Chapter Seventeen Another Piece of the Puzzle #2
Madison made her way from the ferry landing to her loft, while Olivia went on ahead to the office. Madison was greeted by the doorman of her building.
“You look quite rested, Ms. Wainwright, I have to say.”
“Thanks. I feel rather rested.”
Madison knew it was not only physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
She picked up the few packages that had been waiting in the mailroom and then headed to her apartment.
Once again, it seemed dark and uninviting, as if no one lived there, which was half true.
She left her packages and shoes at the door and took a slow walk around, peeking at objects on shelves and artwork on the walls.
Most of it could go into storage, she thought.
And should she need anything, she could go to the facility.
She was surprised at how quickly those thoughts came to her.
“I guess we’ve made up our minds, haven’t we?” she said out loud.
She decided to return the following week and do an inventory of her belongings to see what she would take to Smuggler’s Cove and what could be stashed in a POD. But for now, she had to find her outfit for tonight and check the fridge to make sure nothing was growing inside.
Satisfied that the mustard and the rest of the condiments would survive, she tossed everything else into the trash.
She flipped through the mail, blacked out her name and address on several magazines, and tossed them into the recycle bin.
Then she went through her filing cabinet, found a copy of her lease, and tucked it into her tote bag.
She’d ask Lincoln to go over the fine print.
For now, she had to get to the office, check on any of the latest gossip, have lunch with Victor—which meant more gossip—and then head back to serenity.
More importantly, she had to prepare for her dinner date tomorrow night.
When she arrived at her office, it was quiet, more so than usual for a summer Friday.
There were people around, but there was also a heaviness to the silence.
You could cut it with a knife. Madison smiled and said hello to the handful of forlorn faces.
She wondered how many of them were working on their résumés and wondered if that was something she should do.
But she decided to shrug it off. There was something in the offing.
She didn’t know what, but she knew she could survive and thrive.
She reminded herself that it wouldn’t be the first time she had to reinvent herself.
Olivia was sorting through the piles of paper on her desk when Madison approached her.
“Can you feel the tension?”
“Like a dark cloud hanging overhead,” Olivia responded. “I just saw the announcement from the CEO. I suppose I should have checked my email sooner.”
“Well, now you can be miserable like the rest of us.” Madison had to chuckle. Otherwise, she could be pulled into the doldrums with everyone else.
After she cleaned out her physical in-box, she checked her email. The CEO wanted to meet with all of the department heads on Monday. In person.
“Ugh. Buzzkill,” Madison said. “And he wants us here at nine,” she called out to Olivia.
“Yippee,” Olivia replied.
By the time Madison had gone through everything on her desk, it was almost noon. “I’m having lunch with Victor. Care to join us?”
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to hop on the one-twenty back. Lincoln can pick me up.”
“Okey dokey,” Madison answered, and gathered her belongings. “I’m going to jump on the three-something. No sense in coming back here.” Maybe ever, she thought to herself, even though she knew she would have to return on Monday.
Victor was waiting for her at the elevator bank. “Good morning, sunshine.” He hugged and air-kissed her. “Good to see you.”
“Ditto,” Madison replied. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
They entered the elevator with a few others, and all remained tight-lipped on the way down. No one spoke until they were outside of the building.
Everyone gave one another a shrug and a frown except for Madison. She wasn’t smiling, but she reminded them of the adage, “It’s not what happens to you, it’s how you handle it that matters.”
“Oh, shut it,” one of her coworkers said half-mockingly.
Madison pantomimed zipping her lips.
“How can you be in such a good mood?” Victor asked.
“Do I need to repeat what I just said?” Madison linked her arm through the crook of his.
“Please don’t. I want to wallow in my pity party, if you don’t mind.” Victor feigned arrogance.
“I do, so you will be putting lunch on your company credit card.”
“Shall we stop at Ferragamo, or Saks?” Victor teased.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Victor scanned the room to be sure no one was there who they didn’t want to see, nor anyone by whom they could be seen.
“All clear, dearie.”
They followed the ma?tre d’ to a table toward the rear of the restaurant.
“I asked for this on purpose,” Madison informed her friend.
“Brilliant.”
“That’s the second time I heard that word today.”
“Oh? When was the first?”
“When I mentioned our idea to Olivia.”
“Really? She thinks it’s brilliant?” Victor was fond of Olivia. She was always in the wings, keeping an eye out for her friend and sister-in-law. Madison considered Olivia one of her guardian angels, and Victor knew the feeling was mutual.
The two ordered Bellinis for the fun of it. “It’s not quite brunch, but it will have to do.” Victor lifted his glass of bubbling champagne and peach nectar.
They mused about what might happen to the company and chatted more about their idea.
“I think we should do it regardless of what happens.” Victor was the first to say it.
“I totally agree.” Madison lifted her glass. “So by the time they toss us to the curb, we’ll have the project up and running.”
“That means I am going to have to spend more time at your house at the shore.”
“Correct, because I plan on staying there.”
“For how long?” Victor’s champagne hand froze midair.
“I rented it for two years,” Madison said coyly.
“You did what?” Victor sputtered.
“I am going to sublease my loft, provided I can,” Madison said plainly.
“Wait. You’ve been planning this, and you neglected to tell me?” Victor mimed feeling hurt.
“It happened very fast.”
“Does it have to do with Mr. Dreamboat?” Victor raised his eyebrows.
“Not really. But maybe,” Madison said with confidence. “Let’s just say I’m experimenting.”
“Oh, do tell,” Victor egged her on.
“There’s nothing to tell right now, but I am leaving all of my options open. At least for the next two years.” Madison took a sip of her champagne. “I’m tired, Victor.”
“You certainly don’t look tired. If anything, you look quite good … for a clammer,” he teased.
“I think it’s time to let someone else climb the corporate ladder.”
“Don’t you love your job?”
“I thought I did, but this past year has been a drag. No one wants to try anything new to get more readership. Every idea I produce is met with, ‘we’re not entertaining any revisions at the moment,’” she said in a husky voice.
“Ain’t that the truth. Same models. Same articles.”
“We’re not relevant,” Madison said unhappily.
“Speak for yourself, missy,” Victor scolded.
“I don’t mean us. We as in the magazine.”
“Well, we are relevant, and we are going to have another Bellini.” Victor motioned to the waiter for two refills.
The waiter immediately responded with two fresh drinks.
“I knew I could count on you.” Madison grinned and clinked his glass with hers.
When Arlo arrived at the hospital, the staff told him that they were waiting for the doctor to discharge his brother, but he had to rest for the next few days.
Arlo was happy Mikey was going to be alright.
He was loaded with guilt. At least this was some good news.
With the exception of a fat lip and a taped nose, Mikey was in good shape.
Arlo handed Mikey a fresh set of clothes. “The doc said you were lucky. Coulda been a lot worse.”
“Yeah. When I saw that thing coming at me, I ducked; otherwise he would have cracked my head wide open.”
“Oh, hey! I seen that guy this morning.”
“What guy?” Mikey asked.
“The one who smashed your face.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The guy. The guy,” Arlo said excitedly.
“Did you tell Burton?”
“I was gonna tell him when I went back.”
“Back where?”
“The station.”
“Are they gonna press charges?” Mikey asked as he put his socks on.
“I dunno. Burton said he was going to have to figure something out. But I got a partial plate from the guy’s car. That oughta help, right?”
“I am not in law enforcement, but don’t get cocky. Be honest for a change.”
“I am being honest. For. A. Change.” Arlo underscored each word.
“Good. Glad you—we—can put this behind us.”
“Yeah, but not until we find that guy.”
“There is no ‘we’ in finding that guy. I want to stay as far away as possible.”
“How ya gonna do that if you don’t know where he’s at?”
Arlo had a good point.
“Why don’t you let Burton and his team handle it?” Mikey gingerly stood. “I don’t want you to get smashed, either.”
“Yeah, but he don’t know what I look like,” Arlo said assuredly.
“Don’t count on that, bro. That guy seems to know where everyone is,” Mikey reminded him.
“I wonder what they was talking about.”
“Who?”
“The guy and Dennis,” Arlo said.
“Probably the same thing he tried to beat out of me.”
Arlo smirked. “Yeah. I suppose yer right.”
“Have you talked to Crusty yet?”
“No. I figure I’ll talk to Burton first. Maybe he can ask Crusty to meet us at the station. I need to apologize big time.”
“You got that right,” Mikey said, and got into the wheelchair, which was required for all patients being discharged. “I think they just dump you on the sidewalk once you’re outside,” he joked for the first time in several days.
The day seemed to move quickly for Madison. Before she knew it, she and Victor were air-kissing outside of the restaurant.
“See you Monday. Bright and early,” Madison said, smirking.
“Oh, I can’t contain my level of excitement,” Victor said drolly and batted his eyes.
“Have a wonderful weekend, Victor.”