responding to his text, I write.

The stupid girl died yesterday from none other than stupidity. I am no longer your concern.  K

My phone is tucked back into my pocket to be ignored for the remainder of the day. It seems odd not having Tony hanging about. Now that Michael has dumped me, I am old news and the once perceived risks are gone.

Things are really moving forward on the hotel. All the flooring is in. The next several days will be dedicated to accent painting and lighting installation. I am absolutely in love with the dark wood floors in the suites. Housekeeping will hate them because they will show the dust more quickly
, but they are a stunning contrast to the walls and tile. As I walk out of the room I am stopped dead by Michaels presence. He is having a conversation with one of the contractors at the end of the hallway. I feel his eyes follow me. My first instinct is to run, but I refuse to let him have that kind of power over me. I look directly at him and what I see in his eyes shocks me. He still loves me. He looks away quickly, making me question what I saw in his eyes. I escape via the stairway. Behind the closed door I try to calm my quickly beating heart. Anna was right; something is off. Taking the stairs I head down one flight. This is Michaels floor. Turning the handle, it doesn’t budge. Obviously he doesn’t want me invading his space. He has completely locked me out of his life.

The next week settles into a routine. I walk to work, do my job, walk home, nibble on my food, watch TV and repeat. One day blends into the next. I haven’t seen Michael since that day in the hallway. Anna calls me daily to check on the progress
, but in reality I know she is checking on me. Her latest news informs me that the pictures will take longer to frame than anticipated. I can expect them around December twenty-second. Before we hang up, she surprises me with an invite.

“Come home for Thanksgiving, we can get you on a flight tomorrow. You can have dinner with me.”

“Thanks Anna, but I have reservations at this great restaurant. I met some really nice people at the hotel and we are going to dine together.” I didn’t want to lie to her, but I didn’t want to worry her either. My actual holiday plans include the Macy’s day parade and a room service burger; turkey burger if I’m lucky.

Walking home I reflect on my freedom to move around unencumbered by Michaels security team. It’s been nice, but I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that I was being followed. I continue to look for Tony and Lloyd
, but I never see them. I often wonder where Michael is staying and if he is alone. What will he be doing for the holiday? As soon as that thought enters my mind. I hear his voice as if he was whispering in my ear.
“I picked up your ticket for Thanksgiving today. I am going to put it on your desk. Don’t forget it’s there.”

The ticket; I forgot about the ticket. I hurry back to my room to see if it’s still there. I find the envelope under a pile of papers. It’s a simple travel agent folder. Looking at it, I feel my heart skip a beat. My fingers trace the edges of the folder as if somehow touching it will bring me closer to Michael. We were supposed to spend the holiday at his house on Diamond Mountain. I wonder if he will still be there. Opening the folder I see the ticket; my flight would have left tomorrow morning at nine. Looking at the seat assignment makes me smile; it’s none other than 3B. Closing the folder the ticket shifts unveiling a hand written note. Pulling the note free I read the message.

You promised. 100 Diamond Mountain Way.

I did promise and I never break my promises. I throw a few things into my carry-on and prepare for my morning flight. One way or another I am going to get answers.

The flight to San Francisco was short, leaving me little time to consider my actions. The rental car was slightly more difficult. Who would have thought that every rental car would be held in reserve? Thankfully, after two hours of waiting, someone called to cancel his or her reservation. Plugging the address into the GPS of the Chevy Cruise, I put the car into gear and I am on my way. I have no idea what I am heading into, but deep down inside I know this is the right decision for me. I am tortured each of the seventy-four miles it takes to get there. The closer I get the more anxious I feel. Several questions enter my head as I travel up the gravel driveway. What will he do when I show up? What if he’s not alone? I obviously didn’t consider all of the possibilities. My panic is rising and just before I cave into my cowardice, I see him standing in the middle of the driveway. He is staring at me. I throw the car in park and step out. We both remain silent as we take in the situation. Suddenly he takes a tentative step forward. This is not the confident man I know. He is scared. His voice is trembling.

“I wasn’t sure you would come. I p
rayed you would,” he says.

“I promised.”

“That you did Ms. McKenna.”

Somehow while we greeted one another the space between us diminished. I am not sure who moved toward whom, but Michael is standing directly in front of me. He looks handsome in his jeans and t-shirt and he smells of citrus and fresh air. I have to remind myself not to be taken in by him so easily. He leans forward to kiss me
, but I turn my head so his lips only touch my cheek. It would be so easy to fall back into the same routine. That same connection still exists. I can feel the charge of it running through my body, but I won’t give in to it.

“Shall we go in?” Michael asks.

I nod my head and I follow him into the cabin. Inside a fire is blazing in the fireplace. I step in front of the fireplace to warm myself. I am chilled to my bones by either the situation or the damp outside air.

“Can I get you some coffee?”

“No Michael, I came here for answers.”

“What took you so long to get here, I didn’t think you were coming.”

Looking at him in disbelief, I answer. “The fact that you expected me to come, makes me the stupidest girl in the world.”

“I had hoped that you would remember the ticket. I prayed you would remember your promise. I owe you answers and I intend to give them to you.”

“Where’s the bathroom?” I blurt out.

“Down the hall, it’s the second door on the right.”

I nearly run for the safety of the bathroom. Behind the closed door, I lean over the sink and splash cold water on my face. What the hell was I thinking? I can’t do this. I have to leave. My feet take the thirty or so steps to the living room. On the table Michael has placed a tray of cheese and crackers and a club soda with lime.