Hush (7 page)

I arrived at the door promptly at 7:30.  I only had to knock once when the door swung open.  Olivia stood before me in a form-fitting coral pencil skirt, chunky black pumps, and a see-through white blouse with clunky gold buttons down the front.  I had to fight every urge to give her a once over as she smiled widely at me.  “Good morning,” I said with a smile of my own, forcing myself to keep my eyes on hers.

“Good morning.  You weren’t lying when you said 7:30, were you?” she asked jokingly.  “Come on in.  I only need one more second and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Not a problem.  Take your time,” I said, stepping one step into the room.  Her perfume clung to the air in the small space, being challenged by the harsh aroma of coffee.  She moved quickly into the bathroom as I stood awkwardly by the door.  Her suitcase hung open on the stand next to the TV.  Her bed as neatly made as if she hadn’t slept in it at all.

She emerged from the bathroom sticking some stud diamonds into her lobes.  He hair was pinned back tightly in the front, but hung loosely in the back, falling over her shoulders delicately.  In all my years of working with high society women, I knew dress styles, hair styles, even make-up styles and what each of them meant.  From Olivia, I saw a girl desperately trying to be seen as a woman.  I was glad she had failed at covering it up.

“Alright, I think I’m ready,” she announced, grabbing her designer bag.  With her back turned, I was able to admire her sleek curves and long tanned legs, affirming Red’s prediction of this job being a bad idea.

I opened the door for her.  “After you.”  I waved her through.

“How was your night?” she asked, as we made our way to the elevator.

“It was just fine, thank you.  How was yours?  Did you sleep well?”

“You know, when I walked into the bathroom last night,” Olivia started as we stepped into the elevator.  “I found some ear plugs in with the shampoo and soap and all that.  I thought it was odd, but then when I turned the TV off later in the night and was lying down to fall asleep, I realized what they were for.  It’s really noisy outside.”

I smiled and nodded.  “Yeah.  Downtown especially.  I usually stay at a hotel in East Lake View and it’s the same thing there.  I’m sure if you lived here, you’d get used to it, but it’s probably a bit different from your quiet little neighborhood.”

“It sure is.  You don’t appreciate something like silence until you don’t have any.”

The valet held the door open for Olivia and me.  I stepped past her once we were out on the street and pulled the car door open for her.

“So do you stay at the same place each time you’re here?” Olivia asked from the back seat, as I cut a gap into the busy morning traffic.

“Yeah.  It’s an older hotel, a Days Inn, but I’m a creature of habit.  I always find I’m going back there.  Plus it’s really close to my office.  It’s just convenient for me to stay there.  They know me there.  It may be a little older, but it’s very well maintained and respectable.  The people there are great ,too.  It’s like a home away from home.”

“You probably have one of those everywhere you go, right?”

I nodded.  “I do. It’s just easier that way.  Then I don’t have to call all over town looking for a room.  I’ve actually got an old family apartment in New York City.  My grandparents used to live there when my dad was younger.  They left it to him when they passed and he left it to me when he passed.”

Olivia gushed.  “Oh, New York.  I’ve never been, but I’ve always wanted to go there.”

I smiled.  “It’s probably one of my favorite places to go.  It’s the best in the fall.”

I pulled up outside the Feinberg Pavilion of Northwestern University.  “Do you know where you’re going from here or would you like me to escort you in?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.

“No, it looks like they’ve got signs all over.  I think I should be okay.  If I’m not, I probably shouldn’t be attending this conference,” Olivia said, staring out the window.

I hurried out of the driver’s seat, getting to her door before she could open it.  “You have my number.  Just give me about twenty minutes heads up before you want me to come get you and I’ll meet you right back in this spot,” I explained, as I helped her out of the back seat.  I could see the anxiety in her eyes, like a scared puppy stepping into a vet’s office.

“That sounds great.  It probably won’t be until late afternoon.  I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not in the least.  That’s what I’m here for.”  I smiled.  “Good luck today,” I added before she headed off.

I pulled out my cell phone as I sunk back into the driver’s seat.  “Alec, it’s Callem Tate.” I said when one of the workers answered at the Chicago office.  “I’m in town and I plan on stopping by today.  When will Todd be in?  Alright.  I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.  Don’t warn him.”

“Okay, looks like she took a cab downtown to the Omni,” Red said, bursting into my office.  “She left here a couple of hours ago.  I called the front desk and they don’t have an Olivia checked in.  No Dr. Reinbeck or Mrs. Tate either.  She used her card there, but put a DNC on her room with an alias.  We can do one of two things.  We can go down there on third shift and rough up the concierge until they give up her room or we can ask the boys to hack their system and get the info for us.”

I sat back, pleased with the information he’d presented me, but unsure how to proceed.  “As freaked out as she is, I don’t see her going to the police or a lawyer.  Legally, she can’t turn me in for anything as my wife and I honestly don’t think she’ll involve the police.  She’s probably worried about getting herself in trouble by doing so.  Let’s give it a day, see what she does.  I feel better knowing where she is, you know, that she didn’t skip town.  She won’t leave Erin, and I’m sure she’s probably already called her.”

“Let’s just hope she didn’t tell Erin anything,” Red added.

“If I don’t hear from Liv or see her tomorrow, we’ll go pay Erin a visit, see if we can shake anything out of her easily.  If not, we’ll revisit the plan.”

I had to be careful about this.  I couldn’t let things lead down the wrong path, though I didn’t see Olivia going that far.  She was stronger than that.  She was a fighter.  Though I would normally be nervous about that, the fact was comforting.

“So what do you need me to do tonight?” Red asked.

I rubbed my forehead.  I still hadn’t looked at him since our little tiff.  I hadn’t lied when I said I wouldn’t forget what he’d said.  It was on the forefront of my mind, stuck there like a fly trapped in a web, squirming to get free.  “Can we get a tap on the phone in her room?”

I heard Red suck in a deep breath.  “I couldn’t do this without knowing what room number she was in.  And even then, it could be tricky.  Those phones are on their own internal system.  It’s possible, but would take some time.”

“What about a call log?  She doesn’t have her cell so anyone she wants to call, she’ll have to call from there.  If we can’t hear what she’s saying, can we at least know who she’s calling?”

“That’s going to be easier, but still will take a bit of time.  Let me see if I can at least get into their internal system and start going through their guests.  Maybe I will be able to narrow her down that way and then get to work on her phone.”  Red swept out of the room as quickly as he had come.

I was in for a long night.

I tried to engage myself in the conversation around me, but my eyes were on the doors.  I felt so out of place, I just wanted to flee, but I couldn’t just yet, not without my chariot.  I was chatting with Dr. Stephanie Quint, who I had met before at Berkeley and, coincidentally, we bumped into each other at the day’s first seminar.  She was kind enough to introduce me to a few of her colleagues.

My anxiety kicked in something fierce.

I had called Callem nearly half an hour ago and he still wasn’t here.  I needed an escape.  I avoided their eyes; Dr. Gary Bayliss, a younger surgeon with a faint Australian accent, who worked at the University of Iowa Children’s Hospital, Dr. Albert Frese, a seasoned anesthesiologist from Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Dr. Karen Podell, the oldest of the group, an orthopedic surgeon from right here in Chicago, and Dr. Quint.  I read so much in their down-nosed expressions as they practically demanded my résumé in the most courteous, yet slightly condescending way.

Finally, my lungs expelled the thick, murky air of discomfort in a long exhale as Callem appeared at the door.  “My ride is here,” I announced, stepping my foot into a conversation I hadn’t really been a part of.  “It was wonderful meeting you all.  I hope to see you again tomorrow.”

“Yes, Dr. Reinbeck.  Good to meet you too.”  Dr. Bayliss took my clammy hand in his.  I shook the rest of their hands before I shuffled away.

I smiled widely at Callem. “Dr. Reinbeck, my apologies for the delay,” Callem started.  “I hope you had a good day.”  He held the door open for me.

I was starting to dislike his formalities.  I’d have to address that.  “No need to apologize.  And thank you, yes, I did have a nice day,” I explained.

“Would you like me to take you back to the hotel?” Callem asked, as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Actually, I really need a drink,” I sighed.  “Is it unprofessional to invite you to dinner?”

I wish I could have seen Callem’s expression before he answered.  He kept his eyes out the front windshield.  “Not at all, but you’re not paying for me this time,” he added coyly.  “Where to?”

“You know this town.  You’re behind the wheel.  I’m just along for the ride,” I said, leaning back.

Callem nodded and we were off.  We drove in silence as I sifted through emails on my phone.  I made one quick call to my nurse, Amanda, to check in and before I knew it, Callem was parking the car.  I stuffed my silenced phone into the front of my bag as the door opened for me and Callem’s hand appeared to help me out.

The sun had dipped behind the buildings, but golden rays still cast an orange light over the city.  “We’ve got to walk a little ways.  There wasn’t a spot closer than this,” Callem explained.  “I hope you like Italian.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.  Nothing like a belly full of carbs to end the night,” I said as we started down the sidewalk.  “Did you get a lot of work done today?”

Callem nodded.  “I did.  I haven’t been on site here in Chicago for a couple of months and it was probably a couple of months too long.  Things were a little out of order for my taste so it was a much needed visit.”

“Ah, one of those kinds of visits, huh?  I’m sure your employees were glad to see you then,” I chuckled quietly.

“Um, no.  They probably could have done without me or at least had more of a heads-up so they could get things in order I before I just dropped in on them.  Secretly, I love to catch them off guard like that.”

He and I both chuckled lightly.  “So what’s this place you’re taking me to?”

“Renaldi’s.  It’s amazing.  I know it well.  I eat here nearly every time I come to town.  It’s phenomenal.”

I spotted the large tan sign with the cursive green lettering just ahead, perched on the side of a burgundy canopy over the entrance.  As usual, Callem held the door open for me.  Just inside the door was the pizza-making station.  One man was topping a doughy crust while another was behind him tossing the dough over his head in a theatrical display, spinning it off his fists and sending it in the air above him before catching it.

“Ello, welcome to Renaldi’s,” the host greeted us in an Italian accent.  “Just the two of you this evening?”

“Yes.”  I nodded before he led us to a booth in the back corner of the restaurant.  The dining area had two large round tables in the middle surrounded by a few smaller tables and two rows of booths on either side of the room.  The large round tables were so large, they had Lazy Susans in the middle of them, fit for a true and large Italian family.

“My name is Rafe.  Would you like to start off with drinks?”  the host asked, transforming himself into our waiter.

Callem looked at me.  Ladies first I suppose.  “I’d love a glass of, um, merlot.  Let’s just start with the merlot,” I said.

“A water will be fine for me,” Callem said, turning his attention to his menu.

Rafe turned and walked under a large ornate archway leading to another section of the restaurant, disappearing out of sight.  I turned to my menu also.  I felt like a bit of a lush drinking on my own, but not only did Callem have a professional image to uphold, he was my driver.  I suppose it was best if he didn’t indulge, even if only a little.

“What do you usually get here when you come?” I asked Callem, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the mouthwatering choices in front of me.

“I try something new every time,” he explained.  “Let’s see, I’ve had the stuffed shells, both the chicken Angelo and the chicken Monte Carlo.  The baked ziti is good.  The eggplant parmigiana and spinach ravioli are good too.  Their pizza though, that’s where it’s at.”

I looked over my shoulder at the two men still making the pizza pies behind me.  “It sure does smell wonderful in here,” I noted, turning back to the menu as Rafe returned with our drinks.

“Would you like to order any appetizers?  Baked ravioli, some cheese and garlic bread?” Rafe offered.

Again, Callem looked at me.  “No, thank you,” I replied.

“Do you need a few more minutes?” Rafe asked.

“Yes please,” Callem said, without a consulting gaze this time.

“Not a problem.  Take your time. I will check on you in a few minutes,” Rafe explained before turning back to the host stand.

I cupped the delicate wine glass in my hand and took a long drink.  I could feel Callem watching me for a long second before averting his eyes back to his distracting menu.  “Oh, that hit the spot,” I mumbled, carefully setting the glass down.  “My nerves went a little crazy back there.”

“Social anxiety,” Callem said, referring back to the topic of conversation over our first meal together.

“Yes, exactly.  I didn’t think it would bother me so much because I’d be in a room of colleagues rather than coeds, but I guess it’s all the same.  Everyone still looks at me like a little girl.  I don’t think they take me seriously.  I know I’m just being paranoid, but I can’t shake that feeling of insignificance.  If it’s not that, I’m an attraction.  I should have had my own panel at the conference and opened it up to questions.  That’s what it felt like.  Everyone I met wanted to know about my bedside manner and my patient’s reactions to my age and my work load and my residency and how I got my foot in the door already.  I’ve never felt so judged before in my life.  Sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping all of this on you.”  I picked up the glass again for another pull.

“No need to apologize.  I can see why you wanted a drink,” Callem said, closing his menu and giving me his full attention.

“I don’t even know if I want to go tomorrow.  I wish the cancer care team seminar was today.  It’d really give me an excuse to duck out early.  That particular seminar is the only reason I came to the conference to begin with so I can’t miss it.”

“I thought you’d been to these sort of things before?” Callem asked.

“I have, but when I’d go to the other ones, I was with Dr. Sladek or with a group of students, people I knew who could shield me or deflect.  I’ve never gone alone.  I didn’t know so many people knew about me, either.  Dr. Sladek must mention me more than I thought.”

“That would mean he thinks highly of you, wouldn’t you say?”

I shrugged.  “I suppose, but just because he mentions me to his colleagues, that doesn’t mean it’s always a positive conversation.”

Callem turned his head sideways slightly.  “That’s a cheery outlook you have there,” he noted.

I smirked with a sigh, shaking my head.  “I know, I know.  After a lifetime of being held back, even with my accelerated lifestyle, I supposed I’ve been conditioned to assume it’s my destiny to be cast in only one light.  I’m doomed to be seen as a child playing doctor.”

“You’d think the stereotype would diminish with time.  Experience; tenure cures everything.”

I nodded.  “It’s getting to that point and my patience has been tested on the journey to tenure.  I mean, you started young in your business with your father, didn’t you?  Wasn’t that a roadblock for you, too?”

Before Callem could answer, Rafe had returned to take our order.  I went with the fettuccini alfredo and Callem got seafood alfredo.  “You know,” Callem started, picking up where we’d been interrupted.  “I don’t think it was people’s trust in me because of my age.  I think it had more to do with who my father was.  It was a double-edged sword.  Some guys had respect for me because they knew I was getting first-hand knowledge from my father, so what I knew came from him.  Others saw me as the snot-nosed son of the boss who didn’t really want to be there; was only there because it was expected of me and maybe didn’t take it as seriously as my father did.  You just have to prove to everyone what you stand for and what you’re working for.  What’s your paradigm?”

“My paradigm?”

“Yeah, what’s your driving force?  What’s your ‘why’?  Why do you do everything you do?  For me, at this point in my life, I feel like every day I’m preparing for a life I’ll eventually have.  Everything I have, everything I’ve built, everything I’m working for is a future with a family and stability and security.  I’m building an empire, for lack of a better word, meant for people, a wife and children, that I have yet to meet.”

“Wow,” I managed.  “That’s deep.  How long was it before you realized that was your ‘why’?”

Callem shrugged.  “I guess I never laid it out like that before.  I’ve never really explained it to anyone like that before.  I remember asking myself that question when I bought my first house.  I had the company and I had all this money and this big empty house and I asked myself what I was doing.  I don’t know if I decided that this was the path I wanted to go down or if the path chose me.  Either way, I knew I was just preparing myself for a life I wanted to share with someone else.  I don’t know.  Does that make sense?”

I nodded quickly.  “Absolutely.  That makes perfect sense.  You can’t really go any further with that dream until the someone you’ve been waiting for walks into your life, so it’s all about preparation until then.  I get it.”

Callem nodded slowly.  “What about you?  Why do you do what you do?”

I pursed my lips and shrugged my shoulders.  “I don’t know.  You’d think with a question like that, it would be relatively easy to conjure up an answer, but I’m drawing an absolute blank.  When I was younger and people asked me that, I probably said something like I want to save lives.  I want to help people.  I don’t feel like that answer is good enough anymore.  Shouldn’t there be something more?  Shouldn’t I have an answer like yours?”

Callem shook his head.  “Olivia, you’re twenty-one years old.  I didn’t know which way was up when I was twenty-one and that’s why I joined the army.  Even if you did know what you were working for, it doesn’t mean its set in stone.  It can be changed.  There’s no shame in not knowing at this point in your life.”

Rafe came by and refilled my merlot.  I took another sip as soon as he left.

“I hope I didn’t offend you,” Callem said, after I’d given him no response.

“Oh, no.  No.  Not at all.  I don’t usually talk candidly like this.  Maybe just with Erin, but she and I are the same age.  The only future she thinks about is what she’s going to be doing that weekend.  Erin and I live in two completely different worlds and sometimes I forget to talk about my big girl problems.  This conversation is actually quite refreshing.  I’m not talking about blood cell counts or MRI results or even about Erin’s newest fling.  I’m talking about me.  I should do this more often.  It’s very educational.”

Callem smiled.  “I’m sure it is.  We’re both doing something we don’t normally do tonight.  I don’t usually have dinner with clients.”

“You know, speaking of clients, I wish you wouldn’t see me as that,” I started.  “I feel like we met on slightly casual circumstances and we’ve had dinner with each other before.  I didn’t ask for your services this weekend because we’re professional acquaintances.  I asked because we know each other better than that, I think, at least a little better than just a client and service provider.  You don’t have to treat me like one of your clients.  Just treat me like Olivia.  Loosen the tie, crack a joke or two, and save the formalities for your next client.  Don’t waste them on me.”

Our gazes connected for far too long.  Thankfully, Rafe intervened again, presenting the two of us with steaming dishes of food that enticed the senses. 

After dinner, Callem drove me back to the hotel and bid me farewell, until tomorrow.  Once again, I was left unsatisfied and utterly alone.  I was beginning to wonder when I’d buck up and do something about it.