The Underground (20 page)

“I… love you too,” she said, feeling the words slip unnaturally across her tongue as she stared at her fiancée.

“Let’s wait before announcing anything, okay?” she said. This was not part of her planned proposal, but it had come out and felt right.

“Okay,” he said, looking a little unsure. “Is there a reason?”

“Lorraine and I are negotiating some company issues and I want to make sure that everything is ironed out with her before facing the media frenzy that our engagement will undoubtedly bring.”

“Sure, my love. Anything you want. We have our whole lives to be together,” he said, taking her hand.

As they made love that night, Shayla recoiled inside as Michael tenderly stroked her breasts, before reaching his lips to her nipple, flicking his tongue quickly on the tip before nibbling it softly. She tried, unsuccessfully, to give herself wholly to Michael, not realizing just how much she still longed for Nathaniel. But suddenly, she didn’t want Michael, even as she allowed him to move within her, slowly at first, and then with a steadily increasing rhythm, his breath matching every movement until he finally pulsated forcefully inside of her.

“I love you, Shayla,” he said again, as his grinding movements finally slowed.

“I love you, too,” she parroted, immediately wishing she could take back those words as well as the entire evening. She couldn’t have Nathaniel, but that didn’t mean that choosing another man, even one with the perfect checklist of credentials for marriage, fixed the longing in her heart.

——–

“You can’t tell anyone,” Shayla said, sitting on the pink couch of her childhood suite, where she and Gerald met. She had asked him to meet with her privately.

“Of course,” Gerald said, reassuringly. “So what’s this news?” Shayla knew she could trust him, more than anyone else.

“I proposed to Michael,” she said, softly.

“That’s wonderful!” he said, but immediately looked at her curiously. “You don’t look happy,” he said.

“He’s a wonderful man,” Shayla said, knowing it was true.

“Then why is your engagement a secret?”

She hesitated. She wanted to tell him the real reason, but couldn’t quite admit it out loud.
 
“I’m negotiating employment terms for the steel workers and having trouble. I want that ironed out first. Plus, I’m not ready for the paparazzi. News of my engagement will have them all over us,” she said.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” he asked. Shayla remembered how well he knew her.

“I just want to wait a little,” she said. She really wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Of course,” he said, nodding and she knew he wouldn’t question her further. That was one of the things she loved about Gerald. He respected her answers without digging, unlike her mother.

“I especially don’t want my mother to know,” she said.

“Understood,” he said pausing. “You know, Shayla, your father wrote you a letter to be opened upon your engagement,” Gerald said. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of something new from her father. He had been gone for so long. Why was Gerald the keeper of the letter, rather than her mother? It made her think of the last time she saw her father. He had said, “This is just for you. Never, ever show it to your mother or tell her you have it. Promise?” her father asked, as his frail hand held out the black velvet bag. He had been sick for so long, he was skin and bones.

“I’m afraid,” she said, as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked at his offering, but didn’t reach for it.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he assured her. “It’s just private, that’s all.”

She took the bag and was about to open it when the machine that her father was hooked up to beeped and his sickly body coughed violently. In a whirlwind, she was swooped out of there, but she clutched that velvet bag as she saw her father alive for the last time. She ran to her suite with the bag hid it in the bottom of her toy bin.

Chapter 26

Memories of Shayla washed away with each passing day, and Brigg and Chester started fading too. Reality sank in. Nathaniel would never see anyone from his life in Cambridge again. It was far more challenging now that it was up to him to keep the distance.

He had diligently worked on his new life but was tired of attending the POAs. He had gone on countless dates, and cooked gourmet meals for women who were only after sex. What he really needed was a wife, not another random date from a woman at the POA. Nathaniel needed a break. He picked up a slice of pizza and popped open a beer as he relaxed on his futon bed, with a brand new novel by Berrini that made him think of Shayla. Had she already read it?

The phone rang and he sprang from the couch.

“Joe Merino?”

“This is he,” Nathaniel said, bracing himself. Fear pulsed through his veins.

“This is Kelly Boys,” said an unfamiliar voice. It was Saturday night, and he couldn’t imagine why they needed to contact him. Garrett was gone. Nathaniel wondered if they knew. Maybe they just realized he wasn’t returning or maybe they were going through Garrett’s files and Joe Merino was listed as an Underground affiliate. Nathaniel’s heart pumped with fear. Maybe there were Tasers right outside his door, ready to storm in.

“Sorry for the short notice, but your Monday assignment has changed.”
 

“Oh, that’s fine,” he said, relieved. Couldn’t they have just sent him an email? Then again, Garrett usually called with assignment changes. Nathaniel was about to ask about Garrett, but stopped himself. What was he going to say? “What happened after he got Tased and taken away at the protest?” That could be self-incriminating, as they might want to ask how he knew that Garrett was part of the demonstration.

“We’re sending you to Washington D.C. for the next week to work as an executive meeting scribe. Your flight is on SuperAir, and it leaves Monday at 6 a.m. Someone will meet you at the airport in D.C and help you out on that end. If you have any questions, feel free to call us.”

“Okay,” Nathaniel said, feeling out of sorts all over again. He hung up and let it sink in. He would have to cancel two dates, but wasn’t sure he minded missing either.

More importantly, his Underground contact at Kelly Boys was gone and nobody else stepped in. What did that mean?

Then there were logistics. Nathaniel had never been on a plane. The Underground had all kinds of courses, but there wasn’t anything that covered how to squash the anxiety of your first airplane flight.
 

——–

After waiting more than a half an hour for takeoff, he was far more nervous than he cared to admit.

“Another Maker’s Mark, please?” he asked the steward.

“You sure? Kind of early for so many drinks, don’t you think?”
 

“It’s my first flight,” he whispered, thinking about the life he used to have. There was never a reason to fly anywhere. Winter vacations in New England were just a drive to a ski area and summers meant hiking in Maine or a beach trip to Cape Cod.
 

“I’ll get you one more, but I don’t want to have to carry you out of here,” the steward said, half joking.

He thought of Janice. “You know what? Maybe I don’t need another,” Nathaniel said. He would rather white knuckle it all the way than be a drunk.

“You sure?”

“Yes, thank you,” he said, just as the pilot announced to prepare for takeoff.

The flight went smoothly, but he was glad when he landed. Right outside the gate, he saw a man holding a sign with his name.
 

“I’m Joe,” he told the man.

“Do you have luggage?”

“Right here,” he said, indicating his carry-on.

“Let’s go,” the driver said dryly before silently leading Nathaniel to the car. Nathaniel tried to ask a little about the capital, but the grunt-like responses told him this grumpy taxi driver only drove. Just like Simon, he thought to himself.

“Are we going to my hotel?” he finally asked.

“I’m dropping you at Archibald Company,” the driver said.

As they drove through the city, Nathaniel drank in the sights, which differed from both Cambridge and Kansas City. It was a clean city. Watching people walk the streets, he noticed a more formal dress, a far cry from Kansas City and even farther from Cambridge.

It was a short drive from the airport to Archibald, which was in a bustling business district of the city. The driver got out of the car, took Nathaniel’s luggage from the trunk, and deposited it on the sidewalk. Nathaniel pulled out his wallet.

“It’s paid,” the driver said without looking at Nathaniel. He returned to the car and drove off.

Nathaniel was about to enter Archibald’s building when a jackhammer sound caught his ear, like a familiar tune on the radio. He stopped and turned. A group of Public Works personnel were going in and out of a manhole in the middle of the street. He remembered wearing their uniform: protective eye and ear-wear, and the ever-present hard hat. He didn’t miss that kind of work, and yet, a piece of him wanted to walk over to see what they were doing.
 

He stepped inside, and took the elevator to Archibald’s floor. The grandiose reception area had intricately inlaid marble floors and a large floral arrangement on the clean glass counter out front. The three men behind it were all occupied, speaking politely on phones. The first who was free approached Nathaniel.

“I’m Joe Merino from Kelly Boys. I was told you would know where I should be,” he said. He was glad to be holding luggage, which hid the shaking of his nervous hands. This was the first time he would work solely as a scribe.

“Follow me,” one of the men said.

As he followed the man down the hall, Nathaniel imagined himself bragging to the women at the next POA. Being a scribe had caché.

“Here you go,” said the man who had led him through the maze of hallways filled with glass offices and conference rooms where the “skirts” appeared to be hard at work.

“I’m Dan, by the way. Can I get you something? Coffee? Water? Something to eat?” It was strange to be on the receiving end of the work he was accustomed to doing.

“I’d love a cup of coffee, if it’s not too much trouble,” Nathaniel said. “Actually, I can get it myself if you’ll just point me to the coffee station.” Surely, Dan had plenty to do. Nathaniel knew this from firsthand experience.

“Don’t be silly.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind getting it,”
 
Nathaniel said, feeling awkward no matter what he did.

“Cream and sugar?”
 

“Yes to both,” Nathaniel said.

He put his suitcase in the corner and admired the large room. He counted 18 chairs around the conference room table before sitting down. It all seemed too pretty to disturb. The black lacquered table shined beautifully without a single fingerprint on its glossy veneer. He carefully unpacked his laptop and pad of paper before sitting down.

“Here you go,” Dan said, handing Nathaniel a mug wafting with fresh-brewed coffee.

“Thank you very much,” Nathaniel said. “Do you know what I’m supposed to do now?” Nathaniel asked.

“I’m sorry. I don’t. But I know the management group has signed this room out all week, and I’m sure they’ll be in within the next 15 minutes or so,” he said, looking at his watch. “I’d just sit tight. Give a holler if you need anything though,” Dan reiterated, smiling as he left.

Nathaniel drank his coffee and felt guilty for this plum assignment as he looked at the original art on the walls. Sometimes he just didn’t understand art, and now he grappled to find the beauty in the odd and probably expensive collage of ripped and broken canvases dipped in oil paints.
 

All at once, a group of women came through the door chattering and laughing casually as they planted themselves around the table and continued their conversation as if Nathaniel were invisible.

“Hi, I’m Gladys,” one of them finally said as she held out her hand. “You must be the Kelly Boy.” Nathaniel stood up and put out his hand. She was petite, and she looked him squarely in the eyes as her strong handshake surprised him. She wore a flattering, business appropriate red suit.

“It’s nice to meet you Gladys. Yes, I’m Joe Merino from Kelly Boys,” he continued. “Do you know when I’m supposed to start taking notes?” he asked.

“We’re still waiting for a few others, but they should be here soon, and then we can get started,” she said, sitting beside him. Her perfume reminded him of Shayla’s with that same hint of honey vanilla. It was distracting.

“Don’t be nervous, I’ll take care of you,” she joked sensing his concern.

Was she flirting?

A few minutes later, all seats were filled.

“Okay, ladies,” Gladys said. “Let’s get down to business. We’ve got a lot to cover this week. Here’s the agenda.” She handed out sheets of paper. “We are fortunate to have our boy Joe from Kelly Boys here to take notes, so best behavior, please,” she said. “No off color jokes in front of him, even though he’s adorable,” Gladys said, triggering light laughter around the table.

He tapped their names as attendees into his laptop on a chart so he could easily document their ideas. A number of them were very beautiful. In fact, this was about the best stock of women in one room that he could imagine: bright, successful and attractive.
 
Maybe he would get a date. First things first, he had to do a great job.