Condemn Me Not (16 page)

SIMONE
AND MITCHELL

“It’s
not a good time.”  Mitchell pulled the heather gray T-shirt over his head and
down into place over his torso.  He ran a hand through short waves of uncombed hair,
then slid the top drawer of his bureau closed.  “My project has another two
years build out, minimum.”

Resentment
stewed deep in Simone’s heart.  “It was supposed to be completed this summer,”
she said.  Her hip began to throb as she leaned rigid against her dresser, the
edge of mahogany furniture cutting into her muscle.  Mitchell was breaking his
promise.  They had a deal.  When Mariah left for college, she would be open for
a move.  She could follow wherever the promotion took her, and it was taking
her to Chicago.  Only her husband was refusing her due.  “Why is this the first
I’ve heard of a delay, Mitchell?”

He
shrugged.  “I’m in an unpredictable business.  Development takes time, markets
shift.”

Or
crash
,
she thought bitterly.  Once again, Mitchell’s risky career path was infringing
upon her stable and planned career path.  “Can’t Raymond hold it together
without you?”

“It’s
not fair to ask him.”

“But
it’s fair to ask me to forgo my promotion?”

“Babe.”
 His gaze softened to a smoky caramel, enhanced by the low light of their
bedroom.  It was a sultry gaze, one usually reserved for romance.  “You can
still accept your promotion.  I’m not trying to stop you.”

She
bridled on the verge of losing control.  “And live by myself in Chicago?  Is
that what you want?”

“It
will only be for a year or so.  As the project comes to a close, I’ll be free
to travel more.  Until then, we can trade weekends ‘in flight.’”  He smiled, a
flicker of lust licking at the bronze in his eyes.  “Think of the miles we’ll
rack up.”

But
Simone’s thoughts chose a different route. 
Think of the cost
. 
Think
of the time apart
. 
Think of what it would do to the relationship
.

Mitchell
came to her and prying her away from the dresser, took her in his arms and
enfolded her within a warm hug.  Ignoring her resistance, he spoke into her
hair.  “Besides, you’ll be working ten-hour days.  We’ll both be exhausted,
lonely, and looking forward to the weekends...”  Mitchell kissed the side of
her head and whispered, “Think of how hot they’ll be.”

Simone
fought the scent of his cologne, the richly scented cream he used to shave each
night before bed.  She shouldn’t have to think about any of those things! 
Mitchell should be moving to Chicago with her, day one.  Simone broke away from
his grasp.

In
fact, they shouldn’t be having this discussion at all.  “I want this
promotion.”

“I
understand.”  He was a solitary figure, deserted in the middle of their
bedroom.  He felt distant to her, the olive-hued walls adding to further dampen
the mood.  “But this is a big job for me.  I can’t just up and leave it.”

Instantly
she wondered at the guarded hesitation in his eyes. 
Was he leveraged more
than she knew
? 
Was he in trouble
?

“You’ll
have your promotion,” he continued.  “I’ll just have to follow at a later
date.”

“Mitchell,”
she said flatly, more concerned with her own professional welfare at the
moment.  “It’s my turn.  You’ve had your time in first position.  I want mine
now.”

“Simone,
I can’t drop everything in the middle of a project because your promotion has
come due.  And since when did this become a competition?”  An unusual hurt
kicked in his gaze.  “His versus hers?”

“Well,
someone has to give.”  Lifting a decorative pillow, a rich chocolate brown and navy,
Simone yanked the downy soft ivory comforter and bedspread away, revealing the
pale blue sheets beneath.  “It’s like we planned.  When Mariah moved out, I was
free to move up.  I deserve this promotion, Mitchell.” 
And I won’t let you
ruin it for me
.

“I
agree.  And you’ll have it.  Take it, move to Chicago—”

“Alone?” 
Simone hovered on the verge of tears.  This wasn’t the sweet taste of
celebration she’d been anticipating when Mitchell learned of her promotion. 
Len was thrilled for her.  The office staff was happy, but sad to see her go. 
Yet
this is how her husband treated her
? 
Sending her off to another city
alone
?

Mitchell
gave a sigh of exasperation and closed the space between them.  “You’re not
going to be alone.  Why do you keep saying that?”  He brushed loose strands of
hair from her brow and traced its curve.  “It’s not like I’m abandoning you.  I
simply have unfinished business.  Once I wrap this deal up, I’m all yours.” 
Mitchell took her face in his hands and about to kiss her, seemed to think
better of it.  “Let’s say we head out next month on a house-hunting trip,
okay?  Just the two of us.”

“Grr...” 
She grunted and pulled free from his grasp.  “You make sending me away seem so
happy and homey.”

He
laughed, unaffected.  “Isn’t it?  I have the most amazing wife skyrocketing up
the ladder of fortune and fame—what’s not happy about that?  As to the homey
part, I know you’ve been dying to get back to Hyde Park.”  He hung a hand from
the bedpost, adding, “And I want to go with you.”

“A
year later.”

“The
time will fly—you watch.”

“I’m
worried about Claire,” she said, the abrupt change in gears as much a reprieve
for herself as genuine concern for her friend.

Mitchell’s
gaze reflected the sentiment.  Jim and Claire were his friends, too.

Simone
dropped to the edge of the mattress.  “She needs me.”  Though next time, she’d
have to do better than she did today.  Simone lifted a heel to her knee and
massaged the arch of her foot.  Upsetting Claire was not the goal.  Supporting
her was.

“She
has you,” he reassured, following the shift in conversation without reproach. 
“You’ll be by her side every step of the way, supporting her in the way only
you can.”

“From
Chicago?”

“We
have phones.  We have planes.  You’ll talk to her every day and when you’re in
town, you’ll be by her side in person.”

“It
isn’t good enough.  She needs hand-holding, and I’m it.”

Mitchell
tilted his head toward her.  “Jim can hold her hand when you’re not around.”

“And
with Rebecca leaving...”  Simone shot her gaze to the ceiling and a wave of
tears flowed into her lids, tears she felt as much for herself as she did for
Claire.  “It’s not fair.  What is she going to do?  How is she going to
manage?”

“You
act like she’s helpless.”

“But
she’s not ready for this kind of life-changing event.  You didn’t see her
today.”  While her conversation with Claire didn’t leave them in a happy
place—something to be expected under the circumstance—Mitchell wasn’t there to
hear Claire’s indecision, her lack of forethought.  It killed Simone to see her
best friend flapping in the wind with no sense of direction, purpose.  “She
needs something to work for, to shoot for.”

“And
living isn’t enough?” he questioned, his tone slightly mocking.

“Oh,
you know what I mean,” she said, her exasperation rising.  Simone changed feet,
rubbing the ache from wearing three-inch heels all day, the plush carpet
comforting and warm to her soles.  “Claire needs to have a goal.  She needs to
have something to look forward to—other than this disease.  But she doesn’t. 
She hasn’t even thought past this summer, let alone the next twenty years!” 
Which made Simone crazy.

“Day
by day is the key.”  Mitchell strolled over to his side of the bed, as though his
wife had dismissed him.  “She’ll survive,” he said to her.  “Claire’s a
fighter, just like you.  She won’t take this diagnosis as the final word—she’ll
fight it.”

Simone
wished she could be so certain.  After their talk this afternoon, Claire seemed
clueless as to what lay ahead.  What did she plan on doing with the rest of her
life?  She had twenty, thirty, forty years to fill.  Other than holidays with
her kids, a vacation with her husband, what did she have to look forward to? 
Sure, she was a fighter—but what did she have to fight for?  Housekeeping? 
Reading?

Claire
needed to get serious if she was going to beat this thing.  If her brother’s
battle with prostate cancer taught Simone anything, it was that the power of
the mind could overcome disease, so long as it had something else to focus
upon.  For Todd it was teaching.  A university professor, he threw himself into
his work and his students, and he’d found healing in his service to others. 
Faculty staff had offered him as much time off as he needed, but Todd refused. 
Teaching was his passion.  It’s what he lived for, and to take him away from
his classroom—well, you might as well have filed his death certificate.  His
heart would have been in the same place.

Simone
wiped her eyes, tamped down the welling anger.  She tossed ornamental pillows
to the floor beside her bed, situated the remainder against the ornately carved
headboard, and then slipped in between her sheets, the 800-thread count providing
a luxurious glide for her heels and toes.  The report she had prepared to
summarize lay abandoned on her nightstand.  She was in no frame of mind for
numbers.  Not when her husband was denying her.  This promotion was her reward,
her prize for years of hard work yet he expected her to go it alone.  He was
staying back with the daughter who reviled her.

Simone’s
heart sank.  It made for an empty victory.

Mitchell
turned on his lamp and settled in for his customary hour of reading.  Mostly
money magazines, technology and architectural digests, but it was the stuff of
dreams for him.  And Claire?  What did she have?  She hadn’t picked up a brush
in ages and with Rebecca’s announcement, she should comprehend even more fully
the paucity of her situation.  She had nothing.  In a few years, Jimmy and Joe
would leave and she’d be alone.  Twelve hours a day, she’d sit staring at four
walls and a layer of dust, an empty sink and a bare refrigerator, counting the
minutes until her dear husband came home. 
How uplifting was that for a
future
?

Simone
switched off her light.  It wasn’t.  It was depressing.  Much like Mariah’s
decision.  Moving in with her boyfriend was her biggest mistake thus far. 
Tying herself to him and this business venture...  It would all but gut her
future, and guarantee her a life of struggle.  Simone scooted down the length
of the bed and dragged the light down blanket up to her breast, leaving the
bedspread in folds over her lower legs.  The only bright spot had been
Mitchell’s unequivocal support of her position.  He had told Mariah in no
uncertain terms that he was not okay with her decision to move in with Logan. 
The business deal—fine, so long as she had everything in writing up front, to
protect her interests.  But living together?  Absolutely not.

Simone
spewed out a tired sigh.  Mitchell would not support his daughter if she lived
under the same roof with that boy unless they were married.  Staring at the
green-gray wall, her mind stilled, an ugly thought beginning to form.  Visions
of Mariah flipping her off as she sauntered down the aisle in an extravagant,
low cut wedding gown stuck in her brain like a chewed piece of gum. 
Let’s
hope she doesn’t decide to climb that mountain before she’s ready.
But Simone
didn’t doubt for a second the option existed in Mariah’s arsenal of rebellion. 
If pushed, Mariah would do anything to “insult” her mother and show her who was
calling the shots around here.  But why?

Why
did Mariah hate her so much
? 
What had she done to deserve this level of
animosity
?

All
she ever wanted for her daughter, for herself, was the power of independence. 
Since when was that a bad thing?  Memories of her own mother’s perfectly
coiffed hair and made-up face twisted in her mind’s eye.  Her mother never
worked a day in her life, unless you counted one year at the law firm,
work
. 
But that didn’t count.  Her mom quit before she ever got started.  Instead, she
volunteered at her local library, donated her time and money to the local food
banks, carted kids from activity to activity while her housekeeper cared for
the cleaning and laundry.  And then of course there was the show—perfume and
smiling face to meet her husband upon his arrival home.

Simone
punched the pillow into shape beneath her head.  Her mother was probably afraid
her husband would divorce her, leaving her with nothing.  Nothing—because she
never achieved anything on her own.  She had a law degree, but rather than
practice and earn a living, she traded it for a “Mrs.” degree.

Which
Simone never understood.  How could an intelligent woman go through life
entirely dependent on her spouse?  Luckily for her mom, she and her dad
remained married to this day, but had he decided otherwise...  What would she
have done?

What
could
she have done?

Simone
shuddered to think of how different things would have been.  It was a prospect
she had outright rejected for herself.  She would never be dependent on a man
for her income.  It’s why she worked so hard for her grades, graduating with
honors from Brown University.  It’s why she’d been discussing college with
Mariah since the day she set foot in kindergarten.  Education mattered. 
Independence was critical.  Yes, people made it in this life without an
education, but they were the exception, not the rule.  Mariah was a smart girl,
Simone would grant her that.  Nor did she lack for guts.  But when it came to
accurately judging people and situations around her, the girl tended to be a
bit naïve.