Infinite Us(73)

"Mr. Nation?"

Daisy's voice pierced through the fog surrounding me, the one that had me forgetting that I had to get ready for a second investor's meeting, this one to determine if I was smart enough and Duncan slick enough to fatten up our bank account. I only had three hours to pull it all together.

"Yeah?" My answer was sharp and fast, like Daisy had scared me awake in the middle of Mass. But I didn't go to Mass and had never been a Catholic and Daisy, with her shrill voice and expectant tone was only doing the job I paid her to do.

"Mr. Phillips asked I remind you of the lunch meeting. It's on your calendar."

"Um … hang on Daisy."

I made no commitments. Not to Willow and damn sure not to Duncan, not even with our lunch where we were supposed to go over what needed to be done before the presentation. But my thoughts weren't on the presentation or the final work that needed to be done on my code. The program was through beta testing and we had clients who were willing to test the products but there was still a lot of work to muddle through before we could go live. That would take more focus than I had, something I knew Duncan would yell at me about during this lunch meeting. But I wasn't ready.

"Daisy, tell him I'll need to reschedule."

"But, sir he said … "

"I don't care what he said." She was quiet on the other line, but then she would be. The walls were glass and Duncan was loud when we fought. It wasn't like someone walking by couldn't tell when we argued, something that had been happening a hell of a lot lately.

Daisy had seen it all. She'd even doctored my knuckle last week when Duncan pissed me off so bad that I punched my wooden desk like a total idiot. She didn't like hearing the fighting, and patching up my torn flesh when I was being a Neanderthal wasn't in her job description. Of course she'd argue about me canceling the meeting. It would only lead to drama she likely didn't need to hear. So I cut her off before she could say anything more.

"Daisy, listen … " I stood, stretching my shoulders and arms, "there's a … family situation that's come up and I'll need to cut my day short. Tell Duncan I'll be in an hour early in the morning."

She waited a half a second longer than I thought was necessary and then cleared her throat. "Yes, sir."

My office was a round, giant thing with a modest desk in the center of the room and two small sofas on each side. As programmer, I didn't do Duncan's dirty work, instead stretching out budgets and timelines until my software was perfect; until it was ready for a live date and multi-million dollar clients. But the long hours and worry and concentrating on how to finalize all the hard work I'd put in for the past ten years had become something small and distant to me since Willow had yanked me into her life. Months had gone by and everything had shifted with her open door, her wide eyes and the pull of her small fingers on my arm. She had ripped apart everything I knew, spilling open the chasm of focused peace I'd cultivated for myself with whatever game she'd played on me that first night. She'd loosened something and that something had ushered in the dreams … the memories … the past that would not leave me be.

Willow had taken off without so much as a glance over her shoulder. Like I was nothing. Like she could drop me, forget that minutes before I had been inside her, that I had made her moan and scream and laugh all at the same time. The jasmine from her hair still lingered on my pillow the morning after we'd slept together. There were a few strands of her hair on the mattress and the hem of my sheets were smudged pale pink from her lipstick. Willow had come into my apartment wanting me, taking me, letting me take her back and had left traces of herself behind. Then she'd been gone before I could stop her. She'd left and it seemed like hours afterward I could still feel her everywhere in my room.



       
         
       
        

And then … Sookie died in my dream.

There was a lot for me to mourn.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Duncan's loud question erupted as he thundered through the doorway, the brass doorknob slapping against the glass wall. It happened so quick, with such a force I was surprised the glass hadn't broken. "You cannot cancel on me. Not again."

He didn't bother to ease into this fight. Duncan had been gripping so tightly to the thin hold he had on his patience that this one canceled meeting had him losing it completely. His face was red, like he'd just contracted rosacea and hadn't bothered to treat it. Duncan's already small, beady eyes had taken on a wet, glassy look and the rims around both were blotchy and red. He looked exhausted, old and out of breath and I knew it was my fault. I had let everything in my head destroy the company we were trying to build. He took a moment to close the door, and then turned on me.