A Winter Dream(10)

As I cleared out my desk, Rupert’s secretary, Grace, delivered an envelope with my flight information, apartment lease and a severance check for three thousand dollars, presumably to help me get started. I noticed that the check was signed by Rupert, not Dan, as my paychecks were. I guessed he probably did this on his own to lessen my troubles. Or soften his guilt.

On my way out of the office I gave my sister, Diane, my office key. She was understandably confused.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Ask Simon,” I said. “He’ll be happy to tell you.”

My flight was scheduled for the next day. I drove to my apartment and packed everything I could carry in two suitcases.

There were far more details than I had time to resolve. I’d have to leave my apartment for Ben to rent out. Actually, he could just move into my apartment. He was looking for a new place and had always liked mine. He could also take my gym membership. He’d have to sell my car.

As I was making out my list, my cell phone chirped, signaling that the battery was nearly dead. I plugged in the charger, then realized the futility. I would have to get rid of it anyway. It was either that or forever ignore my mother and father’s calls. I might as well have been planning my own funeral. In a way I was. Life, as I knew it, was over.



I finished packing my bags, then drove to Ashley’s apartment for dinner. The entire drive, I puzzled over one question: How would I tell Ashley?

I had been with Ashley longer than any girlfriend I’d ever had. We’d met three years earlier at a photo shoot for a brochure I’d written. At the time, she worked as a receptionist for Uphill Down, a ski parka producer and client of ours. She was strikingly beautiful, so I wasn’t surprised when the president of the company asked her if she’d like to model some of their coats for their winter catalog.

The first time I saw her, she was wearing an all-white ski parka with matching snow pants and a white fox fur hat, all sharply in contrast to her onyx black hair, Windex blue eyes and bright, cherry red lipstick. Seeing her was practically a religious experience. The heavens parted and angels sang. It was love at first sight.

Ashley was born in Colorado and had lived in the Denver suburb of Thornton her entire life. She had graduated from CU in newspaper journalism. Unfortunately, Colorado’s newspapers were faring about as well as the rest of the country’s paper journals, and with the fall of one of Colorado’s biggest newspapers, the 150-year-old Pulitzer-winning Rocky Mountain News, she ended up first working as a waitress at an Olive Garden, then receptionist, then model. She wouldn’t be eager to move. A year earlier when I suggested she could pursue her dream of a journalism career if she applied to jobs outside of Colorado, her response was simply, “That’s not going to happen.” Now I had to tell her we were moving.



I knew Ashley well enough to know that I couldn’t tell her the real reason we had to move. She’d never understand.

And she was headstrong. I knew what she’d do with the real story—she’d go straight to my father. I had no doubt about this. Ben wasn’t a favorite of hers. She believed that he was coddled by my parents, and more than once she had expressed her opinion that he needed to suffer the consequence of his actions. I doubted that she would sacrifice living in Colorado for him.

I wasn’t even sure that she could. She was one of those people who held to justice like a life ring. It’s not that she wasn’t merciful. It’s just that her need for justice was a whole lot stronger than her desire for mercy.

On the way to her apartment I stopped to pick up some wine for dinner. We were going to need it. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration. She had even made one of my favorite dishes, spaghetti carbonara. I had been looking forward to the evening since Friday. Now I wished it were over.

Ashley smiled as I walked in. As usual, she looked stunning. Her hair was pulled back and she wore a tight black dress, her tiny waist accented with a purple sash. She met me at the door and kissed me. “How’s my conquering hero?”

I forced a smile. “Conquered.”

“Did something go wrong?”

I leaned back and looked into her face. “We’ll talk about it later.” We kissed again. “Something smells good.”

“It’s my new perfume. Dolce&Gabbana’s ‘The One.’ ”

“I meant the food. But you smell good too.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I got some of that salami you like from Giuseppe’s and, my big surprise, I made my first tiramisu.”

“Fantastico,” I said with a bad Italian accent. “I brought this.” I lifted the bottle of wine.