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"Good, good and good," she exclaims.
"You're here to see him?" She crooks her finger towards Mark's office.
"Guilty as charged," I joke.
She hooks her arm in mine, "Allow me to lead the way."
"It's odd to be back here," I confide in a low voice. "It's been so long since I've been to see Mark."
"I'm a little shocked to see you now." She knocks tentatively on his slightly ajar office door. When there's no response, she pulls it open farther, peering inside. "Ah, the dictator isn't here."
I laugh at her description of Mark. "I can wait for him, yes?"
"Sure." She motions for me to enter the office." Let me see if I can find him." She scurries out of the door and down the hall.
I pull my phone from my purse again hoping to see a message from Jax. There's nothing. I place my purse down on one of the leather chairs facing Mark's desk. I hear voices near the door. I turn to look but I don't see anyone so I walk to the bank of windows overlooking Central Park. I soak in the view, relishing in how beautiful the city is at this time of y
ear. My gaze follows the window's shape and my eyes come to rest on the shelf I'm standing in front of. I suddenly realize there are numerous framed pictures, some of me. I reach back for Mark's desk chair and lower myself as I scan the pictures. I settle on one of Mark and me at a gala fundraiser last year. Something in the background of the picture catches my eye. My breath stalls.
"I can't find him anywhere." Carrie's voice startles me and I drop the framed image in my lap.
"Ivy?" I hear her voice in the distance coming closer. "Ivy? Are you okay?"
I feel as if I'm floating in mid-air. I can't speak. I manage to pick up the picture with my right hand. I shove it at her.
"Oh shit," she whispers. "I can't believe he still has pictures of the two of you."
I shake my head from side-to-side and manage to pull a deep breath from my lungs. "Carrie, I..I…" I stammer.
"Ivy, should I get someone? Are you not feeling well?"
"No. It's just that." I turn the framed picture so it's facing her now. "Who is that? That man in the background. The man looking at Mark and me. Do you know that man?"
She pulls on the reading glasses that have been dangling from a delicate chain around her neck. She peers at me and then at the picture. "I know him," she says matter-of-factly. "He's gorgeous, don't you think?"
I manage a very weak smile. "Who is he?"
"Jax Walker," she purrs his name.
"How do you know him?" I ask tentatively, not wanting her to realize that her answer may change the entire course of my life.
"He's Tom Walker's son." A soft smile envelopes her lips. "Tom was Mark's partner. Jax inherited his share when Tom died. That was such a hard time for all of us. He was such a good man and…" her voice trails off into the ether as the sudden pounding in my ears drowns out everything.
I can't hear.
I can't think.
I can't feel.
I can't…
Thank You
