He glanced over his shoulder at the giant, elaborate model, complete with a dozen or so action figures. “You can have mine now, if you want it. Though I think most of the swords are missing.”
“Aw. You don’t leave me with any of the fun.” She laughed.
Press didn’t want to be talking about toys, especially not with Amara. “Listen.” He stalled, not really knowing what he wanted to say but knowing he had to say something.
She walked closer. “I’m listening.”
That didn’t make it easier. “You want to sit down?”
“Not really.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Press?”
He looked up.
“I couldn’t just let you leave without saying goodbye in person,” she said. “A text wouldn’t do.”
“You’re right. Thanks for coming.” He swallowed. “There’s not a lot of time, but what I wanted to say is this.” He looked her straight in the eye. “You’re still in school, and I’m halfway around the world. But would you…what I mean to say is…I won’t forget you, and I hope you don’t forget me.”
“Of course I won’t forget you.” Amara wrapped her arms around Press’s shoulders and gave him a hug like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He tried not to read anything into the gesture beyond friendship—but that was a big ask.
She pulled away and returned his stare. “Don’t you get it? You and I are joined at the hip. You’ll always be a part of me.”
“But what about Matt?”
“What about Matt?”
Press opened his mouth, but then he shook his head. “Nothing. Just remember, if ever you need help—whatever—I’m there for you. No matter how far I’m away.”
She nodded. “Same here.”
And they stood like that for an awkward moment or two until Press said, “I better get going, then. My flight…”
“Yeah, I know. Can I help you carry anything?” She looked at his bags on the bed.
“Nah, I can manage. Besides, they’re ri-donc-ulously heavy.” He tried not to think about the bed. The bed and Amara. He smiled at her tightly.
“Press?” she asked.
He raised his head and looked at her through half-slit eyes.
“I’ll always remember you here—today—in your room. And I’m not talking about your pirate ship, either.” She stepped close to him. “Why don’t you lower that chin of yours, Press Lodge, so I can give you a real goodbye—the kind
you’ll
remember?”
He did.
And she kissed him. Memorably.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
TWO WEEKS LATER ON A Thursday morning, Vic finally made it into the office around ten o’clock.
And found Joe seated at his desk.
Vic looked down at Roxie, who was holding her leash in her mouth. “Attack,” he ordered.
Roxie glanced over at Joe, back at Vic, then silently headed for her bed in the corner of the room. She circled the pillow twice and settled in silently.
Vic gave her a dirty look. Ever since that Saturday of Reunions, the dog had been in a funk. “Excuse me,” Vic had said to her when she’d rejected her food one morning. “I’m not the one who told her to go away.”
“Nobody pays attention to me,” Vic mumbled now under his breath, and placed his briefcase atop his own desk. He eyed Joe. “Take over the company while you’re at it,” he said with annoyance.
“Hey, someone has to run the place while you spend your days moping.” Joe tapped his pen—
actually, my pen,
Vic thought. “While you’ve been wallowing in your grief at losing the love of your life—”
“I never said that.”
“Oh, please, it’s written all over your face.” Joe didn’t seem intimidated at all. “Now, as I was saying, while you’ve been going around like a hang dog, barely able to drag your sorry self into the office, I’ve been working my butt off. If it’s of any interest to you, your not-so-little brother here has been working the phones, meeting people, wining and dining—”
“You always did know how to run up an expense account.” Vic shrugged off his blue blazer and turned to hang it on the coat rack.
“All for a good cause this time, if you please. But ever conscious of your cost-saving measures, I ordered domestic champagne instead of French to celebrate.”
Vic turned back. “Celebrate?”
“Yes, celebrate securing the construction account for the new Pilgrim Investments building in Melbourne, Australia.”
Vic stood with his mouth open.
“You may thank me now.” Joe sprung up from Vic’s chair very pleased with himself. Then he patted the seat. “Here, you better sit down. You look like you need to.”
Vic circled the desk warily and sat slowly. Then he looked up. “Does Pop know?”
“I called him earlier this morning. He’s even coming in to join the festivities.”
“He’s coming in?” Vic set his mouth in a hard line. “There’s something you should know about Dad…and the office. He and Abby have been…ah…”
Joe made a face. “You think I don’t know? That’s been going on for years. Everybody knows.”
“Are you telling me that I was the only one who didn’t know about it?”
“I’m pretty sure Tommy’s still in the dark. Listen, that’s their problem to sort out, not ours.”
“No, you don’t get it. I’m sure they probably expect me to fix things now—with Mom.”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t,” Joe came back. “They’re adults. It’s their responsibility, not yours.” He waited for Vic to reply.
Vic didn’t.
“Okay?” Joe prompted him again.
Vic shook his head reluctantly. “Okay.” Then he clapped his hands together. Roxie startled, saw it was only Vic and went back to sleeping.
“So, do you want to have dinner together, then? Celebrate in high style? Break the expense account?” Vic asked, trying to get in the party mood. He was delighted to get the news, but his spirits weren’t particularly riding high.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Mimi walking out of his life had been as gut-wrenching as losing his twin brother. No, that wasn’t true. He’d lost Tom as a kid. His memories, his emotions were borne out of that time. The wounds he was currently licking were fresh. They made him worry if he was ever going to find happiness, if love would be as elusive as the woman who got away.
“Sorry, Vic. I can’t. I’m busy tonight,” Joe announced.
Vic frowned. “I can only imagine.” The problem was he could.
“No, it’s not what you think. I’m taking Basia and Tommy to New York.”
Vic was confused. “New York? In the middle of the week?”
“It’s kind of a secret. Well, it is a secret. Basia has an audition at Juilliard late this afternoon. And while she’s busy, I’m going to take Tommy to the Museum of Natural History to see the dinosaurs. Then afterward, we’ll go out to dinner.”
“Basia has an audition? She never told me.”
“Yeah, like I said. She wanted to keep it a secret. Not put any extra pressure on herself, I guess.”
“But why did she ask you?” Vic felt hurt.
Joe held up his hands. “Probably because she realized I was the only member of the family nobody would think to question.”
Vic nodded. “You’re probably right. But still, I should be there for her.”
Joe came over and rested his hands on the other side of Vic’s desk. “You’ve been there for Basia her whole life. Hell, you’ve been here for all of us your whole life. Why don’t you let someone else pick up the slack for a change?” He cocked his head. “And as far as Basia is concerned? Don’t you get it—she couldn’t tell you because she’s going to be there
for
you—and herself, of course.” Joe stood up.
Vic regarded him with narrowed eyes. “Who made you so wise all of a sudden?”
Joe put his hands together and bowed. “Oh, great
sensei,
I have learned from the master.”
Vic picked up an eraser and threw it at him. It flew wide by a couple of inches.
Joe retreated and turned to see where it landed. “You’re losing your touch.”
Roxie got up from her bed to investigate the possibility of the projectile being food. She sniffed the pink rubbery square and appeared to shrug her shoulders before settling back on her bed.
Vic shook his head. “It landed exactly where I meant it to land.”
Joe rubbed the side of his nose. “And, there’s something else I need to say to you.” His voice was serious.
Vic raised his eyebrows.
“About my…ah…performance at the Un-Parade during Reunions? I was plastered and pissed about the Pilgrim deal. But that’s still no excuse. I shouldn’t have acted that way—to you, to Mimi, her family.”
“No, that’s true.” Vic thought a moment. “But if nothing else, it got things out in the open. It wouldn’t have been my style, but…” He offered a conciliatory smile.
“That’s for sure. And look at the results,” Joe pointed out. “You’re miserable.”
“I’ll live,” Vic said philosophically.
“There’s living and then there’s living.” Joe pulled a legal-size envelope out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He stepped closer and threw it on Vic’s desk.
Vic picked it up. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Vic did. He took out a printout from a travel company. “Tickets to Australia?”
“Two tickets to Australia, business class,” Joe corrected.
Vic rested them on the desk blotter. “I don’t get it?”
“What’s not to get? I’m giving you the opportunity to propose to Mimi. From the pathetic look on your ugly face these past few weeks, it’s plain as day that you love the woman.”
“That’s…ah…very generous, Joe, but the woman dumped me.”
“And the CEO of our company is going to let that stand in his way? The man who took some of the toughest hits in pro football as well as dishing them out?”
Vic winced. “Let’s not mention that, okay?”
“All right. But the man who built up this mom-and-pop business into a stone powerhouse, the man who was able to knock
me
to the ground—
he’s
going to just take a little thing like rejection as final?”
Vic mulled over Joe’s words. “I must be out of it if you’re starting to sound reasonable.”
Joe reached over and picked up the desk phone. “Call her. And just remember, Australia is the land of Argyle diamonds. I’m sure you could keep Mimi busy choosing exactly what she wants.”
Vic stared at the phone. “I just can’t call a woman who doesn’t want to see me and tell her I have two tickets to Australia.”
Joe slammed the receiver back in its cradle. “Then start with something smaller. Work your way up. What about flowers? A dozen long-stemmed roses? Two dozen? You know—a grand gesture? Ladies love that.”
Vic shook his head. “No, not this lady, I’m pretty sure.” He paused to think. He rotated his desk chair to study Roxie. The dog was curled so tightly you’d think she was in Anchorage in the middle of winter. She looked pathetic. Almost as pathetic as he felt.
Vic swiveled back to Joe. “I’ve got a better idea. One she won’t be able to refuse.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
SHE WATCHED VIC STAND UP when he saw her approaching across the Allie Hammy plaza.
“You took a taxi,” he said in amazement. As usual, he wore khaki pants and a blue blazer.
Why wasn’t she surprised?
Mimi stopped three feet away and crossed her arms. “I wasn’t about to go traipsing around town in this get-up.” She looked down at the ridiculous Beefeater’s jacket. “Thank God, I no longer have the stupid hat.” Then she raised her head and eyed Vic.
He shook his head. “No, I don’t mean that. I mean, you took a taxi—got in a car.” He pointed in the direction of the departing cab.
Mimi glanced over her shoulder then back again. “Oh, that. I do a lot of things now. Which isn’t to say I didn’t sweat like a pig during the ride. But luckily the material on this jacket is so thick you can’t tell.” She screwed up her face and waited.
He tilted his head and stared at her.
Dammit.
He looked so cute. “Well?” she prompted. “Your message said, ‘Be there or be square.’ Not to mention the fine print about when, where and what I was supposed to wear.”
He plunged his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants. “Yeah, it was a dare.”
“Hello? What kind of a person in this day and age offers a dare like ‘Be there or be square’?” She paused, her mouth open. “Oh, yeah, I forgot who I was dealing with. And that part about Roxie needing me? That was a really low blow.”
“I know. I couldn’t help myself. But it’s true. She won’t eat. She doesn’t sleep,” Vic explained, concern lacing his voice.