Conquer the Memories

Chapter 14

“Have you seen Marina?” Sonia asked her friend’s secretary cheerfully.

The blonde shook her head with a rueful smile. “She’s been everywhere this morning. You could check downstairs-one shipment was all mixed up-dammit. I know she was expecting you, Mrs. Hamilton…”

“That’s all right.” Sonia swept past, turned the corner into Marina’s office and viewed the turbulent chaos with an affectionate grin. After plopping a half dozen fabric samples on the floor, she found a seat; after plopping another dozen files neatly next to them, she established a footstool, and settled back in comfort with a magazine.

A five-foot whirlwind wafted in shortly thereafter with cinnamon hair wisping wildly around her face and glasses propped on top of her head. Marina took one look at Sonia and groaned. “God, take that glow off your face. I can’t stand people looking that happy anywhere around me. I take it the vacation was a good one?”

“Terrific.” Sonia chuckled. “Where’s your coffee machine?”

“It used to be two doors down. But it’s probably broken. Everything has broken or gone wrong today. There’s no reason why that should be any different.”

“Cream or sugar?”

“I tell you it can’t be working.”

Sonia returned a few moments later with two cups of coffee. Marina had thrown herself somewhere behind the mounds of paperwork on her desk; Sonia peered over the stacks before setting one steaming cup down.

“Don’t start,” Marina warned. “If I were a little less chintzy, I’d probably get some extra help around here. But don’t think I don’t know where everything is.” Marina gulped some of the hot brew and settled back with a sigh. “I’ve had better days.”

“I get that feeling.”

“That glow is still on your face,” Marina said glumly, glaring at Sonia as she settled back in the chair. “And no one but you would have dared put those colors together.”

Sonia chuckled. Her pale violet jumpsuit had had a drab look to it, until she found a pair of violet and leaf-green sandals, then added a leaf-green rope necklace and belt. In bright colors, the blend wouldn’t have worked, but in pastels the two were eye-catching.

The glow came far more naturally, and like a smug cat with cream, Sonia knew it was there. They’d been home from their four-day cruise for a week. And all that week happiness had been free, like a gift.

“I refuse to ask if you’ve made any decision about the job, because I can’t take another setback today,” Marina informed her. “So we’ll just drink our coffee. I want to hear about every detail of that vacation of yours, then you will listen to me rant until I calm down-”

“I think I will take the job, if you can live with my terms,” Sonia said mildly.

“If that place in Dayton sends me one more batch of mismatched sizes, I’m going to-” Marina set down her coffee cup and leaned forward, skeptical eyes riveted on Sonia. “Terms I can live with. My husband, not always,” she drawled deadpan. “Let’s hear it. I even forgive you for being beautiful.”

Sonia burst out laughing. “I’m serious, darn it.”

“And I’m listening.” Marina’s blue eyes abruptly got a shrewd look in them. Business was business, after all.

“I want to set up your consulting corner, just as we talked about it. I’ll set it up, organize it, staff it and keep a long nose in on your buying choices,” Sonia said frankly. She leaned back in the chair, her chin on her knuckles. “So far not too bad?”

“I’m waiting for the bad part.”

“I think I could get the whole project rolling before your fall clothes come in,” Sonia said musingly, “if you’d allow a little extra budget for some additional costs.”

“Expected.”

Sonia nodded. “But from there, I want a part-time supervisory role, Marina,” she said quietly. “I’ve thought about it. I believe it can be set up to function well with the proper staff. After that, I would love to be involved, but only if you want me on a part-time basis.”

“I want you on any basis, you nitwit. You chose half my spring line as it was, talking over coffee.” Marina shot her a disappointed look, half resigned. “Why not more?”

“Babies,” Sonia said honestly.

“Babies?”

“You know. They usually come in six- to eight-pound packages. Not house-trained, hairless, toothless. There’s really very little to redeem the little…”

Marina’s eyes were suddenly twinkling. “Oh, God. You haven’t fallen for that game?”

“I’d tell you I was nine days pregnant, but you’d call me a fool.” Sonia grinned impishly, her cheek still cupped in her palm. “Shut up, Marina. I can see by the expression on your face…Anyway, I’ve got a few months ahead where I can work like the devil, and then a few months where I’m hoping I’ll be so bloated and ugly and fat that I won’t want to venture out of the house. Although, if not…”

“I would love to see you bloated and ugly and fat,” Marina remarked. “Knowing Craig, I expect he would, too. Have a busy vacation, did you?”

“I came here to talk business,” Sonia said severely.

Marina slid her glasses back on top of her head. “We can negotiate your leave of absence over lunch.”

Sonia stepped out of the Passat and stretched, surprised to see Craig’s car parked in the drive. It was only two in the afternoon, hours before he normally returned from work. Her lips curled in an anticipatory smile as she bent over the backseat to snatch up her packages.

Tawny Lady came bounding toward her as Sonia slammed the car door. Chuckling, she rapidly tried to maneuver the packages to protect herself against a very long, very wet wagging tail. “You’ve been swimming,” Sonia scolded. “Now, you know I’ll pet you, but you’ll have to wait until I change my clothes.”

Sonia sighed at the limpid, pleading eyes and exuberant tail and extended her hand. Immediately, a very wet, shaggy head nuzzled beneath it, content with just that moment’s contact before the dog spotted a rabbit-undoubtedly imaginary-in the brush and took off again. Sonia stared at her wet palm, shook it and gingerly maneuvered her way toward the house, under the burden of packages.

The kitchen was blessedly cool, and silent. “Craig?” Setting her packages on the counter, Sonia turned on the faucet and rinsed her hands. As she was drying them, an impish smile creased her features, and she reached into the cupboard for two glasses. A gin and tonic seemed an adequate welcome for a husband home early, even if it was still the middle of the day.

Carrying the glasses through the hall a few minutes later, Sonia glanced into the living room and then passed through to the bedroom, taking a tiny sip from her drink. She smiled. Craig’s was the actual gin and tonic; hers was the tonic with lots of fresh lime-she’d never had a real liking for hard liquor. Craig had always teased her for referring to her favorite drink as a G & T…

Her eyes widened in surprise as she paused in the bedroom doorway. A suitcase was on the bed, half filled.

Craig stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in gray suit pants and white shirt, a tie hung loosely around his neck, and he was holding a shaving kit. She’d sent an extremely relaxed, well-rested man to work, and he’d returned strained and exhausted. A pallor cloaked his tan, and his eyes were stone-hard and dark blue. A tense, determined purpose marked every movement he made.

Surprise yielded to instant empathy. She surged forward, set down her drink and handed him his, as she took the shaving kit from his hands. “I’ll do that. Darn it. What happened? Where are you going this time?”

It had happened before, though not often. The extraction process that Craig had developed was new and experimental. Problems cropped up quickly in the oil business, and solving them always seemed to be complicated, expensive and exhausting. He’d made a trip to Atlanta one time and another to northern California, and Craig was invariably crabby when travel and trouble went together.

Sonia viewed the jumble of shirts in the suitcase with a sigh that was amused in spite of her concern. The man couldn’t pack worth a damn. His shirts inevitably looked like wrinkled raisins, and he never remembered socks. “Jeans or suits?” she asked efficiently, and glanced back with a warm supportive smile.

Her eyebrows lifted just a little when he didn’t return her smile. Craig’s eyes glowed into hers, bright blue and tense; there was a watchfulness about him. Abruptly, he turned to the closet, drawing out yet more shirts.

“Hey,” she murmured teasingly, confused by the steadfast stare. Determination radiated from him like a quiet menace, and when he’d shifted his eyes from hers she felt an uneasy lurch in her stomach.

“I have to go to Chicago, Sonia. Only for a few days. Not long, I promise you.”

Such a gentle, gentle voice. Her heart flipped over again. “I’ll do that,” she insisted, taking the shirts from his hand, but her voice suddenly wavered. She motioned him to the chair with all the authority of an old-fashioned schoolmarm trying to win a smile.

She didn’t win one. As she bent over his suitcase, her hands automatically started refolding his shirts. “What on earth is happening in Chicago?” she asked. “Your work hasn’t taken you there before.”

“They’ve found him, Sonia.”

Her head slowly lifted. How she wished she had no idea what he was talking about! Amazing how fast an absolutely perfect world could come tumbling down. The joy and exhilaration since they’d been home, her rash, almost ridiculous confidence that the two of them were fine again, that Craig was fine, her busy, heel-clicking day…

“Sit down, honey.” Craig took from her hands the shirt she’d folded three times. The quick brand of his lips on her forehead was meant to be reassuring. His mouth was firm and warm and roughly swift. No apologies offered. “The man’s name is Tim Rawler. He was picked up on another mugging charge,” Craig said grimly. “Only this time, he managed to kill someone. The cop who was trying to catch him in the act.”

Sonia’s eyes followed him.

“There’s no question it’s the same man.” He tossed underwear on top of the suitcase, then a belt. “The police wired his picture to me. I just got it after lunch.” He flicked another glance at his wife. Aquamarine eyes were staring at him, far more brilliant than a gem. She was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, one hand clutching her upper arm as if she were suddenly cold. “Sonia…”

“Are you saying they have him behind bars?” she questioned carefully. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded hollow.

“They have him behind bars,” Craig agreed. “Then there’s no reason at all for you to go. If they’ve got him on a murder charge…”

His jaw tightened. “I knew that was exactly how you’d feel…” He took a weary breath. “And I knew you’d want me just to forget it. I can’t do that, honey. It isn’t that simple…”

“It is. Craig. He’ll be up for life if he killed a policeman. They don’t need us.” Her voice took on an impassioned note. “There is no reason for either of us to be involved anymore. None.”

“I’m going,” he said patiently, “to press charges. People get off on technicalities all the time. Maybe it really is an open-and-shut case, but I won’t take that chance.” He snapped the suitcase closed and swung it down to the carpet. “I can’t.” Still moving swiftly, he crossed to the dresser to take a swallow of the drink Sonia had brought him. Their eyes met in the mirror-his as unyielding as steel, hers furious.

“It’s not that I don’t care. Do you think I want anyone else victimized by him?” She shook her head once and then again and then wildly shook it still another time. “I don’t, Craig, but I never want to hear about that man again. I never want to hear anything about that incident again. It’s over for us, and it’s done every bit of damage to our lives that it’s going to do.”

“It is over,” Craig agreed swiftly. “I’ll handle whatever else has to be handled. You won’t have to say a word, be involved in any way-”

“That is not the point.”

Craig’s tone turned iron, his don’t-push-me voice, rarely, rarely used but always unmistakable. “There is no way in hell I’m going to let that man get away with hurting you, without seeing, without knowing that he’s paying for it.”

“That’s it, isn’t it? What you really want to do is punch the man out, settle some score. It’s some male thing for you, Craig, but dammit, what about the two of us?”

An almost ashen color crept over his bronze skin. “I love you,” he said in a low voice, “more than my life.” The words were so simply, so quietly said that she couldn’t believe it when he picked up the suitcase. “The plane leaves at four. I can barely get there on time as it is. When I get back-”

“Craig, he’s a stranger,” she tried desperately. “You’ve let a stranger all but tear us apart, and for how long now? It’s still happening. You really think if you find some way to hurt him back that it would solve something? What would it solve?” She took a breath, her voice dropping down two shaky octaves. “Everything that matters to us is right here. There’s nothing you can do in Chicago. Nothing. And if you really can’t see that-”

“Don’t,” he snapped bitterly, “say something you don’t mean.”

“Then don’t you walk out that door!”

For a moment, his eyes bored into hers, and then he was gone.

He was gone.

Sonia stood stock-still, her heart hammering so hard that she couldn’t think. She winced when she heard the sound of a distant door slamming. She could taste blood on her lip, from the unconscious bite of soft lip between teeth.

Her palms edged up and down her bare arms, seeking warmth, finding none. She could not remember ever having been so terribly cold.

He’d accused her of not being able to understand. The problem was, she did understand. His feelings about himself as a man were tied up in all those macho values he’d grown up with. A man must always be strong; he must protect the weak; he must guard his woman. Oh, she knew.

He wanted to protect her from a stranger, because some macho man would have proven his masculinity with his fists.

She wanted protection from her man. Protection from the aching loneliness she felt now, the terrible gnawing emptiness of wondering how their love suddenly meant less to him than what he “had to do.”

She stared, heartsick, at the silent open door. The whole house echoed a stillness, a yawning quiet. Somewhere inside her she was angry, and hurt was trying to explode in the unshed tears in her eyes, but more than that she felt simply…afraid. No matter what he thought, Craig had not failed her in Chicago. It was now she felt vulnerable, and terribly alone.