In a Heartbeat (13 page)

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Authors: Donna Richards

BOOK: In a Heartbeat
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“What’s wrong with lunch? We’re two business people going out for a business lunch. Surely, Falstaff can’t object to that.”

A brief flare of indignation fired through her. “I wasn’t even thinking about Falstaff.”

“Good. Then there’s no reason not to join me.” He nodded his head toward the passenger side of his car. “Come on. It’s your last day here.

Let me take you out to lunch.”

She glanced back at her Civic. Maybe lunch wouldn’t be so bad, she thought. With everything else, she hadn’t broached the subject of selling additional services, the one condition Falstaff had placed between herself and a promotion. “Can you wait while I grab my coat?”

Hank nodded and she dashed back to the conference room.

Reappearing moments later, she crossed in front of Hank’s car and slipped into the front seat. She was so careful to keep plenty of distance between them that it was a wonder she didn’t smash her right side black and blue when she closed the car door.

“I won’t bite, you know,” he said after a quick glance in her direction.

“Mind telling me what that disagreement was about?”

“Tom was just giving me his opinion of what I should or should not be doing in regard to my audit tests,” Angie answered. “He seems to think we’re asking too many questions.”

“Well, maybe you are. Had you considered that? Maybe if you stepped back and considered the whole picture, certain elements would fall into place. If you think of the concept of…”

She didn’t pay attention to the rest of the lecture. At least that’s what it felt like. Hank could easily have been one of her doctors reciting www.samhainpublishing.com 95

Donna Richards

complex medical procedures or her brother reading a litany of things she shouldn’t, couldn’t do. Indignation welled up from her gut until the tips of her ears burned. She shifted in the front seat, pretending to look out the passenger window. If he thought so little of her interpersonal skills, she would never be able to sell him on the idea of additional services.

She saw her promotion slipping away like the rapidly passing landscape.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Did she ever really have a chance?

“Did you tell Tom that today would be your last day of field work?”

“I guess that’s not soon enough for some people.” She sunk deeper into the confines of her coat. “You included.”

“Me? What did I do?”

Angie looked at him, then sighed. It was her own fault. She had allowed herself to imagine that just because she felt so right nestled in his arms last Saturday, he might have changed his views on her professionalism. But was it professional to pout this way? Probably not.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve been on edge. I just assumed…”

“Assumed what?” he asked.

“I seem to be causing problems between you and your girlfriend. And you haven’t been overjoyed with my work, and—”

“Wait a minute. What do you mean I haven’t been overjoyed with your work? Why would you say something like that?” She saw his scowl when he glanced in the rear view mirror. Heck, she couldn’t even grovel without getting him upset.

“You’ve criticized everything I’ve done since day one. You’ve doubted my word. You’ve questioned my ability. I’ve been both a professional and personal nuisance.”

She tilted her head over her opened handbag, hoping her hair would shield her face from his view. There, she had said it. Although how the words had escaped past the constriction of her throat, she had no idea.

She searched in vain for a tissue in her purse, pill bottles rattling from one side to the other. No luck. Instead she pressed her forehead against 96

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the side window, hoping the cool glass might calm the burning in her cheeks.

She squeezed her eyes shut to stem threatening tears, but one leaked out the corner and down her cheek. Once established, the wet track encouraged more. She discreetly tried to blot them away with the cuff of her coat, but that’s when she noticed the crowded parking lot of Timothy’s. As if it wasn’t enough that she was crying in front of this arrogant, controlling
man
, now her humiliation would be on show for everyone inside the popular lunch spot.

She tried to sniff back the rapidly descending nasal drip, but her sniff emerged as a loud snort, followed by a barrage of tears.

The traffic light changed and the car moved forward, past the entrance to the restaurant. He didn’t say anything and she didn’t ask.

She closed her eyes and fought to bring her emotions under control.
It’s
the pills
, she tried to tell herself. Sometimes the combinations and massive quantities played havoc with her emotional stability, but she suspected that she couldn’t blame this debacle entirely on medication.

Eventually, the tears subsided and she felt more in control. A tap on her knee brought her face away from the window. Hank held out a precisely folded, pristine handkerchief.

She tried to smile in response but a few more tears escaped, ruining the effect. She swabbed her cheeks, blotted her eyes, then emptied her nose in the soft cotton that smelled so much like him; fresh, crisp and manly.

“Angie,” he said, his tone as gentle as the cloth in her hand. “Your work has been fine. I’m the one who’s been the problem.”

He waited a few moments, probably expecting her to disagree, but she didn’t. She couldn’t trust her voice just yet.

“It’s important that I succeed in this job for reasons I can’t go into right now,” he said. “The timing of your interim audit work provided a means for me to learn about the operations of the company in a way that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise. But your goals in performing compliance testing are different from mine. If I’ve seemed overly critical, www.samhainpublishing.com 97

Donna Richards

it wasn’t because of your work. It was because I needed to accomplish something else. I was frustrated. In hindsight, it was probably unfair to watch over your shoulder the way I did.”

She faced forward and squeezed his handkerchief into a tight little ball. He looked over at her expectantly, but she didn’t respond. She could control either her words or her tears, but not both. So she stayed silent and squeezed the cloth tighter. After an uncomfortable period of quiet, she heard him sigh.

“You know, Angie, I don’t know anyone in this town. What I could really use is a friend.”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t think Falstaff— “

“Don’t tell me we can’t even be friends. Surely, they don’t want us to be enemies, do they?” She shook her head from side to side. “Okay then.

Friends.” This time his audible sigh had a dramatic quality. “I feel better all ready.”

She couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. “I suppose it’s all right. The partners play golf with clients and some invite them to parties and such.”

“Do you play golf?” She heard such eagerness in his voice, she hated to disappoint him, again.

“No. Golf was one of those activities my mother forbid. I’m not sure which was considered worse, the fresh air or the exercise.” He seemed surprised.

“I thought exercise would be a good thing.”

“It is, as long as it’s not too strenuous, which when you think about it, isn’t exercise at all.” He laughed at the irony which in turn lifted some of her embarrassment. She relaxed a bit. “I guess we can be friends, as long as we’re not too close.”

“Not too close,” he agreed with a nod. His eyes never left the road. “So listen, as one friend to another, do you have any idea where we are?”

Her jaw dropped several inches before she focused on the herd of cows grazing in the pasture to her right. Hayden was situated on the urban border between industrial Columbus and the surrounding rural 98

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community. It didn’t require extensive travel to reach open pastures and dilapidated, picturesque barns, but it still came as a shock. “I remember passing Timothy’s parking lot, but I guess I just didn’t pay attention after that.”

He shrugged. “I just thought you weren’t ready to —”

“You were right. Thanks for giving me some time.” She sniffed, and tears gathered at the corner of her eyes.
Don’t
, she scolded herself. She took a deep breath and pointed to a white steeple rising above the bare trees in the distance. “That’s Granville. It’s a sleepy little college town. We can find someplace to grab a bite over there.”

“See, where would I be without my friends?” he teased.

“Utterly and totally lost,” she answered.

Knowing her eyes were undoubtedly red and swollen from her emotional outburst, she had hoped he would stop someplace where they could eat in the car and she might avoid curious glances. He chose, however, an inviting restaurant, quaint and historic, if the brass plaque beside the entrance was to be believed. She lost her concern about her appearance the moment they stepped inside.

Tables, covered in white linen, were scattered throughout many small connecting rooms and patrons were disbursed accordingly, allowing each a sense of privacy. She and Hank were seated in a sunny room with ancient white plastered walls and gleaming antique furniture. The scent of smoke from a wood-burning fireplace lent a sense of intimacy to the open surroundings. One other couple sat at the opposite end of the room. No one here would recognize her, much less criticize her appearance or judgment. She shed her coat and felt an emotional burden lift from her shoulders as well.

After a quick study of the menu, they ordered. Angie leaned back in a surprisingly comfortable wooden chair and Hank leaned forward, cradling a glass of iced tea.

“What’s it like having someone else’s heart?”

The question surprised her, although she had been asked it many times in the past. But never quite so directly.

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“Someone else’s healthy heart,” she said, stressing the word healthy.

“It’s wonderful, invigorating, stimulating. I can do things I never could do before.”

“Like what?”

“Like get out of bed.” She smiled. “Hold down a job. Go to a restaurant.” There were many more personal things she could add to that list. Things she had confided to a diary but hadn’t had the opportunity to experience with another person.
And probably never will
.

“How long does this one last?”

“A lifetime.” Her pat answer caused him to practically choke on his iced tea. She felt a little remorse at shifting the discomfort of these all too familiar questions. But not much. She waited until he took another sip and was breathing easily again. “Actually, as long as I’m careful about taking my medication, I should be okay for another twenty years.”

“Do you ever wonder about the donor? What kind of person they were, that sort of thing?” he asked in a breathless voice. Apparently he hadn’t recovered as much from his choking incident as she had supposed. She took a long sip of her iced tea and thought about how to answer his question. Their waiter appeared with their lunches, giving her a few extra moments to compose her thoughts.

“I know she was a young woman, although older than I was at the time of the transplant.” She pushed the green pepper garnish off the mound of chicken salad. “That’s really all I know.”

“Don’t they have agencies that can tell you more?”

She shrugged, not wanting to answer. She didn’t want to know more about the donor, although it was difficult to explain to strangers. Every June, when her family celebrated her successful transplant, Angie knew another family somewhere was grieving over a different sort of anniversary. She may not be responsible for that person’s death, but the guilt was the same.

After an awkward silence, Hank said, “It must have been difficult growing up with that kind of condition.”

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“It was quiet,” she replied without pause. “My family was afraid that any kind of excitement, loud noises, or physical exercise, just about anything would throw me into heart failure. My life was tiptoes and whispers.

“School?”

“Home-tutored,” she managed to slip in a few bites between words.

“Less risk of those nasty childhood infections that way.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“I missed so much growing up, birthday parties and Halloween parades, high school dances and football games. I suppose you always want what you can’t have.” She struggled to keep the wistfulness out of her voice. “I wanted so much to be like the other kids, but I had to sit on the sidelines. I always got to hand out the candy, never dress up in the costumes.”

“Can you do those things now?”

She smiled. “Perhaps, but it’s a little different now that I’m all grown up.” His dimple flashed, and she anticipated a comment about her diminutive size. She pointed her fork at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

He threw up his hands in surrender, “What?” But they both laughed at the unsaid joke and worked on their lunches a bit. Hank broke the fork-clicking silence.

“Maybe it’s not too late. You can still experience all those things you missed through your children.”

She placed her fork on her plate, the food had lost its appeal. “I can never have children. The doctors say it would be too risky to put such a physical strain on my heart.” She took a deep breath. “And then, of course, all those medications I take would cross over to the fetus.” It hurt. She knew all the logic, but it still hurt. “I suppose it’s a small price for a chance at life.”

“But there are other ways…”

She looked at her watch. “Can we go back now? I don’t want to leave Max alone too long, although knowing Max, companionship is one thing he never lacks.”

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“Cathy brought me a piece of the cake. Are you really finishing up today? I didn’t mean to scare you off.” He sounded sincere and for an instant she almost regretted announcing her intention to wrap things up.

Now that he knew the whole truth about her heart, she had expected he’d be anxious to see her go. Her medical condition made most people nervous. But Hank… Well, he hid any discomfort well.

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