Authors: Dara Girard
“No, yes,” he said, quickly backing away. “I mean…I just thought—”
“Don’t think. Just get out of my way.” She pushed past him and stormed out of the office into the hallway. Tears of anger blurred her vision. She’d come early, barely able to contain her excitement at getting the chance to work for such a prestigious magazine. She’d even written down a list of questions. She took that list out now and tore it into little pieces. She hated him. She never wanted to see him again. She didn’t care how gifted or brilliant he was or what opportunity he could give her. She would never work with someone who could be so rude.
As she rode the elevator to the ground floor, tears continued to gather in her eyes hot and stinging, but she didn’t let them fall. Ian Cooper would not have her weeping like a dejected lover. He meant nothing to her. She wished Jeremiah was still alive. He cherished her and understood her. He had never treated her this way. He had always loved seeing her, no matter what time of the day it was. He especially loved it when she would “surprise” him and turn up early to be with him.
For a moment she felt foolish. Why had she bothered to come in the first place? He probably thought she was one of his father’s women, and wanted to show her up. She wished she had never come. This was only the second time in her life that someone had ignored her in this manner. The first had been her now brother-in-law Alex.
Following the death of both of her parents, she and her three sisters had found themselves nearly bankrupt, and had to sell their family home. Luckily, a former friend of the family, Alex Carlton, who was now extremely rich, bought the house. Thanks to her quick thinking Mariella and her sisters had devised a plan to get him to marry one of them, allowing them to keep the house and not face financial ruin. While she hadn’t displayed any open attraction to Alex, nor did she particularly have any feelings toward him, she had been his first, but not final choice.
It hadn’t really bothered her, but for a brief period, one hour to be exact, she felt some of the same emotions she was now feeling, of being “passed over.” She had never shared this with any of her sisters. When you’re beautiful people rarely treat you as though you have feelings that can be hurt. So she pretended that she didn’t have any. Ian Cooper had made her look foolish. She thought of the care she had taken to look good for the interview. It was all a waste. He hadn’t even noticed her.
Mariella did not bother to sign out at the front desk; she did not want to spend another minute in the building. She stalked outside, into the bright day and glanced around for a taxi and was ready to signal one when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and saw that it was her sister Isabella who lived in upstate New York. Mariella considered ignoring it because she didn’t feel like talking, then decided that at least she would be able to share with someone how horrible Ian Cooper was. She moved to the side of the building, shading herself from the glare of the sun.
“Hello, Izzy,” she said. She searched her bag for her sunglasses and put them on.
“Hi, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Her sister’s voice was instantly comforting and her kind words made the dam break and tears fell behind the shade of her sunglasses as her anger spilled forth. She told her sister how awful Ian had been and how furious she was. Mariella was totally unaware of people looking at her. And for the first time, she didn’t care and didn’t try to put on a face.
Once Mariella stopped talking, her sister simply said, “Of course you’re going back.”
Initially Mariella couldn’t speak. “Go back?” she repeated. “I’ll never go back. He treated me terribly, Izzy.” She rested a hand on her chest. “Me.”
“I know,” Isabella said in her usual gentle way. “But I’ve never known you to leave without a fight. Besides, this may be the break you’ve been looking for. His being rude to you isn’t the worst thing in the world. It’s happened to you before.”
It might not seem to be a big thing to Izzy, but it was to her. Ian Cooper had ignored her. No, he had humiliated her. Getting attention was what she did. It was who she was. His actions had embarrassed her and she despised how ordinary and unimportant he had made her feel.
“What would Jeremiah say?” Isabella said.
“I don’t care. He’s not Jeremiah.”
“How about Dad?”
Mariella looked at a passing cyclist.
“Mariella?”
“I’m still here.”
“Just think. Are you sure it was that bad?”
Mariella gasped, outraged. “Do you think I’m making this up?”
“No, it’s just sometimes…” Her words died away.
“Sometimes what?”
“You tend to overdramatize things.”
Mariella stamped her foot, catching the attention of passing pedestrians. “I do not!”
“It’s just that there may have been a reason for his behavior.”
“There is a reason. He’s a barbarian. I can’t believe you’re defending him. I’m hanging up.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going to think about this rationally.”
Mariella rested a hand on her hip. “Fine.”
“I’ve never known you to run from a challenge, much less letting someone ignore you without letting them know how you feel. Mariella, you’ve never run from something you want.”
“I’m not running,” she said, insulted.
“Then why aren’t you in his office? Go back and find out what he wants. If you leave, he wins.”
She couldn’t allow that. Izzy was right. He wouldn’t force her to flee. She never fled a challenge. She quickly said goodbye to her sister, returned her mobile to her leather bag then marched back inside. In the elevator, she touched up her makeup, added more color to her lips, and adjusted any stray hair that had been misplaced by the wind.
“He’s still in his office,” Nelson said, jumping up from behind his desk when she entered the room.
“I know.” Mariella sat. She would see him if she had to wait all day. She intended to meet with him, dog his steps, stalk him if she had to. He wouldn’t get the chance to ignore her again.
Tense energy swept the office as Mariella waited. Time seemed to tick by slowly. Mariella didn’t move. She didn’t fidget or itch or tap her foot. She sat like a statue. At last, after an agonizing five minutes, the clock struck eleven. At exactly that moment the door opened and Ian stepped out. Everyone sent furtive glances at the pair, fearing something catastrophic was about to happen.
Ian looked at her and smiled. “Ms. Duvall, so glad you could make it.” He held out his hand. When she didn’t move to shake it, he reached down and seized hers. “Thank you for being so prompt.” He pulled her to her feet in an effortless tug. “Please come in.” He gently but effectively pushed her through the door then closed it behind him. He pulled out a chair and motioned to her to take a seat. She remained standing. Ian walked to his desk and sat.
Mariella studied him trying to use a dispassionate eye, but failing. No one could look at Ian Cooper dispassionately. His very nature made that impossible. He hadn’t changed from the man she had seen the day before. Why would he? What had she expected? Why did it matter? Somehow from reading his biography online and looking at the pictures he’d captured, she’d expected him to be somehow different. She’d expected to see something gentle behind the arrogant features and devilish eyes. But that wasn’t so.
She could see his eyes now and they completed her image of him, like a photograph being developed in a darkroom. He had a classically handsome face with compelling dark brown eyes, like a Benin sculpture. A very attractive man that would have Adonis weep with envy. She hated him even more. She tried to see him in three different ways. One as the talented photojournalist with a trained eye. Yes, now she could see his eyes as dark and compelling as his photographs. Then she tried to see him as a businessman running a successful magazine, which explained the arrogance that seemed to float around him. Lastly, she tried to see him just as a man, but she couldn’t put that image together. He was an enigma. The photojournalist and businessman she could capture, but the
man
proved elusive.
Mariella stood in the middle of the room determined to put him in his place. “I am furious.”
“Why?”
“First, I will not be manhandled.”
“Manhandled?” he said, confused.
“You forced me in here.”
“Did I? I thought you wanted to see me.”
“I did.”
“I usually meet my visitors in my office.”
“Yes, but I will come into a room when I want to and—”
“So you have,” he said.
“You’re not making sense.” Mariella could feel her temper beginning to rise again. He was toying with her.
“Of course I am. You’re the one who’s not. You say you want to see me in my office and here you are yet you’re furious.”
“I’m furious that you ignored me.”
“But I just said ‘Hello’ to you.”
“You said hello to me now, but not before.”
“Before what?”
“Before
now
. I was here nearly an hour ago and you didn’t even look at me.”
“Impossible. How could I have seen you when you weren’t here an hour ago?”
Mariella stomped her foot. “But I was here.”
“No, you couldn’t have been.”
“I said I was.” Mariella took a deep steadying breath, taking hold of her temper. She knew he was playing a game and she meant to win it.
“Ms. Duvall, there’s no need to shout.”
She raised her voice even more. “I will shout at someone who appears to be clearly hard of hearing. I was here nearly an hour ago.”
“But you weren’t here,” he calmly replied. “What would you be doing here an hour ago?” Ian rested back in his chair waiting for her next response.
She leaned on his desk. “Waiting to see you.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to see you then.”
“But I didn’t have an appointment with you until now. Don’t confuse yourself, Ms. Duvall. I’m sure you wouldn’t have come an hour early for an appointment when you have better things to occupy your time. I know you are a considerate woman so you wouldn’t have so arrogantly assumed that I would have seen you earlier than the time agreed. Your schedule must be so full that you’re confusing me with someone else.” He smoothly changed the subject before she could reply. “Mother, this is Mariella Duvall. Ms. Duvall, my mother.”
Mariella started. She hadn’t even noticed that there was anybody else in the room, much less a well-dressed attractive older woman, a toy Chihuahua and a large black Labrador.
“A pleasure,” Shirley said, offering a tentative smile.
Mariella didn’t return the expression. “I offer you my condolences. It seems that your son is unfortunately in the early stages of dementia.”
Shirley blinked, casting a wary glance at Ian.
Ian merely smiled. “Considerate and she has a wonderful sense of humor.”
Shirley’s gaze darted between the two. She didn’t know how to reply.
Mariella stared at him, the level of her contempt evident in her voice. “You’re—”
Ian interrupted her. “Let’s get down to business. Please take a seat.”
Mariella folded her arms. “I prefer to stand.”
Ian stood. “Of course. Forgive me. I forgot to take into account your delicate sensibilities. That chair won’t do.” Ian came from behind his desk and pulled up another chair then pushed it into the back of Mariella’s legs, forcing her to sit. “There, that’s better.” He glanced at his mother who looked as though she wanted to leave but knew of no way to exit. She shifted her body, looking out the window while stroking Candy, who lay fast asleep on her lap.
Mariella glared up at him and started to rise.
He rested a hand on her shoulder that felt like a vise and kept her in place, but his tone remained courteous. “No, don’t get up. If you need something just tell me and I’ll get it for you.”
When she opened her mouth to reply, he turned and went back to his desk. “Good. Now that we’re both comfortable, I have a question for you. You’ve taken pictures of celebrities and even had
Look Out
magazine approach you. Why did you turn them down?”
Mariella stared at him. How did he know this?
Ian clasped his hands together behind his head. “Take your time. I have all day. I wouldn’t want to rush you. We all can’t be quick thinkers.”
I’ll get you for that one.
“I like to work for myself,” she replied calmly. All feelings of irritation, carefully tucked away.
“It would have been nice on your résumé.”
“I already have enough impressive qualifications on my résumé.”
Ian let his hands fall and leaned forward on his desk. “Not impressive enough, but I admit you have an eye.” He sat back. “Let me tell you why I asked you to come. We are looking for a photographer to complete the second part of my father’s last project. It is a photo layout displaying East Coast seasons in a creative way. He had completed the photographs of the West Coast last year and planned to do the East Coast this year. He completed summer and spring. It was my father’s expressed wish that you complete fall and winter for him. He was impressed with your work. It will be an exclusive contract for six months to include a full spread in the magazine and a gallery showing.”
It was too much. “You must be mistaken. I’m not good enough yet.”
“He obviously thought you were.”
“But what do you think?” She immediately regretted the question. She didn’t care what he thought.
He flashed a cool smile. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what he stated in his will. I agreed to follow his wishes.”
“But you—”
“The reasons why I agree are immaterial. We both know that a project of this magnitude, with the publicity you’ll gain from our magazine, will launch your career.”
“And I’ll be working with you?”
“
For
me. Yes. So what do you think?” He shook his head. “Never mind. I already know.”
She looked at him, incredulous. “You know what I think?”
“Yes.”
She blinked. “You don’t even know me.”
“You knew my father. That tells me all I need to know.”