Page 14

Mitch

I t was over. He was going to the office to clean up his desk, even though he still didn’t know if there was anything worth it to go in for. Well, he’d like to get the Mont Blanc pen Victoria gave him years ago when he started the job.

Lily’s engagement ring was in his pocket.

Why? He didn’t know. Maybe he’d give it to her father to give back to her.

Mitch didn’t want it. He thought it wasn’t just big, but it was gaudy.

Maybe Lily could sell it and buy something for herself, like a watch.

Something she could look at every day and remember what an ass Mitch was and what he’d done to her.

Yeah, maybe she could just donate the money.

She’d like the recognition she’d get from things like that.

He had to warn Rebecca. Lucien might fire her, too. He was stupid if he did. She was excelling. Mitch had expected no less of his Bex.

The scene with Lily could’ve been worse. They could have been married with children, and he could have cheated. Lily could have been pregnant. That would be worse. Yeah. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t getting Man of the Year anytime soon. This behavior was not a good look for him.

He sat in the back of a cab he’d hailed in front of his flat and looked at the rain while the cab driver vaped.

They weren’t moving. They would be stuck in this traffic, him in this muggy, smoke-filled cab for hours.

He was going to be late for work, but he was in no rush to get there.

Yet he felt pretty good. Last night he’d taken a big step that had changed the course of his life forever. Below the guilt was a sense of relief.

He did it for himself. His happiness. He did it to be with Rebecca, but he wasn’t even sure she would want to be with him. Yet he was sitting in the back of a damn cab a continent away. Why? Why was he here when he should be with her, discussing what he hoped would be their future?

Mitch unfastened his seatbelt and tapped on the glass that separated him from the driver but did little to protect the passenger from the smoke.

“New destination. Could you please take me to Heathrow?”

“Heathrow Airport?” the man asked as if he hadn’t heard Mitch the first time.

“Yes, I’d like to go to the airport, please.”

“That will take an hour,” the man announced. “Cash or credit?”

Mitch held up three fifty-pound notes and said, “Cash,” which unlocked a certain joviality in the driver, who replied an enthusiastic, “All right, sir.”

“I’ll tell you which airline in the next few minutes.” He had never been so thankful as he was at that moment that in his briefcase he had his passport, which was with him due to a trip to Paris earlier in the week.

Mitch leaned back in his seat—self-consciously touching the sore spot on his forehead where the thrown ring had gotten him—and started checking for the next airplane to New York.

There was one, Virgin Atlantic, leaving in three and a half hours.

It arrived in New York at four-thirty that afternoon, and they had a seat available in first class.

He swallowed at the price, typed in his credit card, and secured the seat. They sent him an e-ticket to his phone.

He said to the taxi driver, “I’m flying on Virgin Atlantic going to New York.”

“Coach or first class?”

Still wincing at the price, Mitch said, “First class.”

“Well, I know some time-saving things to do at Heathrow.”

When they got to the airport, his driver went around to the back of Terminal 3, where they drove up to a private Virgin Atlantic / Delta entrance.

Mitch added Lily’s engagement ring to one of the inside pockets of the briefcase.

Then he handed the driver his briefcase after he removed the passport and the rest of his personal items, all of which happened to fit in his trouser pocket.

He handed his driver another two hundred pounds and asked him to deliver the briefcase to his personal office at Donovan Security.

Ten minutes later, Mitch had cleared security, had a paper boarding pass, and was walking through the duty-free mall on his way to the Virgin lounge. He realized he needed to pick up a few things so Rebecca wouldn’t think he was a bum.

He purchased a carry-on and a small toiletry bag in the duty-free mall.

He then purchased a comb, toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, deodorant, disposable razor, and shaving cream.

At one of the perfume shops, he bought his cologne and a bottle of Bulgari perfume he thought Rebecca might like.

It was dark and sexy, just like her. He put them all in the toiletry bag.

Then he bought a couple of paperbacks and a charger for his cellphone that would work in America.

He even bought a few pairs of underwear and socks, two shirts, a lightweight cashmere sweater, and a couple pair of designer jeans that were completely overpriced.

Who needed to pack when you had a credit card?

He had stockpiled money for a rainy day. Well, it was storming in his world.

He sat in the Virgin lounge and tried not to freak out.

He took a long sip of his screwdriver. He didn’t know why he’d ordered the drink, but it sentimentally reminded him of another time when he was nervous and excited in a hotel room at Times Square in New York.

Mitch then sent an email to Lucien that he was taking a week off starting today for a personal emergency.

Then he sent a text to Rebecca.

No matter what you hear, please stay in NYC until you hear from me. I need to talk to you, Bex.

It was about four in the morning in New York, but it couldn’t be helped.

She replied immediately:

What is going on? Are you okay?

He replied:

I’m sorry it is so early. I’ll explain everything later today. I’m flying to NY. I love you.

His phone started to vibrate. He almost let her go to voicemail, but he wanted to hear her voice. When she hung up on him two days earlier, it had been a gut punch.

“Mitch? Are you okay?” Rebecca asked. He could hear the sleep in her voice.

“I’m great. I think I’m better than I’ve been in years. And I love you. I. Love. You.”

There was a pause as his words registered, then, “Mitch, honey, you are scaring me. Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breaking. “I love you. You know that. I’m totally, completely in love with you.”

They called his flight.

“I needed to hear that. You might want to call in sick today. I’ll explain everything tonight. I’m coming to see you. I’m flying to New York,” he said. “They are calling my plane now.”

“Good,” she said.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said and ended the call.

As he waited in his large seat on the airplane, he sent a text to the Donovan Security’s HR manager.

Rebecca Stark’s home address, please.

***Rebecca***

Rebecca sat up in bed, tears streaming down her face, sweet tears. Had she just had a dream? Had she called Mitch? It was almost seven in the morning. She looked at her phone: I love you.

He loved her.

He loved her.

She tried to call him back, but her call went to voicemail. Because he was flying to see her…

You might want to call in sick today. I’ll explain everything tonight. I’m coming to see you… I’m flying to New York.

He’d said that. Yes, he had. He was coming.

She looked down at her pajamas and over to the rumpled bed. It took only a few seconds for her brain to connect the dots. She picked up her phone and left a voicemail for Bruce.

“I wasn’t feeling well after I went to the gym last night, and it is worse this morning. I think I have the flu,” she said flatly. “I’ll check email and keep studying, but I’d better not come into the office.”

She called Mitch’s phone again, but it went to voicemail. “I took a chance and told the office I have the flu. I don’t. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come to you, or you can come here. Do you have my address? I’ll text it to you. I love you, Mitch.”

Rebecca didn’t poach. Mitch knew that she would never get close to another woman’s fiancé, but she had a feeling something had changed.

She checked Facebook, where she had a recent habit of stalking Lily Donovan.

Lily had deleted all of Mitch’s photos, and her status was single.

Something had happened. Up until two days ago, he was all over her Facebook page. It was kind of sickening.

Her mother, Victoria, would have said that the other shoe had dropped. She could live with that.

Rebecca cleaned her apartment and went shopping for all the food she knew people liked to have on hand: eggs, bacon, bagels, champagne, orange juice, cheese, crackers, potato chips, coffee, chocolate, and ice cream.

She wasn’t thinking very logically, or she would have picked something up for dinner.

She shaved her legs carefully. She bought candles. She took a cab to Saks Fifth Avenue and bought lingerie. Silky, lacy things she had seen in the windows but always walked by until today. Everything was either red, emerald, or black.

By four, she was showered and dressed in a skirt and blouse, waiting for the unknown.

She didn’t know what she should be waiting for, so she felt edgy.

Was he coming? Had she misunderstood? What if he was coming to tell her that although he loved her, he was still marrying someone else?

Maybe he just wanted one last fling with her to get her out of his system.

Until he told her what he had to say, speculation could only upset her.

She checked her internet for flights from Heathrow to London. She knew how long it took to fly from Heathrow to New York. Damn it. She tried his cellphone, and it went to voicemail again.

By four, she was pacing.

If she kept this up, she’d need another shower.

Her cell buzzed at 4:45, and she almost had to peel herself off the ceiling. Mitch.

“Mitch,” she answered.

“I just landed at JFK. Should I go to my hotel? I have a room at Stark International New York?—”

“Cancel the room and come here,” she ordered. “On second thought, don’t pause to cancel the room. I’ll take care of it.”

“I want to shower, shave, and change. I look rumpled.”

“I like you looking rumpled, and I have a shower. Mom bought me these wonderful towels…I’m rambling. Do you know where I am?”

“HR gave me this address for you, and I have your text.” He rattled off an address.

She said, “That is it. I’m here, and I’m waiting for you.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I think it is rush hour.”

“It is, but I’m here waiting for you.”

“Good,” he said.

One hour and twenty-three minutes later, he buzzed her from the lobby of her building. She let him in and waited.

She heard the elevator doors open around the corner from where she stood at the open door to her apartment. And then he was there, looking tired but excited. He wore a suit he had worn on the airplane and carried a small suitcase, which he dropped when she jumped into his arms.