The Parking Space (20 page)

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I never asked him and he never talked about it. We never stayed there. We always stayed in mine because it was so much prettier.” I buried my face in my hands. “How could I be so stupid?”

“Okay, okay, calm down, let’s just stop, and think for a moment.” Lisa paced in front of me for a moment. Her haste halted after just a few steps and she clapped her hands together. “The front desk. We can ask them for his villa number.”

“If they didn’t tell Tom mine, they aren’t going to tell me his.”

“Duh. I forgot. Okay, okay . . . oh, what if we called the front desk and asked them to ring his room?”

“That might work.”

Before she could say another word, I dashed off toward my villa. My thoughts teetered back and forth between utter fear that I could have just lost any chance to talk to him ever again.

I fumbled for my key in my pocket, my trembling hand unable to unlock the door.

“Here, let me do that.” Lisa grabbed the key, and within seconds, I bolted through the door, rushing for the phone.

My foot tapped as I waited for the receptionist.

How many times is she going to let it ring?

“This is the front desk,” she finally said.

“Uh, hi, yes, can you please ring Rick Starks’s villa, please?”

“Just one moment, ma’am.”

The elevator music on the other line grated on my last frayed nerve. My heart pounded so hard, the thumps echoed in my ear, nearly drowning out all other sound.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but it appears as though Mr. Stark has checked out of his room.”

My stomach twisted, threatening to wretch.

“Say that again?”

“Mr. Stark checked out of his room.”

“Do you know where he is?” I didn’t know if she could or would answer that question, but I asked anyway.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t have that information.”

“Thank you.” I slammed the phone down and faced Lisa. “He’s gone. He checked out.”

“Checked out? How? When? You just saw him.”

“Yeah, except we spent, what, twenty or thirty minutes running around the resort while we searched for him. That’s plenty of time to check out. He’s supposed to leave today, remember? He was probably already packed when he saw me with Tom.”

“Yeah, but he would have to wait for the boat back to the airport.”

With her words, both of our eyes widened and we pointed at one another.

“The boat dock.”

I darted for the door, not caring if it shut behind me or not. All that mattered was getting to the boat dock before it left with Rick on it.

Seconds turned into minutes as I ran. My legs begged for relief. My lungs begged for air. No matter how much exhaustion plagued me, I wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. I had to reach him. I had to explain to him what he saw. I had to tell him that I chose him, that I really didn’t want him to take the job, and that Tom meant nothing and I didn’t care if I ever saw or spoke to him ever again.

My sandals crunched through the gravel, step after step. The boat’s sail peeked over the fence, lining the edge of the resort property. Just days ago, I had crossed through the gate, arriving at this place that had brought us together. I didn’t know the amazing relationship that waited for me at the time, but now I did, and I would fight until the end to keep it.

As I rushed through the gate, the captain of the boat pulled away from the port.

Rick stood under the canopy along with all of the other departing guests.

“Rick!” I shouted. “Wait! No, Rick, wait!”

I dashed down the dock, nearly tripping on the wooden boards. He turned toward me. He lifted his hand to shade his eyes and sauntered toward the edge of the boat. He just stood there, gazing upon me as though he proved nothing more than a statue carved from stone.

I waved my arms and jumped around on the dock, screaming. “Come back. Please, come back.”

He said nothing. He just stood there, staring at me.

As the boat hit open water, the captain let out the throttle, opening up the vessel into a faster speed until, within seconds, it faded to nothing more than a memory in the waves.

My rump slammed into the dock as Lisa ran through the gate. I drew my legs up to my chest and buried my face in my knees.

“He saw me and he still left.”

“So . . . go . . . after him,” she panted. “It’s not like . . . like you don’t know where he works.”

MY HEART THUMPED as I parked my car in front of the familiar building of the Bayside Veterinary Clinic. Whether or not Rick worked today, I didn’t know. But if I had to come back every day, several times a day, I would.

Between the boat and plane ride back to San Francisco, my anxiety had nearly crippled me. Even if he would refuse to see me, I still had to try. My hands trembled as I grabbed the door to the office and opened it. The same receptionist from nearly two weeks ago greeted me. Her smile held a hint of stress and concern, although she desperately tried to hide it.

“Good morning. What can I help you with today?”

I tiptoed to the desk. Fear churned in my stomach. “I need to speak with Doctor Stark, please.”

“I’m sorry, but Doctor Stark is no longer here.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He’s no longer employed at this clinic.”

My breathing sped up. A lump formed in my throat and my knees threatened to give out underneath my weight. I gripped onto the counter so hard my knuckles turned white.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

“Did . . . Um, do you have a phone number for him?”

“I’m sorry, but since he’s no longer a vet here, I can’t give you that information.”

“I’m not a patient. I mean, my cat isn’t a patient, well, actually you guys treated him, once, but just once for an emergency, remember?” I stuttered through my ramble as the room began to spin. “I’m his . . . I met him while on vacation and I . . . I just really need to speak with him.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

My eyes misted with tears. I closed them and pinched myself to keep the tears from falling down my cheeks.

“As a single woman, I understand.” Her warm hand covered mine and she gave it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t give you any of his information, but I can tell you there aren’t many Starks in the phone book.”

“Thank you. I’ll try that.”

I left the office. My shoulders hunched, deflated with the mess of the last twenty-four hours. I hadn’t slept, hardly able to with the haunting nightmares. What I thought would lead me back to him left me feeling even farther from him.

My cell phone rang and I picked it up without even glancing at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Ah, Helen. I see you’ve finally turned your phone back on.” The casual tone of my boss Michael purred through the ear speaker.

“Yes, I did. I’m sorry for shutting it off . . .”

“No, no, it was quite all right. I’ve been known to shut off mine while on vacation.” He paused and I could hear papers shuffling in the background. “So when do you arrive back in the city?”

“Um,” I glanced around. “I’m actually back. I flew in last night.”

“You’re in town?”

“Yes.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, then since you are home, can you come into the office now?”

“Now?”

“Yes, I have some things I need to go over with you.”

“Oh, um, sure. I’ll . . . I’ll be there in just a bit.”

People strolled down the city streets as I drove to the office. Nothing but walking suits with briefcases, people talked on their cell phones and ignored the pedestrian signals. A world of hustle and bustle, a world of money and greed, a world I’d belonged to for so long, and yet now, it grated on my last nerve.

I stomped into my office—the familiar scene from outside now inside. Phone lines rang one after another while the copy machine spat out sheet after sheet. Agents either dashed from one office to another or sat at their desk with their feet propped up. Their banter all the same, trying to talk such and such client into the perfect house.

And in a few moments, I’d be just like them.

“Oh hey, Helen,” Kyle, one of the other agents, spun in his chair, giving me a salute for a greeting.

“Hey, Kyle.” I glanced from him to Michael’s empty office. “Is Michael around somewhere?”

“He said to tell you that he had to step out for an errand, but he’ll be back in a bit.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I threw my purse behind the filing cabinet in my office and sat in my chair as I wrenched open my bottom desk drawer and yanked out the phone book. I flipped open the book to the names ending in S and scanned through the pages until I found all the listings under Stark. The receptionist was right, only four names were listed, one of them with the first initial of R.

I grabbed the headset of my phone and quickly dialed the number. A cold sweat beaded across my forehead as my heart pounded harder with every ring that went unanswered. Ten, twenty, twenty-five, how much longer would I listen to the sound?

I slammed down the headset, vowing to try again in a few minutes. If I bugged him enough, he’d have to answer.

“Hey, Helen.” Jason knocked on my door. “You’re back early.”

I faked a smile. “Yeah, I decided I needed to come back so I could actually earn a living.”

“I understand that. Kim is always asking for a vacation, but I keep putting it off. If I leave, I might miss out on a couple of commissions.”

He gave a slight chuckle, only his face showed no amusement.

“I brought you all the files for your clients I helped with while you were away,” he continued. “The Hendersons put in a bid on one property and the Olsens put a bid on another. Other than that, most of them either wanted to take a break from searching or they weren’t happy with anything I showed them.”

“Thank you for your help.” I grabbed the files from him and separated the two he just mentioned. “Here, keep these. I’ll tell Michael to give you the commissions when the escrows close.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s only fair.” I handed him the files. “Since you did all the work, you should get the commissions

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Just promise me you’ll take your wife on a vacation.”

“I promise.” His eyes sparkled as he left my office.

I reached for the phone again, letting it ring even more times than before. Not but days ago I had fallen for someone who I thought I could have a future with—a dream now shattered into several pieces I couldn’t glue back together.

And it was all my fault.

I shoved my chair from my desk and stomped over to the filing cabinet. I detested filing more than any other job in the world and with each piece of paper, my anger built.

“Are you actually filing?” Kyle asked as he stood in the doorway of my office. The amusement in his voice toyed with my patience.

“Yes.” I growled.

A smile spread across his face. “Ooohh, let me go get my camera. I’ll be right back.” As he darted from the door, I spun on my heel.

“It’s only been a month,” I shouted.

Several of the other men in the office started laughing. Surely, on any other day, I probably would have laughed with them. Surely, on any other day, they would entertain me with their witty banter.

Ah, just one of the joys of working with only men.

“Helen?”

I spun around again.

“Michael?”

“Can you come to my office please?” He shifted to walk away, but hesitated. “Bring your purse.”

Confusion flushed through my cheeks. “Okay.”

He set his coffee mug on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “How was your vacation?”

“Um, it was okay, I guess.” I sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Before I could set down my purse or get settled, he tossed a magazine on his desk. It slapped against the top.

“Have you seen that?”

My fingers gripped the booklet of papers and slid them toward me. Reece Jones adorned the cover, as well as different article headlines about how to lose weight without dieting, the top ten sex positions for women, and how to tell whether your date likes you.

The jumbled words in different fonts and sizes all splattered across the page, and all took a back seat to the giant headline:
My House Hunt Horror Story
.

“What’s this?”

“An interview with your ex-client Reece Jones.” He took another sip from his coffee. “Seems she had quite a lot to say about you and the policies of this agency.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like reading it?”

“I’ve got ask you, Helen, did you ever purposely take pictures of her to sell to gossip magazines?”

“What? No. I never took a single picture.”

“Did you ever purposely keep a house from her?”

“No. I showed her every home she wanted to see. I know I didn’t take her to a lot that were on the market, but . . . she had an unbelievable wish list. And she got pissed if I took her see one that wasn’t up to her standards.”

“She says that if someone wants to find their dream home they shouldn’t hire you or anyone from the agency.”

“That’s crazy. I did so much for her.”

“And what about her boyfriend?”

“I beg your pardon?”

He picked up the magazine and flipped through its pages. “And I quote
, ‘At one home, I left the guy I was dating at the time alone with Miss Wright, thinking that she’d show him features of the house. Instead, I came back and found her showing him features of herself. Needless to say, their affair didn’t last, but I should warn all the women out there that she has no problem trying to sleep with your men as she’s trying to sell you a house.’
”

“What!” I rose to my feet as I screamed. My purse hit the floor with a thud and fell over, spilling a couple of tubes of lipstick. Heads turned toward me.

Great. How many of them knew about this article?

Contrary to what men like to say, they do in fact enjoy gossip and can pass it around an office faster than a pack of high school cheerleaders at prom.

At least my co-workers could.

“I did nothing of the sort with that lunk-head of a man she brought to her appointments. That is a blatant lie.”

“Luckily, for you that
lunk-head
has already come out against what she wrote. If you were to go on record with the same, I’m sure you could resolve that.”

He closed the magazine and heaved a deep sigh as he opened up his top desk drawer, withdrawing an envelope.

“Unfortunately for you, this has left me no other choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“While I believe you, Helen, my hands are tied. I’ve gotten a barrage of phone calls from all of your clients firing you. The other agents have felt some of the heat, too, with their own clients. I’ve even had a couple of reporters with local news stations calling me.”

“So let me talk to the reporters and set the record straight.”

He shook his head. “I’ve spoken to our lawyers and our only option at redeeming the company’s reputation is to let you go. Here is your last commission check, plus some severance.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry, Helen.” He slid the envelope across his desk. “You were one of my top agents and I really hate to have to do this.”

As my eyes danced in between his and the white paper, I pressed my fingers into my temples, fighting the growing feeling that my stomach itched to wretch its contents on my boss’s desk.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

I held my breath as I collected the envelope and fetched my purse from the floor. “Well, thank you for the opportunity.”

“Good luck, Helen. I really mean that.”

“Thank you.”

I walked out of his office. Every eye in the place turned away from me as though they didn’t want me to feel an embarrassment.

Fired from a job because of someone’s lies, how could I feel anything but?

I shoved the glass door open and headed toward my parked car. As I reached for the handle, my phone rang. I flipped it open.

“Hello?”

“Helen, it’s Lisa. Have you found him?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no. No, I haven’t found him. How can that have any other meaning?” I bit my tongue and hung my head. “I’m sorry, Lisa. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay. I understand. So he wasn’t at the clinic?”

“No. He quit. I think he took that job, but I don’t know.”

“Oh my goodness. I . . . I don’t even know what to say to that. Have you asked Logan?”

“He hasn’t been at the apartment so I haven’t been able to talk to him. I found Rick’s phone number, but he hasn’t answered any of my calls.” I slid into the driver’s seat. “Hey, Lisa, can I talk to you later? I just got in my car.”

“Oh, are you going to a client appointment?”

Hesitation brewed in my thoughts. Telling Lisa that Michael had just fired me would open up a conversation that emotionally I couldn’t manage at the moment, even if not telling her felt like some sort of betrayal.

“Something like that.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry to bother you. My curiosity has been running wild ever since you left. We’ll be home in the morning. I’ll talk to you then, okay?”