Midas Touch (8 page)

0

you did for me, earning you the right to be supported for the rest of your life?”

“I stayed home alone and waited for you to find time for me,”

Carol accused, as fake tears filled her eyes.

“You may have been home, but you certainly weren’t alone.”

“I got lonesome and made one mistake. If you came home as you should this never would have happened,” Carol sniffed.

“One mistake?” She held Carol’s gaze. “Would you like for me to name a few more of your
mistakes,
or would you prefer to spare the women in question? Trust me, Carol. If this goes to court, I won’t spare anyone.” She silently thanked Lona for the hint of Carol’s other indiscretions. She waited as Carol tried to decide if Sandra’s threats were bluffs. Sandra knew she was correct when Carol’s face grew red with anger.

“At least someone wanted me,” Carol hissed. “I knew all along you weren’t having affairs and do you know why?”

Sandra braced herself. She knew Carol was going to hit her where she would hurt the worst, her own insecurities.

“No one wanted you,” Carol taunted. “They never have and never will. Even your own mother didn’t want you.”

“Carol!” Lynda gasped.

Sandra reeled under the barrage as Carol continued. “The only thing you’ve ever been any good at is making money. You pathetic, low-bred bitch.” Carol spun on her heels and stormed out the door.

Sandra and Lynda sat in stunned silence. Each of them stared at the door Carol slammed behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Lynda finally mumbled. “She told me you were seeing other women and kicked her out with nothing.”

“Careful, counselor. That sounds like privileged client information,” Sandra whispered, willing the pain from her chest.

“Sandra, I’m really sorry. I never expected her to react this way. All those horrible things she said.”

“They’re all true,” Sandra said softly and closed her eyes, as the clamp around her chest tightened.

“Sandra, are you all right?”

Sandra opened her eyes and nodded, unable to speak around the emotional pain clogging her throat. “I’m fine.”

Lynda looked unconvinced.

“Really,” Sandra assured her, offering a weak smile. They remained silent for a long second before Lynda began to stuff the papers back into her briefcase.

“There are a couple of things she says she didn’t get,” Lynda said as she closed her briefcase.

“What things?”

“Her birth certificate and passport.”

Sandra nodded. “They are in the wall safe. I forgot them.

I’ll courier them over to you tomorrow morning.” She forced herself to stand. “I’m sorry to rush you, but I’m late for a staff meeting.”

Lynda nodded. “Tomorrow will be fine.” She closed her briefcase and stood. “I want you to know, none of this is personal.

I respect you and your commitment to the Dallas community.”

Sandra shrugged. “Tell Carol if she insists on continuing with this, I’ll see her in court.”

“Sandra, I sincerely hope it won’t come to that,” Lynda said, as she turned and walked swiftly out the door.

Sandra shifted in her chair as one after the other of her board officers droned on about budgets and deadlines. Normally she would have been interested in the reports, but the pain in her chest was making it difficult for her to breathe. She groaned inwardly when Charles Carlton stood.

“I have four layouts to present. After we chose one I’ll provide you the scheduled release dates,” he informed everyone as he placed the first board on the easel.

Shocked, Sandra could only stare. Charles was presenting the same offensive layout of the young woman wearing the tool belt.

The layout she ordered him to get rid of. She was on her feet, aware of the shocked surprise of everyone in the room.

“Charles, I specifically told you yesterday I did not want this trash used to represent any aspect of Tate Enterprises. Would

you please explain to me why I’m seeing it again?”

“Sandra, I felt you weren’t being objective. I wanted to let the board decide.”

She glanced at each of the ten members seated around the table to see if any were in collusion with Charles. From their expressions, Sandra could tell they were as stunned as she was.

She turned to Allison and saw disbelief in her eyes as well.

Sandra’s anger with Charles flamed brighter.

She stalked around the table and snatched the offensive board off the stand. She folded the board in half over her knee and dropped it into a trashcan. “I told you yesterday to have a layout I could use today.”

To her surprise, he covered the distance to the trashcan in three strides and snatched the board out.

“This is good material and you won’t even give it a chance,”

he shouted. His breath came in short hard puffs as
he attempted to smooth the creases from the board.

“It’s trash and I won’t have it,” Sandra shot back.

He poked her arm with his finger. “You’re too fucking dense to know …”

Gordon Wayne leapt from his chair so swiftly it toppled over.

“Charles!” he thundered. “In my office now!”

Charles reported to Gordon. Sandra knew she should let him handle it, but she could not get past the feeling of no longer being able to control even the smallest detail of her life. She raised her arm to stop Gordon. As she did so, her chest felt as
though it ripped open. She fell backward from the impact of the pain. Her hands clawed at her chest as she gasped for breath. She tried to stand, but was unable to get her body to respond.

Allison’s face hovered above her. She was talking to her, but Sandra was unable to hear. She tried to speak. No sound came out. She heard a voice screaming for someone to call 911. People stared down at her; their voices receded to a hollow hum as the room darkened.
I’m dying and I never got to live.

A steady series of beeps was the first thing she heard. She

opened her eyes to an array of monitors and Dr. Ida Rayburn’s calm, brown eyes. “You’re no angel, so I must be in hell,” Sandra joked weakly.

“Worse,” Ida returned, making a notation on her chart.

“You’re still alive. That means you not only get my bill, but my lecture as well. Why haven’t you been in to see me before today?

And don’t tell me the pains just started,” she ordered, pointing a short, well-manicured finger at Sandra.

“I was going to call you after the meeting.”

Ida peered at her closely. “The pain had already gotten that bad, huh?”

Sandra nodded.

“Tell me what’s been going on with you,” Ida said.

“There’s been some pain. I’ve been plagued with heartburn on and off for the last few days,” Sandra said. “Is it my heart?”

The implications of a heart attack were frightening.

Ida folded her arms. “No. You experienced a major anxiety attack.”

Sandra almost cried with relief.

“Don’t get excited too fast,” Ida scolded. “I don’t have the results from all the tests yet, but from what I’ve seen so far, you’re damn lucky it wasn’t your heart.”

Sandra felt a moment of panic slice through her. The monitor began to beep loudly.

Ida placed a hand on Sandra’s shoulder. “Relax. I don’t mean to frighten you, but it’s time you started thinking about your health. Take a deep breath.”

Sandra did as she was told.

“And another one,” Ida instructed.

Sandra continued to breathe deeply until the monitor re-sumed its steady blip.

“Now,” Ida said. “Let me explain what I suspect is going on, and then we can spend the rest of the day arguing about what you’re going to do about it.” She stopped for a moment and tapped her pen against Sandra’s chart. “This is a little unusual, but Allison Kramer is waiting outside and I’d like to call her in.”

Sandra hesitated. She failed to see the need to discuss her medical condition with Allison, but Ida would never have asked without a good reason. Sandra felt a chill run over her body. “All right. If you think there’s a need.”

Ida stepped to the door, and a moment later Allison came in.

Her eyes and nose were red from crying.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, placing her hand on Sandra’s arm.

“Fine.” Sandra’s voice betrayed her fear.

“Allison, I wanted you in here while I talked to Sandra because I think I’ll need your help to convince her of a few things.” Ida flipped open Sandra’s chart and thumbed through the pages.

“Sandra, your blood pressure is unbelievably high. I imagine part of the problem is due to all the excitement, so I’m going to have it monitored closely.” She flipped to another page. “Your initial blood work shows me you’re not eating properly. Your cholesterol is up, you’re anemic, and you appear to be physically exhausted. This has been going on for more than a few days, hasn’t it?” She fixed Sandra with an accusatory glare.

Sandra gave a guilty nod.

“What about the heartburn? She eats antacids like candy,”

Allison said.

Sandra felt betrayed by Allison’s disclosures. She frowned to show her disapproval, but Allison ignored her.

Ida moved to the side of the bed and studied the machines monitoring Sandra. “How often was the pain occurring?”

“It’s not bad.”

Ida’s stern glance stopped her. “Sandra, if you want to kill yourself, there are faster ways. Now, drop the martyr act and answer my questions.”

Sandra blushed. Avoiding Ida’s eyes, she hesitantly disclosed her symptoms.

Ida interrupted her several times to extract more details.

When Sandra had told her everything, Ida turned to Allison.

“The reason I called you in was to enlist your help in getting Sandra to take a vacation.”

Allison stepped closer to the bed. “I think its a wonderful idea. We can handle things for a few days.”

Sandra held up her hands. “Ida, after what happened today you don’t need Allison’s help. I’m more than willing to take a week or two off.”

Ida looked at her gravely. “I’m not talking about a week or two. I’m thinking three or four months.”

Sandra stared at her in disbelief. Even Allison hesitated.

“I can’t leave for three months.” Sandra tried to sit up. The beeping of the heart monitor began to race, and the tightness across her chest increased.

“Calm down or you’ll have a nurse in here reading me the riot act,” Ida admonished. She pushed Sandra gently back on the bed.”Allison, tell her,” Sandra directed.

Allison looked at Sandra and then at Ida. “Is it that serious?”

“I wouldn’t have prescribed it otherwise. She’s exhausted. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down, she’s a prime candidate for a stroke.”

“Hello,” Sandra piped in. “I’m right here, so don’t talk about me as though I’m not.”

Allison looked at her. “Dr. Rayburn’s right. The board can run Tate Enterprises for a few months.”

“Allison!”

“Damn it, Sandra. I’d rather we try to run it without you for a few months than have to bury you!” Allison shouted, and quickly looked away as the other two women stared at her in surprise.

“You know I’d never find another job that pays as well as this one does,” she teased with a small self-conscious smile.

Sandra lay stunned. How could she be away from work for three months? What would she do with herself?

She recalled lying on the boardroom floor thinking she was dying. There could be other advantages to getting away for a while. She would be able to avoid both Carol and Lona. The news about her hospitalization would spread. It would appear she was resting rather than running away. Disappearing for a few

months might be exactly what she needed.

All right,” she conceded so calmly both Ida and Allison eyed her doubtfully. “I’m serious,” she assured them. “Allison, call a board meeting tomorrow morning and announce I’m going to take an extended vacation. You are in charge.” Seeing Allison hesitate, she added. “You can handle things. You’ve worked with me long enough to know what I would or would not approve of.”

She turned to Ida and swallowed her guilt in taking the easy way out. “You happy now?” she asked.

“I think you must have hit your head when you fell,” Ida said speculatively. “I expected more of a fight from you.”

“No fight, Ida. You win.”

Ida insisted on keeping her overnight for observation. Sandra felt it prudent not to argue. They moved her to a private room, where she dozed to the monotonous beep of the heart monitor.

The faint squeak of the door hinge roused her.

“Hello,” Lona called, timidly stepping into the room.

The heart monitor’s blip increased proportionally with Sandra’s racing pulse as a wave of emotions washed over her.

“Hi,” she managed to stutter, unable to hold Lona’s gaze.

Lona stopped just inside the room. An awkward silence fell between them. The spell was broken as the door swished open and a nurse rushed in.

“Is everything all right?” she threw Lona a quick glance, turning her full attention to the protesting monitor.

“I’m sorry,” Sandra said. “I guess I sat up too quickly or something,” she finished lamely.

The nurse checked the wires leading from the monitor to Sandra’s arm.

“Take it a little easier next time,” the nurse said, patting Sandra’s arm before leaving the room.

Lona approached the bed and placed a single yellow rose on Sandra’s lap. “I didn’t know how you felt about flowers,” she stated meekly. “I, ah… damn,” she sputtered.

Sandra looked up to find tears in Lona’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d see me after last night.”

Sandra started to speak, but Lona shook her head and stopped her. “I know what happened between us wasn’t your scene, but I’ve dreamed about you for so long. When I heard Carol moved out, I told myself I was only going over to comfort you. Then you opened the door in your robe, and I couldn’t stop myself.” She pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes.