One Look At You (21 page)

“I know! Should we say anything to them?”

I’m silent for a while. “No. Just let them tell us when they’re ready. If they’re really together, this is a special time for them. We should just let them be. Anyway, they’ll have to tell us one day.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Jen agrees, though she sounds disappointed. Then she asks, “What about you? What happened when you got to the office this morning?”

“Business as usual.”

“What does that mean? You never had a chance to talk?”

“Not really. Too busy with work. Plus, he came in later than usual.”

“Not even a kiss?”

“Nope.”

“A look?”

“Sorry, no.” I feel guilty lying to Jen, but I don’t want her to be all ‘poor baby’. I’ll tell her when the tears are over. “Uhm, Jen, I gotta go. I do need to go back to work,” I cut off the conversation to avoid telling more lies.

“See you at dinner then. Let’s talk about Mark and Melanie some more,” she says before hanging up.

I start walking back, reluctant to see how things will unfold further, but I do need to work so there’s no way out. As I turn around the corner I see Tony getting into his town car. I childishly move back so he won’t see me. If I can help it, I’d rather not talk to him just yet.

When I reach the office, I see an email from Tony. “I have to fly to Brazil to see my mother. Please cancel or reschedule all my appointments. I’ll be back on Friday. We’ll talk then.” I find myself feeling a little bit more light-hearted at the thought that he’ll be gone the next few days. I briefly wonder, though, why he needs to see his mother.

Free from distractions and my own negative thinking, I focus on the tasks I neglected this morning. Work is exactly what I need right now.

I go home late. I carefully let myself into the apartment because I don’t really feel like talking to Jen tonight. She means well, but she’ll want to talk about A – my short-lived affair with Tony, and B – Mel and Mark’s hook-up. Obviously, I can’t let her know how brutal my day was, and talking about someone else’s romantic relationship will just bring me down further.

I didn’t respond to Tony’s email this morning but, to be honest, I did keep on checking my inbox just in case he sent another message. Nothing. Tonight I turn on my laptop and check again. I’m pathetic. I say I’m a big girl, but I’m still secretly keeping my fingers crossed that somehow he’ll want to be with me. As I said, I’m pathetic.

I speed dial the one person whose voice I’d like to hear.

“Honey, I’m so glad you called. How are you?”

“I’m okay, Mom.” There’s a forced brightness in my tone, but I don’t think she’s buying it.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound like your usual self.”

“Could be better, I guess.” There’s no fooling her.

“Coming down with something?”

“Perhaps. How was your weekend?”

“Went shopping with Murphy. Bought a couple of outfits.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you. It would have been fun.”

“There’ll be other times.”

“Who’s Murphy?”

“She’s the new manager of the pizza place next to where I work. She’s nice.”

“I’m glad you have a new friend.”

“Liv, what’s wrong”
Yeah, there’s no fooling her.

“Nothing. I’m okay.”

“Alright, Honey, when you’re ready to talk, I’m always here.”

“I know, Mom.” I’m close to tearing up. Hearing her voice full of love and concern makes me want to break down and just tell her everything.

“Liv, you are stronger than you think. We all are.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to think that way,” my voice breaks.

“Not just sometimes. It’s hard every single time.”

I sigh deeply.

“Livie?”

“I’m here, Mom.”

“If you have some time this weekend, we can spend the night in Orange County and then come back.”

“Sure, Mom. I’ll see you Friday night… I love you, Mom.”

“I love you more.”

The next three days are regular, humdrum days. It’s as if my old, tedious life is back and my one weekend of excitement never took place. I still am in the habit of checking my inbox for his messages, even though I know it’s an exercise in futility. Habits die hard. Many times, I’m tempted to google his mother’s name for news of any kind but I stop myself. I’d rather not know, because look where Pandora’s curiosity got her.

My intercom rings. “Hi, Cassie. How may I help you?”

“Why so formal, Liv?”

“Sorry. Just on auto-pilot. What’s up?”

“I have great news. We’re done with the background check on the top three candidates. I’ve also arranged for interviews, middle of next week. Next Wednesday open?”

“You could have asked me first, you know,” I snap.

“Geez. And here I was thinking you’d be bowing before me in gratitude.”

“Sorry, Cassie.”
Why am I taking it out on her
? “The thing is, I do have an open Wednesday, but until he gets back, I can’t confirm.”

“Fair enough. They’re the recruits. They’ll just have to adjust their schedules, if necessary.”

“Okay.” I’m about to hang up, and then I figure that, since I’m being churlish, I should at least say my thanks. “And Cassie?”

“Yes?”

“I am grateful. Thanks so much.”

“Anytime, friend.”

I’m thinking that now would be a good time for Tony to call. I can talk to him about the interviews and, by next week, my time at this desk will be over. I can resume my ‘old’ life with dear John or, maybe, even go job hunting. It’s looking more and more like a change in employment will be necessary.
Who are you kidding?
The only way to survive this is to work somewhere else. I swallow the lump that lingers in my throat when I think about leaving Gallo’s after three long years.

It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m rushing the last of my weekly reports so I can be with my mom. My cell phone rings. I decide to let it go to voicemail. I’ll just call whoever it is later. The ringing stops. After five minutes, it rings again. This time, I look at the screen and all it shows is ‘private.’

“Hello,” I say tentatively since I don’t know who’s on the other line.

“Livie,” his deep masculine voice is soft.

“Tony?”

“Liv, can you hear me well?”

“Not really. Can you speak a little louder?”

“I’m sorry. I’m at the hospital and the reception is bad.”

“Hospital?” I try not to sound distressed, but my heart is beating faster.

“It’s my mother. She collapsed on the set of her latest film. That’s why I flew out here but, even after so many tests, the doctors still don’t know what’s wrong. I’m staying longer, possibly until the end of next week.”

“Of course.”

“Can you please make my apologies to whoever has an appointment with me next week? I know I have quite a few.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.” Out of nowhere, I say, “How are you holding up?”

“It’s a nightmare not knowing.” After some silence, he says, “Liv?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t call just because of the schedule. That’s the least of my worries. I want to talk to you, but now really isn’t a good time. And it’s not the way I want to do it. I hope you understand.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Tony. Just be there for your mom.”

“Livie…”

“I gotta go. I’m finishing up on some stuff and my Mom’s waiting for me to pick her up.” I’m talking fast. I don’t want to give him a chance to say anything else.

“I’ll fly back when I’m able to. In the meantime, hold the fort.”

“You know I will. Bye.”
You are stronger than you think
. With the greatest of efforts, I go back to my report.

Mom and I traveled Friday night and stayed at our favorite motel in Newport Beach. Saturday morning was spent at our favorite donut shop and followed by some window shopping at the South Coast Mall, and dinner at the local steakhouse. When I’m with my mom, my troubles cease to exist. I never even had time to think about Tony. We filled up our weekend with so much talk and activity that I went to bed exhausted, but happy and content.

And now it’s Monday again. Tony’s absence is a blessing in disguise. I can give my complete attention to the hundred and one details coming up this week. The Masquerade Ball is next week and the entire office is in turmoil. My inbox is overflowing with email. The fax machines are printing non-stop. Ticket holders are calling for special favors. I’m getting calls left and right to settle contentious matters. It’s literally pandemonium.

My phone rings for the umpteenth time.

“Liv? Did you get a chance to ask Tony about the interviews?”

“Yeah. I forgot to tell you that he won’t be back this week. Sorry.”

“I guess next, next week then?”

“Most likely.”

“Okay. By the way, Liv, can you possibly reassign me to another committee?”

“Seriously? No can do.”

“Fine. Just thought you’d be distracted enough to say yes.” With a giggle, she hangs up.

Hours later, I’m feeling both grumpy and hungry. When my cell phone rings, I just go “What?”

“Livie, what’s wrong?” It’s Jen. I swear, if she’s going to be difficult, I may just scream at her.

“Don’t mind me. Phone calls and emails non-stop.”

“Why? Did anything happen? We’re like two ships passing in the night. I don’t know anymore what’s going on with you.”

“If you must know, the Masquerade Ball is next weekend and last minute issues are cropping up.”

“Sorry. I guess you’re the go-to person right now, huh?’

“Yup. It’s a Monday. Hopefully, things will calm down in the next few days.”

“Oh God, this reminds me, you haven’t bought your gown. Remember, you promised to take me and Mel with you when you go shopping.”

“Do I really have to?”

“Yes, you do, and please don’t mention your black gown again.”

“Saturday afternoon?” I really don’t feel like buying anything. What’s the point when I’m just manning the welcome table?

“Yehey! Maybe we can get Mel to confess.”

“Oh no, no, no, no. You’re not gonna use this shopping as an excuse to fish for information.”

“Alright. Just a pleasant shopping expedition then.”

“Good. Now, I have to go.”

“‘Kay. See you later.”

Every day of this week, I’ve been putting out fires. On Monday, I received at least fifty requests for so-called small favors. On Tuesday, the featured chef’s restaurant called to say that the veal supplier couldn’t come up with the order and so they had to import from Europe. The shipment is arriving only a few days before the thirteenth. On Wednesday, the florist from the Netherlands wanted to switch the colors of the tulips for some minor reason. Thursday, Dan was asking for additional tickets, and when I couldn’t give in to his request, Kayla, his assistant, threw a fit. Friday, yesterday, was like Groundhog Day. Similar problems. Different characters.

Not one call or email from Tony. I hope his mother is better, but I’m quite thankful he’s far away.

I am now actually looking forward to going shopping with Melanie and Jen. At least they have nothing to do with the office or the ball or the troublesome people I’ve been dealing with lately. Jen finds a convenient parking spot next to the entrance door of the mall. We all get down and start walking towards the boutique.

“I’m so happy you changed your mind about shopping at the Fashion District,” Jen says.

“Ugh. It would have been just awful making our way around those little shops in this heat,” Mel agrees.

“You just caught me at a good time with your badgering.”

“Is the ball getting to be a big pain in the you-know-what?” Jen smilingly asks.

I nod and their laughter is a full-hearted sound.

“Is this the boutique?” I ask when we come to a halt in front of one of the shops. “Isn’t it too expensive?”

“Relax. Most of their items are reasonably-priced,” Mel says with a wink, and I’m not sure if she’s trying to warn or reassure me.

We go inside and I am immediately intimidated by the clean, spare look of the store. The tiles are an immaculate white. The walls are wall-papered with a subdued pattern in light taupe. Gowns are arranged by color on both sides. A tall, beautiful woman dressed in a crocheted maxi dress welcomes us as we enter. I look nervously at Mel but, as usual, she’s oblivious to my discomfort, and simply grabs my hand so we can start at the very end of the rack.

Jen takes out a beautiful red lace gown and puts it on her frame so I can see what it really looks like. I shake my head, thinking I can never carry off the boldness of the color. Mel shows me an elegant white shift with sequins on the bodice. I say no. The glitter is a bit much. They show me about five or six more gowns, but I pass on all of them.

“Livie, those are beautiful. Why don’t you at least try one or two of them?” Mel sounds exasperated.

“Because they’re not right for me.”

“For real? This is not a time to dwell on your insecurities.” Mel tries hard to bamboozle me, but I don’t give in.

“No. I’ll know when I see it.”

I walk toward the exit when something catches my eye. I take out the gown from the rack. It’s a light gray tulle gown with stunning floral embroidery all over it. The neckline is cut low, and a thin fuchsia ribbon accents the waistline. The sleeves are long and gossamer. The back is entirely exposed, but the gown has an ethereal, bohemian feel to it that I instantly fall in love with. I look at them both and their jaws drop at the sight of the dress.

“Yes!” they simultaneously say.

I excitedly go to the dressing room to put it on. I draw the curtain then, and ask, “Well?”

“You’d be crazy not to buy it,” Jen says.

“Oh God! I didn’t even look at the price tag.” I search the side for the tag and my eyes grow round as I see the number. The dress is nine hundred dollars. “I can’t buy this!” I say to no one in particular.

“Yes, you can,” Mel says in her bossy tone. “You’re gorgeous. It’s made for you.”

“I’m not gonna spend that much on something I’ll wear only once,” I argue.

Mel looks extremely vexed and just turns around. Jen follows her. I feel bad that I’ve sort of let them down, but I won’t forgive myself if I indulge in this extravagance. So I look one more time at the mirror, and carefully take off the garment and put it back on the hanger.