“I’m sorry, but Mr. Blackmon doesn’t use voice mail. I’ll be happy to convey your message, however.”
“Yes, fine. Please tell him that Ariel Strong called and—”
“Ariel Strong? Please excuse me for interrupting but Mr. Blackmon left instructions that your calls be put right through to him. The problem is he’s really not here now; he’s in a conference meeting with international associates. What I can do is give him the message as soon as he checks in. Can he reach you at this number?”
“Uh,” I stammer, feeling self-conscious at the change in her tone, from cool and professional to obsequious. “I’ll be on a plane in a couple of hours so I won’t be able to take any calls. Please tell Ia… uh, Mr. Blackmon that he can send a text with a contact number and I will get back to him as soon as my plane lands.”
“I’ll tell him, Ms. Strong.”
“Okay, thanks.”
My cell chimes with a message as soon as I am seated on the plane. It’s Ian, asking me to call him on his cell as soon as I get his message. We have a few minutes before takeoff so I call him now.
“Ariel. Where are you?” His voice is low and tinged with emotion. Is it anger?
“I just boarded a flight to New York. I received a call early this morning about meeting with someone for a job that sounds pretty perfect for me. He’s leaving for Paris tomorrow so he asked me to come to New York right away to meet with him. I’m really sorry to cancel our plans at the last minute, Ian.”
“I’m sorry, too. Who is this person with whom you’re meeting?”
“A documentary filmmaker. His name is Lucien Phillips and my friend Lara recommended me to him. I can come back to Portland directly after I meet up with him and still spend Sunday with you.”
“That’s unnecessary, Ella. You’ll be exhausted if you do that. Didn’t you say you had business in New York anyway?”
“Yes, I was planning on visiting in a few weeks. I guess the sensible thing to do is just stay and get it all done this trip.” I pause, wondering if I should even mention my idea. Oh, what the hell? “I don’t suppose it’s possible for you to come to New York too?”
He’s silent long enough that I think the call’s been dropped but then I hear background voices on the other end. “No, that won’t be possible, not this week, Ella. Perhaps we can reschedule for next weekend?”
I try not to laugh at his use of the word reschedule, as if I’m a business appointment. “Definitely,” I say.
“Oh, wait. I just remembered I’m going to be out of the country next weekend. Why don’t we play it by ear for now? Call me when you get back to Portland.”
“Will do. Oh, and Ian? I just want to tell you I received all of the gifts you sent and I very much appreciated them. I was so looking forward to this weekend and I’m really disappointed.”
“As am I… and you’re welcome, Ella. I hope you have a good trip and I’ll speak to you soon.”
I disconnect, feeling depressed. If it weren’t for this last-minute trip, I’d be getting ready to spend my weekend with Ian and now I don’t know when I’ll see him again. I’m beginning to regret not telling Lucien I couldn’t make it. I shut off my phone and put my iPod headphones on, cranking up the music to take myself out of my head for a while. I already miss him so much and it’s only been a week. God, but I’m pathetic and stupid.
Chapter 13
Fuck!!!!! The urge to send something breakable sailing across his office is nearly irresistible. This past week had shaped up to be one of the suckiest in recent memory. The only thing that had gotten him through it was the prospect of spending the weekend with Ella, and now she’s going out of town—to meet with a man, no less.
At least she’d invited him to accompany her. On the spur of the moment, he got an idea to surprise her there but he’d told Ella he couldn’t make it—just in case circumstances made it impossible, then he wouldn’t disappoint her.
He picks up the phone. “I need a security check. Right away. Lucien Phillips. Double ell, I think. Try it both ways. Filmmaker, New York. That’s all I have. Get back to me ASAP.”
Ian slams the receiver back down into its cradle, finding it somewhat satisfying to vent his frustration on an inanimate object. Nothing but problems this week, starting with that big loser, Solar Systems, Inc. The cash-bleeding company he’d taken on was going down in flames, despite his firm’s hemorrhaging more money into it, throwing good money after bad. The government was backtracking on tax breaks he’d been counting on—it was a big part of the impetus for giving it the green light in the first place. Now for the cherry on the cake of his day: their Japanese partners in the electronic security systems manufacturer that they finally brought back into black ink with the military contract they’d been awarded, were getting antsy over new tariff regulations that just passed Congress. He had to fly to Tokyo next weekend to placate them.