Andrew spent the entire three-thirty meeting spacing out while the EVP of legal and corporate affairs, Satya Singhani, droned on about the patent infringement lawsuit that Dracosys had filed against a competitor last month.
The case was going to trial in a few months, making this period a tense one for the legal and corporate affairs department. Though it would likely drag on for a few years and drain away profits, Satya had assured Andrew that they could win this one. They had all the incriminating evidence and the best lawyers from the top intellectual property firm representing them.
Presently, Satya was going over the cost of hiring all these hotshot attorneys from King & Spalding, LLP.
He should be listening. He should not be thinking of what Ashley had said yesterday. But he was thinking of exactly that.
She was scared. He didn’t blame her. She should be, if she was thinking of falling for him again. Not that he would ever allow her to do something so ridiculously stupid.
He still had sleepless nights when he thought of their marriage and of all he had read in her diary. The diary was still with him. Every time he went through it, something inside him burned. He should read it again tonight, so he could regain his rationality.
Chemistry had always been their weakness. Fireworks exploded when they were together, and burned them every time.
She made him forget about the past, made him hope, made him dream dreams he had no right to be dreaming.
Because nothing had changed from seven years ago. In fact, things had worsened. He loved her more, respected her more for the way she had battled her mental illness on her own, and wanted her more than he had seven years ago. Her body fitted into his like it had been custom-made for him. She’d lost none of that brash boldness, either. He had loved that about her more than anything else.
They were both risk-takers—which meant common sense went out of their heads the instant lust crept in. But for once in his life, he had wanted to do the right thing. Their life wasn’t something he could gamble on. Her life wasn’t something he could gamble on.
So he had replayed his favorite line—You don’t deserve her—again and again in his head at the bookstore. Resisting her, he’d walked away… but she’d caught up and murmured words that he only heard in his late-night fantasies. That had done him in.
Add in a long car ride, and her naked on his couch and basically every brain cell had been used up in trying to soak up the pleasure she was giving him rather than in useless activities such as thinking. Their conversation in the bathtub… that had been an eye-opener.
She wanted kids.
He wasn’t the man who could give her that. He wasn’t the man who could give himself that.
He’d never be able to hold her hand when she was in labor, never be able to look at his child in the hospital while the doctor congratulated him on becoming a father, never even be able to deal with the cuts and bruises his children would get as they grew older. Not while he still had his head messed up the way it was.
So he had to let her go. He had done it once; he could do it again. This time hopefully his letting go would last forever rather than seven years.
Even if he met her again a few years later, she would hopefully have a husband and kids, putting her firmly out of his reach.
Why the hell was she single now, anyway? She wasn’t lacking in anything and seven years was plenty of time to get over a divorce and get into another relationship.
The persistent voice in his head whispered its answer: She was waiting for you. Telling himself that that was as unlikely as the Blue Glacier melting, he chose to shut it out.
“So, Andrew, how does it all sound? Should I draft the contracts on these terms?” Satya asked, oblivious to the fact that Andrew had been daydreaming for the last hour.
“Sure,” Andrew said, clueless on how many dollars he had agreed to shell out for the lawyers. Definitely more than he should have.
If thinking about her cost him a few million dollars, so be it. That would make him wise enough not do it again.
“Okay, I’ll get these sorted out.” Satya cradled his laptop in the bend of his elbow. The middle-aged man cast him a curious look when he didn’t get up. He was usually the first one to get out after meetings. “Are you okay?”
“Perfectly fine.”
“You looked tired.”
That was because he hadn’t slept last night. Or the night before.
“We’re all counting on you, so take care of your health.” With that piece of advice, Satya left him alone in the empty conference room.
His personal assistant and secretary Adele rushed in the moment Satya got out. Over fifty with her graying hair in a chignon, she followed him like a shadow when he was at work.
Her energy and commitment really surprised him. She never lost momentum. He knew that she was working extra hard to prove to him that age didn’t matter. Efficiency did. Being fifty-eight, she’d been unable to get a job elsewhere, despite her tremendous experience as a personal assistant and secretary. She was holding onto this job with everything she had.
Before he could ask what his schedule was like for the day, she shot off the main items in a crisp tone.
“You have your weekly appointment with Dr. Clark this evening at six-thirty. And Mrs. Anderson called, asking whether she could meet you tonight. I didn’t know what to tell her.”
Holly Anderson was Drew’s widow.
“I’ll see her. And buy four presents and have them in my car by six. Three for kids aged two, five and seven and one for a woman in her late thirties.”
“I’ll brief you on the location and time of the meeting once I arrange it. Since your appointment with Dr. Clark will run until seven-thirty, I’ll tell her to expect you around eight or eight-thirty.”
Andrew nodded. “Thanks.”
***
Andrew buzzed the doorbell of Drew’s neo-classical townhouse on the Upper East Side. The house, with its brick-red walls and patterned windows was traditional. Drew and he had quite divergent tastes when it came to real estate. Drew had liked old, big and conventional houses while he liked modern, minimalistic apartments.
His business partner had paid a fortune for this three-storied house. And now Holly had to maintain this mansion, while managing three overactive children who made house maintenance and cleaning an impossible chore.
“Andrew,” Holly gasped, opening the door, smelling of rosemary.
“Hi.” The hinges creaked. The kids were playing on the couch, lunging at each other and throwing toys. Mike, Mia and Elizabeth. “They’ve grown since I last saw them.”
“They grow like Jack’s beanstalk at this age.” she said, looking tired. The signs of lack of sleep were all there—dull skin, dark circles, dry lips.
“This is for you.” He gave Holly the present that Adele had bought and had wrapped.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to get me anything.”
Attracted by the shine of wrapping paper, three bright-eyed kids circled around him expectantly. He handed them their packages. They ripped the wrapping immediately, much to their Holly’s chagrin.
Holly turned on her strict mother voice. “Manners. Say thank you first.”
“Thank you,” they said, reluctantly.
“I’m trying to get them to be polite, but they have to be reminded all the time.” She shook her head.
“Power Rangers!” the eldest, Mike, squeaked.
The kids started playing with their shiny new toys, totally forgetting that there was a stranger standing in the doorway.
“Sit down.” Holly motioned to the table, and he could already see where this was going.
“I definitely told my assistant to tell you to not cook for me. You’re already overburdened.”
“Your assistant said no dinner, not no dessert.” Holly winked. “And I had to cook to feed four mouths anyway.” She walked to the counter and tapped it. “Okay, everyone, time to put these away and help Mom set the table.”
The kids, used to this routine, sulked, but helped cart the plates, forks and spoons to the table. Holly brought out all the food she had cooked. There was beef bolognese and a lot of steamed vegetables. The dessert was chocolate brownies and Mia’s teeth beamed like a string of shiny pearls when Holly brought the tray of brownies to the table.
It was awkward eating at the table, especially with three kids. On most days, he ate at his desk or on his couch. Andrew attempted to make conversation in order to make the kids less wary of him.
“So Mike, how’s school?” he asked, deciding that the boy was the most approachable among the three. Mia was having a fight with Holly over wanting to eat dessert first and Elizabeth was drooling.
Talking of school made Mike’s eyes glint with exuberance. “School’s okay. I’m in third grade and at school, we’re learning to multiply.”
Wow, how quickly time flew. The last he remembered, Mike had been a newborn and he had just been divorced.
Don’t go there.
After his appointment with Dr. Clark, he didn’t need more reminders of his marriage and divorce. He’d just talked about his recent meeting with Ashley to his therapist, and come away with the understanding that the only way to protect her was by maintaining his distance.
Although she claimed that she wasn’t depressed anymore, asking her to deal with his issues would be asking for too much.
Why did their relationship look more and more improbable with every passing day? After the night at his apartment, he had hoped that they could work it out this time. But maybe that was impossible.
Holly cast him a worried look. “Is the pasta too mushy?”
He was only eating pasta, without the beef, because he was vegetarian.
“No, it’s great.” He rolled a few strands of pasta onto his fork and chewed. It was bland, really.
“You weren’t thinking about that, were you?” Her eyes glowed with insight.
Andrew changed the subject. “Mike here was telling me about school…”
Mike had moved on to smelling the brownies at the center of the table. Kids had such short attention spans. But Holly understood that he didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him.
“You visited Drew.” It wasn’t a question. “I saw the sunflowers you left. Drew loved sunflowers.”
“I know.” That was why he’d bought a bouquet of those.
“I’m thinking of moving to a smaller place. Somewhere with a park nearby. It’s not easy, keeping this house in order. The kids and I don’t need six bedrooms and eight bathrooms.”
“You’re the best judge of what to do. I trust you’ll do whatever needs to be done. You’ve handled Drew’s death really well. You’ve stayed solid for them.” He trailed to the three pairs of eyes on the brownies.
“They only have me now.” Holly looked at them tenderly.
“Can I have a brownie?” Mia showed her empty plate to her mother.
“Only one.” Holly was stern.
“It’s unfair that Mia gets to have them before me. I’m older,” Mike argued, looking at his curly-haired sibling, who was sinking her teeth into dessert.
“You can have one as soon as you finish eating what’s on your plate. That includes the veggies,” Holly said.
Mike’s nose wrinkled at the sight of broccoli. “It’s not fair that you made broccoli tonight when we had brownies.” He started shredding the carrots and broccoli on his plate with his fork.
“Mike, behave yourself. We have a guest.”
Mike stopped disfiguring his vegetables and bravely chugged down a floret of broccoli. Andrew’s plate still had three sticks of boiled carrots. He could beat Mike and Mia when it came disliking boiled vegetables.
“Right now Elizabeth is my favorite, because she hasn’t started talking much yet,” Holly admitted to Andrew with a wry laugh. “I wonder when they’ll grow up.”
“You’ll be sad when they do. They won’t listen to you anymore.”
“You could be right about that. I wonder what I’ll do when they get older and leave… It’s way too early to be thinking about that, isn’t it?” She watched the kids, each in their own world.
“Look into working from home. You can build up a network to use when you want to return to your career,” Andrew advised. Holly had given up her career as an accountant to stay home with the kids full-time after Drew’s death.
“I’ve been thinking about that. Since I’m not going to have any more kids, I should start working again. I’m trying to work out a schedule to determine how many hours I’d be able to work.” She narrowed her eyes on Mia, who was angling for another brownie. “Mia. One is all you get for today.”
Mia pouted, but didn’t throw a tantrum.
“Anyway, you must be wondering why I called your assistant. I have a favor to ask you.” She blinked rapidly. “You bought a place on Riverside Boulevard a few years ago, didn’t you? Do you still have the contact details of the realtor? I want to start looking for a new place.”
“My personal assistant would have it. I’ll ask her to send it to you.” He grabbed a brownie and swallowed a bite. “You should consider opening up a bakery. These brownies smell like bestsellers.”
Holly laughed. “I’m not that enterprising. Enterprise was Drew’s strength, not mine. I was always the girl looking for a safe and secure job with a steady paycheck.”
“You were. I think that’s what he used to like about you. Your ability to find certainty and stick to it.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, that’s just my impression. What he told me was that he was in love in you because you were the most wonderful person he’s ever met.”
Holly smiled wistfully. “He said that to me, too.”
“Drew was very warm-hearted. He didn’t hide anything. He said everything that crossed his mind.” Another difference between him and Andrew.
“He was very genuine. Very open.” Andrew agreed, ruefully, the loss of his friend still stinging.
“He was.”
The kids were getting restless, arguing with each other. They didn’t quite understand what was being talked about, because they weren’t paying attention.
Glancing at the clock, which was about to strike nine, Andrew decided it was time for him to leave. Holly would have to start putting the kids to sleep, since they had school tomorrow.
“I’ll leave. It’s getting late.”
“Thank you for coming over, Andrew. It was great talking to someone my own age about something other than pre-school admissions, post-natal yoga or breakfast recipes. And thanks for getting the kids presents.” Holly leaned against the doorframe as she saw him out.
“Take care.” He hugged her. “And… you should think about finding someone else. Adele wanted you to know that, but she didn’t want to say it. I agree with her.”
“I think you should look into remarrying before advising me. At least I’ll have my kids when I grow old. Who will you have?”
Excellent question.
Andrew tried to construct an appropriate response to that all the way home while the city lights rolled by his car window. The fact that he couldn’t come up with anything even when he was at the entrance of his apartment building disturbed him.
He had never once considered himself to be alone.
Now he was starting to reconsider that.
