Unravelled Page 19

  It’s late morning when Adam storms into the office. I get startled by his abrupt entrance and give a little yelp. I’m in the middle of calculating some unexpected costs from the electricians and since math requires extra concentration from me, I haven’t had my eye, the one that is not swollen, on the door. My yelp startles Ray, who looks up from his place-setting planning for the opening banquet and in a high voice asks, “What? What?” with his head pivoting from me to Adam and back a few times.

  Adam takes all this in and then bursts out laughing. I’ve seen Adam smile quite a lot this weekend, and I’ve heard him chuckle, but I’ve never heard him give a belly laugh like this. Ray and I look at each other quizzically, shrug and both wait for Adam to finish. Ray looks decidedly uncomfortable and I’m sitting with my top lip pulled up on the one side in a weird half smile.

  “Um, Adam... what are you laughing about?” My sincere question sets him off once again and I deem it wise to keep quiet in this specific situation. After a few more moments, Adam takes a shaky breath and straightens up.

  “I heard that you punched yourself in the eye and would not believe it. I thought it was a physical improbability, but once again you’ve proven me wrong.”

  “Oh, that,” I sigh. By the time my very trusted and discreet assistant Ray returned from the kitchen with some ice for my eye, half the office knew that I had punched myself. I’m sure that it took that half a full five minutes to inform the other half of the office about my ‘new look. There has been a steady flow of curious individuals just happening to walk past my office and steal a peek at my already discoloured and swollen eye.

  I was especially surprised when Agatha came into my office to bring down a document that I only need tomorrow. I think the expression on her face is the closest anyone will ever see to a smile, and I’m glad to be the one who brought laughter to her day. I’m being sarcastic. She was rather stern to Ray about certain receipt that he was supposed to have filed with her which he didn’t, so I don’t think my eye lightened her mood much. And now Adam has come to see my puffed, colourful eye.

  “Don’t worry about me so much, Adam. I will be okay,” I say sarcastically and angrily punch numbers into my calculator. Not to calculate anything. I just want to punch something, anything. He might have brought me much satisfaction, several times this weekend, but I’m too aware of my painful eye to be in a post-coital forgiving mood. Adam looks at me for a few intense minutes, walks over to my desk, takes my head into his hands and gently places a kiss above my mutilated eye.

  “Now you’ll be okay,” he smiles and straightens. “How’s your car?”

  “Oh Adam, it’s perfect. I love the daisies.”

  “I looked for something with bombs on it, but it looked too macabre, so I stayed with my first idea. Al gave me a few strange looks.”

  “I’m sure he did.” We smile at each other and I think how much I enjoy this man. It won’t be difficult to accept his proposal. I don’t know how long we’ve been looking at each other, but Ray clearing his throat very loudly brings us back to reality and Adam walks to the door. He winks at me and nods at Ray in greeting.

  “Ray.”

  “Mr Montgomery.”

  I stare at the empty space in the door where Adam had been only seconds ago and sigh dramatically. How am I going to handle this situation when Adam is being openly affectionate with me? I sigh again and drop my forehead in the crook of my arm on the desk.

  “Ray,” I mumble.

  “Yes, Alex?”

  “Did you tell anyone I slept with Adam when you told them about my eye?” I ask from the folds of my sleeve, dreading the answer.

  “No!” He sounds so horrified at that idea that I turn my head and look at him. “Alex, that is nobody’s business but your own, as you proved by not telling me anything.” He was rather put out when I refused to give him any detail – no matter how much he begged, cajoled or threatened.

  “Thank you.” What a relief. Through unfortunate experience I’ve learned that the more public a relationship, the more painful the break-up and I really want to keep this one under wraps since I have no idea where it’s heading.

  “Doll, it’s going to be very difficult keeping it private when you two love birds stare into each other’s eyes like you did just now.”

  “Oh yes, that.”

  “Yes, that.” He rolls his eyes at my obvious state of infatuation. “It’s as clear as day that you are in love.”

  “I’m not!” I lift my head from my arm and glare at him with one eye.

  “Doll, you are in love. And not only are you in love, that man also deeply adores you.”

  “You think so?”

  “I don’t think so, I know so. All anyone has to do is notice how he looks at you. I wish a man would look at me like that.” He sighs wistfully. “No, he positively adores you and I can see you are in love with him.”

  “Ray, I’m not in love with that man.”

  “Oh puh-lease,” he laughs. “If you’re not in love with him, then I’m the queen of England.”

  “Ray, you’re already a queen.” We both burst out laughing at my wit and I hope that this signals the end of this conversation, but my luck does not seem to hold.

  “Um...” Ray hesitates and plays with his pen, a habit he has that betrays his nervousness. This does not bode well for me and my stomach does a triple back somersault. “I think you need to know that there’s an office pool with a substantial amount of money placed on the date of your first...uh...action.”

  The sounds that escapes from me sounds as strangled as I feel at this very moment. I throw my head back into the crook of my arm and really wish I could just stay there. Despite Erin’s attempts, Juan’s make-over and Bart’s coaching, I still have stayed true to character – the kind of person other people place bets on.

  Here’s the thing though, I don’t really care. I am who I am, and I rather like that person. I go into deep self-dislike when I embarrass myself, but since I’ve lived with that glitch my whole life, I’m used to it. My recent attempt to change who I am, has not only been utterly exhausting to my soul and torturous to my feet, but I have come to agree with Pam. It’s wrong to not be true to myself.

  These deep insights into my soul brings new pain to my head, but what really makes my eye ache even more at this moment is not that they bet on Adam and I doing ‘it’, but they placed bets on the when. I utter another groan and wish that I had had Houdini as a coach. Then I could escape this craziness that is my life. I lie on my arm very grateful to hear Ray working on his computer. I really don’t want to undergo any more of his interrogation. As a matter of fact, I just want to disappear right now.

  But, I’m my grandmother’s offspring and after two minutes of self-pity, I lift my head and attack my computer once again. It’s interesting how different things look when one uses only one eye. It takes a while for me to get used to how things appear on-screen, but in no time I’m lost in answering the thirteen emails that all of a sudden appeared in my inbox.

  “Good lord, Alex. It’s true.” Jamie walks into the room and stares at my eye with undisclosed fascination.

  “Hi Jamie.”

  “How did she do this?” He addresses the question to Ray, but looks at me as he walks around my desk to get an even closer look.

  “Jamie, back off.” I will bite.

  “But I want to see.” He leans in.

  “No.”

  “But...”

  “I think you should listen to her. She’s been in a violent mood all day,” Rays says from behind his computer screen.

  “Only after you caused me to punch myself in the face.” Thankfully Jamie is back to the other side of my desk and is surprised at my accusation aimed at Ray. The two of them continue to talk about my eye and I’m back at punching my calculator.

  “Roger told me you came with your car this morning.” Never doubt the security guard to keep everyone in the loop.

  “I got Bomb this morning and Al did an ama
zing job.” On the way to the office I was thinking how Bomb had undergone the equivalent of my make-over, just with more permanent results. At least Bomb doesn’t have a personality that is in dire conflict with power suits and killer heels. That is what led me to consider dropping the make-over thing altogether. I might keep the matching bra-and-panty sets. And the hairstyle. I’ve come to like a few of those sexy shoes as well, but the power suits will have to go!

  “How long will it take with Mr Montgomery’s car?” Jamie’s question brings me back to this moment.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Al told me that he discussed it with Mr Montgomery and they sorted everything out, so there is nothing to worry about.” My ambiguous statement is aimed at reassuring Jamie and it seems to work.

  “Well, I’ll let you get on with your day, then.” Jamie turns to Ray with a twinkle in his eye. “If she does anything wild again, I want to be the first to know.”

  I groan loudly and throw my head back on my arms when Jamie leaves the office. Not even three hours ago I thought that nothing could ruin this day, but everything’s gone south since that thought. And just when I think that my day can not get worse, I hear the recognisable clatter of female heels and hear Ray utter the dreaded greeting.

  “Good morning, Zondra.”

  Chapter 22

  “Good morning, Zondra.” I say with as much dignity as I can muster behind my eye, which is the object of Zondra’s focus at this moment. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  “I have the finalised and signed contracts of the last three musicians for you.” She looks for a clear surface to put her slim briefcase on, but sees the lack of open space and settles for balancing it on her forearm while she extracts said papers.

  “You didn’t have to go through all the trouble of bringing it here.” I look at Ray who with his lifted shoulders and facial expression silently asks me what is happening. I’m busy gesturing back when Zondra straightens and hands me a manila envelope. I quickly recover by changing my lifted shoulders into an awkward neck-roll-stretch and smile thankfully. “So kind of you.”

  It is very obvious that the woman in front of me has no intention of leaving soon and once again my trusted assistant betrays me by offering Zondra a chair. She smiles charmingly, like the snake in the Jungle Book cartoons, and sits down with great elegance.

  “I think I’ll go for a quick lunch.” He grabs his wallet and before I could say ‘traitor’, Ray’s out the office, leaving me with Zondra.

  My suspicions have sadly been proved right. After that fateful night at Heaven, she’s been more accommodating and actually had all legal concerns wrapped up pretty quickly, but there is still that hidden sharpness about her that I don’t trust. Whenever I speak to Zondra I have a feeling that something is wrong, dangerous even and just can put my finger on it. I also think that if I could put my finger on it, I would have to wash it with bleach.

  I was never under impression that a beautiful friendship was going to come from that night and it’s a good thing that I didn’t hold my breath for it. She’s been more helpful, but I think her vulnerability that night made her more defensive when it comes to me. And this new friendliness is disconcerting. She’s up to something.

  “So... how is everything going?” Her voice drips with interest and sincerity, and all my internal alarms go on red alert.

  “Um... everything is on schedule. We are just tying up some loose ends, but I plan to spend most of the week at the site overseeing the final preparations, which is mostly the setting up the outdoor stalls, the interior decorations and basically the final touches. Thank you for asking.”

  Once Ray and I actually got past my eye-incident this morning and he realised that I was not going to kiss and tell, we were able to focus on the festival. That’s when I realised that my work-marathon at the end of last week resulted in almost everything being finalised. Ray did everything he had put down on his to-do list on Friday and when we looked at the list of what needed to be done, most of the columns for ‘finalised’ were ticked. I was pleasantly surprised and glad to be free from the office and paperwork so that I can go to the site. That free feeling has disappeared like mist before the sun, and sitting across from Zondra makes me feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming eighteen wheeler and there’s nothing I can do, except wait and see where it takes me. I lean back in my chair and ask sincerely, “How are you?”

  “Oh, I’m fine, just fine, thank you.” It must be the most insincere answer I received in a long while which leads me to think that not much about this visit is sincere. She picks an invisible bit of fluff off her skirt and looks at me with friendship and compassion percolating from her every pore. Alarm bells went off. “I hear that you and Adam have been living together.”

  “He offered his guest house, but when it flooded I moved into the main house and have been in the guest suite since. He’s been very kind to me.” I’m over explaining. Why am I doing this? I should not talk. Not talking is the biggest personal challenge I have to face – I think I might be physically incapable of not speaking. I briefly close my eyes and hope to blazers that I can control my mouth today. Zondra seems keen to talk and she continues in her sincere voice.

  “It is so much better than a dirty old hotel room.”

  “Indeed.” I give her the simplest answer I can think of. The little voice in my head is shouting at me to be quiet and I press my lips together to control my urge to speak, and smile at her.

  Her look weighs me up while my lips are beginning to lose feeling from still being pressed together. If ever there was a time to be quiet, now is it. I’m proud of myself when I succeed and wait for Zondra to reveal the real purpose of her visit.

  “As you friend...” Alarms continue to ring in my head. “...I want to give you a little heads-up. Did you know that Adam’s family is one of the most revered and oldest in this area? I didn’t think so. After all, you’re only house mates, right? When his grandfather died, people were surprised that Adam came to Villsburg. He had his whole life happening for him in the city.” She smiles off into the distance. “His grandfather was so proud of him and his future.”

  Ok, I’ll bite. I could stop the conversation right here, but as usual I tickle the dragon knowing that there will be heat to follow. “Hmm-mm?”

  “Oh, you don’t know?” The fake surprise in her voice and the hand on her chest makes me cringe. I sigh and shake my head. My lips are still pressed together.

  “Oh, then maybe I shouldn’t tell you. Or... maybe I should. As your friend.” I now go quiet inside with the anticipation of what is about to happen. This is the same feeling I had when I opened my front door to find special investigation unit guys aiming their guns at me.

  “Before the old Mr Montgomery passed on, Adam had his career all laid out in front of him. For some strange reason he resigned from his position of CEO after the death of his grandfather, but kept his shares in the company.” This much I know – Adam mentioned it to me one day. “He also gave up a penthouse apartment, but I’m sure his fiancée still lives there. Or, to be technically correct, his ex-fiancée. They broke up just after he came to Villsburg.”

  Now this I did not know. The shock of this news enters my body like an earthquake. I feel shaken up and disoriented, but try to focus on not letting my uninjured eye give any of my feelings away.

  Doing her friendship duty, Zondra continues, “This woman also comes from an old line of aristocrats. She dabbled in modelling for a while, but now has her own line of designer handbags. Old money, you know.” She crosses her legs like only rich confident women do and lean forward to share more confidences with me. “If I remember correctly, she bought Adam’s penthouse apartment from him when he came here. He’s been in Villsburg for the last six months, but he took full control of the company only three months ago and no one has seen him dating anyone. I suppose the girls here are below his standing and expectations. It’s rumoured that when he goes to the city, he stays with his fiancée, his ex-
fiancée, and that they still see each other, but that is just a silly old rumour.”

  She flaps her hand to emphasise how silly the rumour is. She smiles at me and when she realises that I’m not going to answer her or participate in her gossiping, she gets a cold look in her eyes that cools her friendship-smile a few degrees. “Well, there’s another rumour going through town and I thought you might want to know about it.”

  “Hmm-mm?” I’m no longer biting my lip, but feel quiet and cold. Inside and out.

  “People are saying that something is happening between you and Adam. Now, isn’t that just the silliest of rumours? Adam would never go for a girl like you. Not that you are not attractive.” Oh great. Thanks for the little crumbs of a compliment. “You’re just not his type. You are too free, too...what is the word...” She delicately holds her chin and pretend-thinks. “Iconoclastic. That is the word.” She honours me with another insincere smile. “I admire your ability to challenge tradition and create new rules as you go. Truly, it is a commendable quality.”

  Iconoclastic. Interesting. It is another word used for an unstable, disagreeing hippie. I don’t particularly feel complimented or admired.

  “I spoke to a friend of a friend and to our mutual surprise we all knew you.” I look at her with utter disbelief. The venom queen had me investigated? I feel nauseous with the knowledge that she knows about my past. “You’ve had some interesting boyfriends. Not the kind of people that would fit in here with our little community, don’t you think? Definitely not the kind of people Adam would want to be associated with.” My face has lost colour which I’m sure makes my discoloured eye even more sickeningly colourful. “It’s truly commendable that you were able to get away from those people. But don’t you feel limited in Villsburg? Small town people are not as freethinking as city people. That’s why they are so fixated on the possibility of you and Adam. What a preposterous idea!” Her little laugh subtly shows her amusement at the idea.