Mikalo's Flame (11 page)

“A woman, a girl, really, called last night,”
she continued. “Angelica Faust. Wannabe actress, sometimes lingerie
model, husband-stealing whore.”

Oh shit.

“This is why he’s dumping the house in
Malibu,” she said, turning to me, her arms still hugging her, her
hands tightly gripping her elbows. “This is why he’s spending our
money, our money, thank you very much, on some modernist pile of
crap on fucking Bellagio in Bel-Air.

“This is why he’s ...”

She stopped, her chin trembling.

Turning, she looked out the window at the
city below, her shoulders rising as she fought for breath, fought
to regain control.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

I remained near the door, though. I should go
to her. Place my hands on her shoulders. Wrap myself around her and
hold her as she wept.

I should console her with warm, wise words.
Assure her these dark clouds will pass and there’ll be a beautiful,
bright sun again. And soon.

I should do what a friend does.

But knowing Deni, I knew she’d recognize the
happy talk bullshit for what it was: happy talk bullshit. And that
what I was doing, right here, right now, was exactly what she
needed. Let her find herself, collect her bearings, regain control,
and just be here, quietly listening, not judging.

Just be her friend. Her best friend.

“The little cunt called me,” she said, her
back to me still. “Twice. Just to let me know that she didn’t want
any ‘negative energy’ between us. And she hoped we could handle
this with ‘respect and love and happy emotions and good chi’.”

She faced me again, the color rising on her
cheeks.

Good. This is the Deni I knew and loved and
was waiting for.

“Can you believe that little bitch?” she
asked. “ ‘Good chi’?”

She snorted with laughter.

“Silly, stupid little granola eater,” she
said. “Of course, she really hopes we can all get together for the
holidays someday. And that maybe she and I can be friends. Best
friends. Like ‘mother and daughter’, she said.”

“And this is Jacob’s girlfriend,” I said.

“Try bride-to-be,” Deni answered.

“What?”

“Oh yeah. She’s convinced him they’re soul
mates, they’re energy is attuned, and she can’t live a day without
him as her husband.

“She can’t live a day without his money is
more like it.

“Oh, and get this,” she then said as she left
the window to sit in my chair behind the desk. “She’s absolutely
convinced I’ll be able to make a success of myself and, really,
I’ll be so much happier if I work hard to ‘make it on my own’. Or
some bullshit like that.”

“In other words,” I said, sitting opposite
her in the guest chair. “She’s asking you to not have any claim to
what you and Jacob built.”

“Miss Angelica Faust is under the delusion
that the money Jacob now has is going to be the money Jacob will
still have once I’ve taken him to the cleaners.

“She is looking forward to discovering the
‘beauty of Park Avenue’, though.”

I laughed.

“As if he’s going to walk away with that
apartment,” I then said.

“And beneath all this,” she said, leaning
forward to put her elbows on the desk. “Beneath all this talk of
money and houses and what she’s expecting to get or not get or
whatever, beneath all that is a broken heart. My broken heart.

“I mean, sure he and I didn’t have a marriage
like everyone else. No children, because he simply didn’t want
them. Or at least he didn’t with me. No romance or sex or anything
like that for years and years and years.

“But when he separated himself from me, moved
across the country and buried himself in work, well, I just had to
get on with my life. What was I supposed to do, Ronan? Wait around?
Follow him like a puppy dog? Give up what I wanted to do so I could
play Beverly Hills hostess?”

“Of course not.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” she asked. “What
if I was wrong? What if I should have made more of an effort? What
if I should have traded Park Avenue for Bellagio in Bel-Air? Played
Beverly Hills hostess instead of, I don’t know, doing whatever in
the hell it is I’ve been doing for the past twenty years?”

“He made it clear,” I quickly said. “He
wanted you to do what you wanted to do and he would do what he was
going to do and it didn’t mean that you didn’t love each other. And
you did. And you do.

“Maybe this is just a mid-life crisis?” I
then asked.

She shook her blonde curls.

“No, it’s done. It’s serious. It’s over.”

She leaned back.

For a moment I felt guilty about my own
happiness. Felt guilty about the love Mikalo and I had made last
night. Felt guilty for the kisses he showered me with when I left
this morning as my hand snuck beneath the sheets to give him a
playful squeeze.

Right on cue, Deni spoke.

“And don’t you dare feel guilty for what you
have, okay? You’ve waited a long time for this and, god knows,
you’ve earned it.

“So, enjoy it. Please.”

I nodded.

“That young man you were with,” I then said.
“In the park. Is he someone special?”

A small smile spread across her lips.

“Yes, maybe,” she then said quietly.

“You know,” she continued. “Jacob and I
always had this agreement, if you will, about dalliances and
extra-curricular activities. Very forward of us, perhaps, and
certainly not for everyone.

“But with our separate lives, it just made
sense.

“And after all this time, Lucas is my first
dalliance. My first extra-curricular activity.

“But he’s more than that,” she then said,
correcting herself. “He’s ... I don’t know.”

She sat back again.

“Younger than you,” I said.

“Oh yes,” she agreed. “With the energy to
match.”

And then she laughed.

She put her hands to her face, the palms
moving over her forehead and then smoothing back her hair.

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know,
Ronan. I just don’t know.”

“Talk to me,” I said.

“What am I losing with Jacob? I mean, really?
What am I losing? A dream of something that never was. That’s what
I’m losing. A part I was playing with a man I used to love, used to
respect. That’s what I’m losing.

“Not much, is it?”

I shook my head.

“No, not really,” I then said. “Could you
have that with this Lucas?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Who knows?”

She swiveled the chair to face the window,
her eyes on the late-afternoon sun as it started to dip below the
horizon.

“I used to wonder if any of us could ever
have anything like that,” she said. “Wondered if it was even
possible.

“And then Mikalo happened. For you. And I saw
what he did, how he changed your life, changed you.

“And I thought ‘maybe, just maybe’ it could
happen for me. If I let it.

“Now Jacob is leaving me for a woman young
enough to be a youngest daughter and there’s this new man in my
life who really seems to like me and, god knows, loves being with
me, if you know what I mean.”

I nodded.

“And here I am, just sitting here in the
middle of the wreckage, torn between what I thought was and what
maybe perhaps could be, and I really ...”

She turned to me again.

“I’m scared, Ronan. When the shit hits the
fan and I hit the streets showing my brave face, showing how
fucking strong I am, just know, my friend, that I’m dying
inside.

“This is killing me.”

And, once again, she stood, her arms wrapped
around herself as she walked to the window, looking out over the
city as the sun prepared to set.

Mikalo and I sat at the table, our plates
clear, our glasses empty, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Deni and Jacob were still having their
dinner, I realized. Or maybe they weren’t. I wasn’t sure.

But somewhere in this great city of ours, her
poor heart was being ripped to shreds by a callous soon-to-be
ex-husband and a positively pre-pubescent bitch.

My heart hurt for her.

Let’s face it. I didn’t like change and,
right now, my life was nothing but.

Part of me was seriously craving continuity
and sanity. Something predictable.

I glanced up at Mikalo.

His eyes were on the table, his brows low,
that little dip in his forehead indicating he was deep in
thought.

“A bird of worry is around your head,” I
gently teased, using a phrase he often used when he knew I had
something on my mind.

He looked up and smiled.

“There is much to consider, my Grace.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

He paused, waiting, considering the idea.

“Today I was told that the Byzans, perhaps
only Mara, I think, they have made a decision to buy my father’s
first business. The store. The first thing he made that made all
the other things we enjoyed in our lives.

“They want to buy the business, buy the
store, and then ...”

He stopped.

“And then,” he then said. “The first
building, the first place the store was at. The place I first
remember as a child before it all was changed. Made bigger. Bigger
house. Bigger car. Bigger.”

He looked down at the table again.

“My room in that small apartment above the
first store, it was so small. Too hot in summer, too cold in
winter, Silvestro and I in the bed, trying to keep warm.

“We were close then, my family. My brother
and I. Before the rooms grew big and life grew lonely.

“Before that time, they are good thoughts.
Good thoughts. Good memories.

“And this is what the Byzans now want to take
from me,” he then said looking up, his eyes now on me.

I had no idea. No one had told me this was
something the Byzans wanted or were planning or had even considered
planning. And it certainly would screw everything up with all the
tax planning I had done.

If I was in this for the money and the
billable hours, the Byzans would be a gift that just kept on
giving.

But I wasn’t. And, to me, the Byzans were
becoming like one of those pre-menstrual migraine headaches I
deeply dreaded and could frankly do without.

First thing tomorrow would be a meeting with
Blazen to find out what in the hell was going on.

“And worse --” he then said.

“Wait,” I interrupted. “It gets worse?”

He nodded.

“Silvestro, he very much likes the idea of
selling that store. Of selling our father and our mother. The
memory of them.”

He sighed, his eyes once again down.

Then he leaned forward and, like a child, put
his head on his arm, his face into the table.

“Nothing can be done without your approval,
Mikalo,” I reminded him. “Turn to your family, the others who are
standing behind you, and fight it.

“It’s not over.”

Raising his head, he offered me a weak
smile.

“Maybe it is time to lay down the sword and
let them die,” he whispered. “Perhaps the time is now for a new
life.”

I breathed deep, not sure what to say.

This was his fight and if he wanted to stop,
he had my support, of course.

But if he was just tired and depressed, this
latest left hook from the Byzans and Silvestro knocking him harder
than usual, making a decision like that now could be easily
regretted. And quick.

“Whatever you want, Mikalo,” I finally said.
“I’ll support you. Always.”

He straightened up and stretched his arms
above his head.

“Maybe the day is long and my body, my mind,
they are tired.

“It is early, I know, but I am going to put
my head on the pillow for a moment.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ll take care of these
dishes and be up to snuggle next to you.”

Standing near me now, he bent and kissed me
on the forehead.

“Ah, that I would like.”

He turned to go.

“And I think, perhaps, it is time for me to
buy my own home here. In New York. My own place. That is something
we can talk about as well.”

“What the hell, Bill?”

He sighed and took another sip of his
coffee.

We were in his office. It was nine in the
morning.

And I was majorly pissed off.

So was he.

“I’m telling you, Ronan, I don’t know where
this is coming from,” he said for the millionth time. “I haven’t
even heard about this since you ambushed me in the coffee shop,
followed me into the elevator, and screamed at me as we walked down
the hall.”

“Are you sure?” I asked again.

He looked at me with one of those Oh Please,
Give Me a Fucking Break looks.

Okay, so he didn’t know anything about
it.

“Oh,” I suddenly said.

“What?”

“Abby and Mara had their heads together at
dinner the other night. As I left, I remember looking back and
seeing them.”

“You finally got an invite, huh?”

“Nope,” I said. “Crashed it. Abby and Marcus
weren’t happy, but Richardson was happy to see me and Mr. Byzan, to
be honest with you, seems like a pretty nice guy.”

“And Mara?”

“All over Mikalo, drunk, angry, spiteful,
desperate, and pathetic.”

“Ah,” he said. “And Mikalo rejected her
--”

“Politely but firmly --”

“She figured out you and he were --”

“Abby told her.”

“Bitch,” he said. “And here we sit with her
going after the one thing Mikalo treasures above anything else,
other than you, of course.”

“Oh no, I think he loves this more than
me.”

“You think?”

“I know,” I said.

“He gave up his life in Greece for you,
Ronan. Put his ambitions, his parents’ business, all of that at
risk just so he could be with you.