That day hadn't come. Far from it. The sadness he felt wasn't failure, or at least nothing he could view as a failure. The truth was that he had no idea what had happened, what had gone wrong, and that was the tragedy. He'd met a kindred spirit, a soul mate who shared his spirit. She was so much his complement. People spoke often of their other half or better half, and while he didn't think of her as better or half of anything, he'd immediately felt she was the female that corresponded perfectly to his maleness. They fit together perfectly yet came from different backgrounds, different cultures. When they met, when they were together, it was as if his horizons had suddenly expanded. His life was joyous before he met her, and she showed him that there were things he'd never dreamed of, and it had seemed she felt the same about his world.
It was a brief interlude that was supposed to become more. That time in Switzerland had been a taste, a sample of what lay in store for them. He'd even said so, and she'd agreed. They'd talked about working together on fantastic new projects, of living in new places, of intertwining their lives. He'd dreamed that intertwining would go on forever. After meeting her, after touching her soft skin, staring into those deep brown eyes, making insanely passionate love to her, feeling her supple brown body entangled in his, having her passion mingling with his, he'd thought she meant forever too. But after he'd left, with both of them joyfully promising they'd be together soon, he never heard from her again. He only even heard about her briefly.
He'd scoured the business pages for word of her doings. He knew she'd consulted on a restoration project in Prague and never contacted him. Finally she had disappeared, or seemed to.
Any number of things could make a person do that. Once or twice Julio had thought of doing that himself. The idea of closing his apartment and office and going off to a tropical island, leaving no forwarding address, no contact information, sounded like the height of self-indulgence. A time like that could be restorative, give your brain the time and opportunity to get out of the routines and rituals it was prone to fall into; he could let new and dramatically different surroundings reshape his thinking. It could let him set new goals and find exciting new pathways towards them.
Willa's private investigators reported that she'd turned over the reins of her business to her number two and dropped out of sight. She wasn't attending conferences or consulting on major projects, yet that was her life, who she was. The New York public records didn't list her death, so it was as if she'd retired and gone into seclusion.
But why hadn't she contacted him? Even to say there were problems and ask for his help and support? Even if it was just to say that the moments they had together in Switzerland had left her angry, or fearful of losing herself? That knowledge would be a balm on his spirit. Whatever had kept her from wanting to move ahead with him, with what had seemed so powerful, magical, and beautiful … he could respect her choice. He just wanted to know what it was, that a decision was reached. The vacuum of silence bothered him. It didn't seem like the woman he had known and loved so intensely.
As a practical man, Julio didn't expect anyone to live in dreams, but throwing a dream away without any discussion horrified him, made no sense. He couldn't see Lissa as a hysterical or fanciful person. He'd thought she was the same kind of dreamer he was-a person who enjoyed a dream and then set out to find out how much of the dream could be attained, could be made real if you were willing to struggle for it. Dreams were to be considered, not abandoned without a thought.
That was the way he understood things, the way he did them.
He had to consider the possibility that he'd been wrong about her. Totally and completely. That made him sad. For once he thought he'd found someone special-he'd never met anyone like her before. If she wasn't the person he thought she was, then perhaps he was foolish to think he'd ever meet a woman who would or could be his perfect love.
That thought pained him. It meant settling for sex and companionship and forgoing the hope of actual love as he understood it. He could accept that, not be happy about it, but accept that as a possibility. Unfortunately, most people settled for what came easily, and someone who understood the difference between his ambition and greed, someone who celebrated life the way he did, was a rare find. What truly troubled him was the idea that he had been so wrong about her. Where had he gone wrong? A great part of his success came from assessing people, judging their strengths and weaknesses. The woman he'd known so briefly hadn't seem at all like the kind to cut and run without a word. If he'd been so wrong, it was his failure, not hers. That was on him, and he didn't like doubting his own judgment.
The door opened and Willa came in. He gave her an appreciative glance. She was an interesting contrast to the ideal he'd allowed himself to build Lissa up to in his mind. Willa was more what he considered the high end of the rest of womankind-the best of the rest.
The slender, petite German had good instincts. She'd accepted his morning ritual easily, seeming to understand that he was happy for her to come in at this time, but she wasn't to speak until he greeted her, letting her know he was ready to put his brain into the business gear, and that for the moment he was in his own space and time. He'd mentioned that to her only once and from then on, she came in with her own coffee and her inevitable paperwork, to sit on his leather couch, crossing her lovely legs and waiting quietly. Her predictability was a comfort, and at the moment made him think more affectionately towards her than he felt towards Lissa.
Willa had made herself an important part of his life, his business world. Her disciplined and competent mind let her organize and facilitate his daily work. She knew how to ask questions and then could add her own insights to whatever task was at hand. She was an attractive blonde who hadn't pushed herself at him the way some assistants had. He was drawn to her, and acutely aware that the attraction was both sexual and because of their shared experience. She was someone he had let get close. She was a dedicated worker who never complained about overtime-even seemed to enjoy it-and was ready to travel for business at a moment's notice. As far as he could tell, she had no personal life. She'd never mentioned a boyfriend or even family to him. They were joined together by work.
He sensed that she was more ambitious than she liked to show. Every so often she appeared to be frustrated that she was executing his orders and not giving them herself. He wasn't afraid of employees being ambitious. It often meant they were better workers, but one day it could become an issue. If she wanted more than he thought she was ready to take on, problems could arise. She was great at what she did, but he wondered if she would be a good leader.
With these thoughts forcing his self-pitying concerns to the back burner, he was ready to face the day.
"Good morning," he said, swiveling his chair to face her and letting the sun warm his back. She sipped her coffee and nodded, an intelligent, alert, but enigmatic smile forming on her face. It wasn't an unusual look for her, and it always made him think she was operating with some master plan that one day would be clear to him. For now he allowed himself to enjoy the mystery. His work had taught him that he could never understand or control everything in his world, so he learned to enjoy the pleasure of discovery. That made it possible to find excitement even in setbacks-something unknown or uncertain finally was revealed, another piece of life's puzzle was known. The unknown quantity was to be appreciated.
"You asked to be told if I was able to learn anything about Lissa Edwards."
His heart raced, irritating him. He didn't want the mention of her name to excite him, but he couldn't deny he still craved her. "And?"
"She is in a hospital in New York."
It struck him like a blow. "Really? What happened?"
"I don't know the truth of things-the investigator confirmed just that much. Are you interested in the gossip?"
He didn't want to be, but a knotting of his stomach let him know that he couldn't ignore it. "Tell me," he said.
"The story going around New York is that she was in rehab for a drug problem and recently released. She was checked into a private room in the hospital, but of course the doctors aren't talking."
"Drugs?"
"I don't know. It's just gossip. The detective in New York did confirm that someone named Joan Edwards was recently released. He discovered she has a sister by that name."
"Of course, if she wanted privacy … "
"Personally, I wouldn't use the name of a relative."
"Who knows what people do or why they do it? But did she register at the hospital under her own name?"
Willa put down her coffee cup. "Indeed."
"The detective … "
"I instructed him to find out why she's in the hospital and to see if he can learn anything more about the rumor. If she had a drug problem, it could be anything from having damaged her body with them to an attempted suicide. If she didn't have a drug problem … it could be anything at all."
"I suppose."
She tapped the stack of folders. "And this morning, we have a lot of information to go through if you intend to meet with all the people you are considering for the project."