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“Can’t. I’ll be working late for the next few weeks until I’m officially named CEO.”
The will had apparently been read and the board made aware of Frank’s wishes. Because of this, the process was pretty cut and dry. The only complication was Scott who hadn’t returned to Wyoming as I’d expected. Instead, he was here, at Blackstone Holdings every single day holed up in Frank’s office going over Frank’s files. The atmosphere in the office was tense and everybody was feeling it.
“Give it a rest for an hour, at least.”
My eyes went right back to the ROI figures on a commercial property in the Cayman Islands.
“Can’t.”
He gave it a moment before speaking again. “Have you spoken to him?”
There was only one him.
“He won’t speak to me. I ran into him in the break room and he looked right through me…it’s like he blames me for Frank dying. He’s not thinking rationally.”
Miller nodded in understanding. “Let me tell you about the male ego, Syd––”
“Yes, yes, I know––delicate thing. You look at it the wrong way and it goes soft.”
Miller made a face. “Are we still talking about ego?”
“Mostly?” I answered, somewhat confused myself.
“My point is, you made him look bad. His ego took a direct shot and it needs time to heal. He’ll come around eventually.”
All I could do was keep hope alive.
Miller left shortly after, and half an hour later I powered off my computer, gathered my bag and my jacket, and headed for the elevators.
The entire floor was empty save for the cleaning staff. The fluorescent lights casting a singular shadow on the carpeted floor. At the elevators, the bell chimed and the doors directly in front of me slid open. The next thing I knew I found myself on my butt being trampled by two hairy beasts, their enthusiasm infectious. I laughed for the first time in weeks.
Whining and crying, Romeo nuzzled me with his wet nose, leaving damp streaks on my white silk blouse while Juliet’s tongue was all over my face.
A pair of Italian handmade lace-up boots came into view. My eyes followed the dark denim-clad legs up to a black leather motorcycle jacket and a dispassionate expression. He looked so handsome and unapproachable I wanted to cry.
“Off, c’mon,” he said to the dogs pulling on their collars.
Slowly and ungracefully, because I was wearing a pencil skirt with an uncompromising hem, I picked myself up off the ground and faced him, making it a point to hold his opaque, unblinking gaze. He made no move to help me, the jerk.
“I forgot my keys…” His voice faded to silence as he stared at me.
The dogs continued to nuzzle my hands and I bent to kiss them on the head. God, I missed them. Not as much as I missed the man I loved, though.
“How’s your mother?” I asked, forcing myself to stand tall in the face of his palpable resentment. I could literally feel it coming off of him in waves.
“Coping…we all are.”
I nodded, looked away for a beat. “Scott, I––”
“I was going to call you,” his gaze dipped down, “but, um, since you’re here––” Knowing he wanted to talk made my heart ache in relief. I was about to reach out and touch him when he spoke again. “I’m filing for divorce.”
My heart no longer ached because it ceased working altogether. I was on the verge of tears again. I could feel them coming up along with the bile in my throat.
Divorce. Divorce. Divorce. It went on and on in my head as a hollow echo.
“Can’t we just talk before you decide?” I begged. I had no pride left. This was it. Negotiating was my thing and I instinctually knew when the other party was ready to concede as well as I knew when they were getting ready to walk away from a deal. When they’d determined that the cost-to-benefit ratio had tipped in the wrong direction. Scott had the look of a man ready to cut his losses.
“What about? How you lied to me for months?” he calmly retorted. “You must’ve had a real good chuckle at my expense––”
“No,” I cut in. “No, I felt terrible––”
“––what I did to you pales in comparison. Were you waiting for the right moment to stick it to me? Was that the plan?”
“Your father insisted I not tell you!” I shouted, unable to control myself anymore. “I asked him over and over and he kept saying––soon. He said his doctors had given him twelve months. I’m sorry he’s not here to explain it himself. I’m sorry he did that to you, but I couldn’t betray his trust. Frank gave me everything, everything, Scott…I…I couldn’t do that to him.”
Heat infused his cheeks. Color high, eyes hard, he started to walk away, passing me by.
“Scott!”
“Get a lawyer,” he said turning, “and don’t get your hopes up. I’d rather burn it all to the ground than see you walk away with any of this.” Walking backwards, he raised his arms to indicate the office, the dogs jogging after him.
