On the Other Side(47)
Only Wendy and Damita knew it was a lie.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Along with her cushy new position as Vice President, Damita was given a wonderfully large corner office with a view. She should have been jumping for joy. Instead, she was thinking about how best to fix the craziness that had become her life. She had everything she had ever dreamed of, but many of the wishes she had made were wrought with all sorts of twists and turns she hadn’t expected.
As she looked out over the city, pensively, her phone rang.
“Hi, Mom! You’re my first phone call in my new office! You should see it. I have an incredible view!”
“Well, I guess I could see it if someone would invite me out to lunch. I could stop by and get a gander at this unbelievable office and share a meal with my only daughter. All I need is an invite.”
Damita laughed. “I get the hint, Mom. I don’t need a rock to fall on me.”
“I was starting to think that you did. You hardly ever call anymore and when you do, you only stay on the phone for a few minutes. Lately, it seems like just about everything I know about you I find out secondhand from Carmella.”
“I worked so hard to make that deal I told you about, that I’m in burnout mode.”
“Baby, through the years I’ve seen you work just as hard and still manage to maintain relationships and get everything else done. When your father was sick, you ran back and forth with him and did all the same stuff you’re doing now, without missing a beat.”
“The difference is I wasn’t married then.”
“That’s exactly my point. When are you going to drop that dead weight? A spouse is supposed to add to your life, not subtract from it.”
“I will. I’m staying with Carmella until I can find my own place and, eventually, I will start divorce proceedings.”
“Good for you!”
“Mom, in the meantime, if Neal should contact you, would you promise me you won’t engage him in any way.”
“That boy knows better than to get in touch with me. I’ll give him a beat down like he’s never had in his life.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Sometimes you forget how old you are.”
“Age doesn’t have a thing to do with it. I refuse to let anyone bully me, including Mr. Neal Bully Westman.”
Damita chuckled. “Will you at least call me or Carmella if he does try to get in touch with you?”
“I promise I will.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Damita called the receptionist and let her know that her mother would be stopping by. She suddenly felt an uncustomary sense of calm. Despite the reputation New York City had for being an unfriendly and often unsightly city, there were moments like these when New York could feel so serene and quite beautiful. Looking down from her window on the seventy-seventh floor, she was reminded of how infinitesimal each life was compared to the world at large. Looking down, the people were like ants. She realized that in the scheme of things, each person’s struggles, wants and needs seemed incredibly small when compared to the entire planet. She had been so wrapped up in her own problems she had forgotten about what was truly important. She had forgotten how to stop and smell the roses. She couldn’t wait for her mother to arrive, so she could show her the incredible view from her much-coveted corner office. While she waited, she unpacked some of the files her assistant had not yet gotten to.
Damita was surprised to see her mother being escorted to her office by none other than Mr. Underhill himself.
“Look who I found wandering the halls,” he joked.
“Mr. Underhill, thank you so much. You remember my mother, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. We met at the wedding. She is still as much of a delight now as she was then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Underhill,” Karen said.
“Please, I feel old enough already. Call me Michael.”
“Of course, Michael, and you can call me Karen.”
“So, where are you ladies off to?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll figure something out by the time we get out of the building.”
“Something tells me Karen would like Montrachet.”
“You might be right, Mr. Underhill. My mother is a bit of a wine connoisseur.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his secretary. “Abby, would you make a reservation under my name at Montrachet? It’s for Damita and her mother. Make sure the bill is taken care of.”
“Oh, Mr. Underhill, that’s not necessary,” Damita said.
“I know it’s not necessary. I want to. If I weren’t so busy, I would join you both, but duty calls. This way, at least I’ll be there in spirit.”