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She left.
CHAPTER NINE
To: Sanfrandani, Englishcrumpet
From: Kangagirl
One last thing to tell you both. I spoke to Mum on the phone early this morning. We had a good talk and I let her know I’d rather spend a weekend with her and Dad a bit down the track after my birthday, that I’m really busy at the moment and don’t want a party of any kind.
From: Englishcrumpet
I’m sure your mum will understand.
From: Sanfrandani
You can throw a big party when you’re ready.
From: Englishcrumpet
Or not.
From: Kangagirl
People make a big deal out of the thirtieth birthday, but really, it’s just another day on the calendar. I probably won’t even think much about it at all.
Grace had instant messaged a little after that, a message Marissa caught on her way out the door to go to work. She’d asked whether Marissa was in denial about her thirtieth birthday.
Marissa hadn’t had time to respond. And right now she was focused on other things. Rick Morgan things, to be precise. Work things. Marissa barrelled along the corridor towards Rick’s suite of offices.
Anyway, she had to come to terms with that looming birthday. It wasn’t denial to say it wasn’t significant, it was the power of positive statement. Say it enough times and she’d come to believe it.
If she could apply the same outlook to her relationship with Rick—her working only relationship—that would be a great help.
As a mature professional, she could work with Rick until his secretary returned. She only had to survive that long and then she could forget him, forget what he knew about her. All she needed to do was hold her head up and he’d soon realise he had no reason to pity her.
Dani and Grace had blamed last night’s kiss on too much alcohol or maybe an overload of successful business-related feeling when Marissa had calmly and casually discussed the topic with them via two separate Instant Message sessions last night and this morning—before she’d sent that later message about Mum and avoiding a birthday party.
You mean when you buzzed them, desperate for some support because you were scared stiff you’d let yourself fall for the boss only to find out he’d invaded your privacy?
She had not fallen for the boss, nor did she intend to. And he had invaded her privacy.
He’s head of a multi-million dollar company and you’ve been working directly for him, handling some very sensitive material. He exercised his right to enquire about your past employmentand he said he only wanted to know about that. You know the department head who spoke to him is a big gossip.
Marissa had worked out the identity of the caller, of course. It had only taken the jolt of discovering that Rick had gone after the information for her to remember the owner of that somehow familiar voice.
Okay, fine, there was that. But she still didn’t have to like it or feel comfortable. Rick did know her secret.
Perhaps he hadn’t acted inappropriately, and he had seemed to truly regret the outcome. And she knew one of his secrets. That he wanted to make love to her, had desired her from Day One.
That knowledge did not thrill or tempt her. She couldn’t let it!
Her initial IM sessions with Dani and Grace hadn’t been the result of a desperate buzzing, either. More of a, Hello, if you’re there a talk might be nice but no problem if you’re not kind of buzzing. An, I don’t need help or anything. Just felt like chatting sort of buzzing.
They were all friends. Grace had already confessed that she was concerned about her daughter Daisy going off on her gap year backpacking around Europe and Dani had admitted she had financial pressures and was worried about paying off her student loans from college and graduate school.
Marissa had owed it to them to contribute her share to the confidence stakes, and so she had admitted that she might be having a teensy tiny issue with awareness of her boss. Nothing dramatic. Certainly nothing to worry about. She could put it to rights.
Grace had been the voice of reason, had encouraged Marissa not to blame Rick too much for his accidental knowledge of her past. Dani had been a little silent on the subject, but certainly sympathetic. They’d swapped mailing addresses and phone numbers after their chats, and Marissa had visited the early opening post shop this morning and sent them both some gifts.
Chocolate. Australian chocolate, to be exact, because chocolate lifted your spirits and gave you confidence.
Because her friends might enjoy it, and Marissa did not need courage to face Rick again, even if she had eaten a chocolate bar this morning while mailing the others. All in all, she was dealing very well with her life right now.
She hadn’t even thought about that knitting idea for the past couple of days. Not really. Other than to look at the wool, wondering about the exact blend of lemon and pink and blue of the variegated strands …
Marissa shoved open the door to the office suite.
‘Good morning, Rick.’ She spoke his name in a firm, even, totally in control and not at all kissed senseless or embarrassed or overwrought tone as she crossed the office space at a fast clip.
Stride in. Purposefully get to work. Keep it impersonal and he would soon see she was not at all carrying any scars from the past.
No? So why did you let that past dictate the kind of man you want in your future?
Because she’d learned from her mistake!
‘Thank you, Collins. I appreciate you bringing that to my attention.’ Rick’s voice was pitched in a businesslike tone that had absolutely nothing to do with Marissa’s greeting or, indeed, with her at all.
Because he wasn’t alone, was he? How unprofessional of her to just storm in and start yammering away without even looking. Well, she’d only said good morning, but even so …
Concentrate, Marissa. If professionalism at all times is going to be your motto, you might start with attention to detail. Such as—who might be with your boss when you enter the office.
She hurried to her desk as Rick and the other man headed out of Rick’s room. Right. Marissa set about sorting her in-tray’s contents into ‘Get it done early’, ‘Can wait until later this morning’ and ‘Yeah, sure she’d really get to this today. Not!’ piles on her desk. The laminate covered in cartoons quickly disappeared beneath the piles of work. She wasn’t in the mood to be amused anyway.
Rick saw his visitor out. The man gave Marissa a nod in passing. And then Rick turned to her and yanked at his tie and a wealth of regret showed in his eyes as he seemed to search for words.
‘About last night …’ He cleared his throat. ‘About my investigating why you’d left your last position, I mean …’
‘I overreacted.’
Please accept that as the truth, and please don’t bring up the kiss that led to that discussion.
‘My reaction was silly because that piece of past history is exactly that. I’ve moved on. I’m dating, at least casually, again—looking for a nice, ordinary guy. Let’s just forget all of it. That’s what I’d like the most at this point.’
If her request rang hollow, she hoped he didn’t note it. And if his gaze remained as dark and uncertain as before, she couldn’t let herself think about that. Professionalism at all times. She couldn’t let there be anything else.
Rick’s gaze searched hers before he nodded and murmured, ‘I’m pleased you’re prepared to forget it.’ He didn’t look pleased, but really, what would she know?
The next couple of hours passed in a flurry of the usual busyness. Rick worked on, but he had a hard time concentrating. He wanted to go out to Marissa, tell her again that he was truly sorry, somehow make up for the way he’d invaded her privacy. He didn’t want to think of her ‘dating casually’ and how possessive and inappropriate was that?
‘I was wondering, after everything, if Darla got the promotion? I meant to ask earlier but I … got distracted.’ Marissa asked the question from his office doorway, and he looked up into brown eyes that had melted for him last night, had filled with warmth and delightful response before he’d ruined it all with his thoughtless words.
Ruined what couldn’t be allowed to happen anyway. Maybe he should just be grateful that something had put a stop to where that kiss had been headed. And forget about her ‘dating’ plans. ‘Darla got the promotion. I’m taking her and Kirri out during Kirri’s school lunch break today to celebrate.’
‘I’m really happy for her. Please pass on my congratulations to your sister when you see her.’ Marissa turned away and went back to her desk and her work.
That was as it should be, right?
So why did Rick feel so empty inside, as though he’d almost grasped something special in his hands, only to have it slip away after all?
What was the matter with him? He pushed himself back into his work and tried not to think beyond it.
Marissa observed her boss’s concentration on his work and tried her best to emulate it. She didn’t want to think. About his complex family. About him at all.
The hours came and went and, late in the afternoon, after a quiet lull of concentrating solely on her work uninterrupted, the phone rang. She took the call, put it through to Rick. ‘You have a call on line one. It’s Tom.’
Rick murmured his thanks and she went on with her work.
‘Tom.’ His voice softened. ‘How are you?’
Another phone line rang. As she reached for it, Rick said, ‘Just rest and do whatever the doctor tells you, Tom. If it’s another two weeks, so be it. Marissa—Marissa’s holding the fort well enough in your absence.’
Marissa tuned out Rick’s voice and answered the second call. ‘Marissa Warren.’
‘Marissa, it’s Dad.’ His voice was strained as he went on. ‘Mum’s in the hospital, love, with quite bad abdominal pain. They’re doing tests right now and they’re going to send her for an ultrasound before they—’ He cleared his throat. ‘To see what’s wrong.’
‘I’ll come straight away, Dad. Is Aunty Jean—?’ Panic flooded through her and she couldn’t remember what she’d been going to ask.
‘Yes, Jean’s on her way.’ Her father drew a breath. ‘She should be here in another hour.’
‘Good. That’s good.’ Marissa had to get to Milberry. It was her only thought as she clutched the phone tighter in her hand. ‘You can’t use your cellphone inside the hospital, I know, but you’ll phone my cell once Mum’s back from the tests, let me know if there’s anything—?’
Marissa was in trouble. Rick ended his call with Tom and reached her desk before he realised he’d moved. As she raised her eyes and locked onto his, something deep inside him clenched.
‘If there needs to be an operation they might move her to a larger hospital in another town.’ Marissa paused and listened again. ‘Yes, I understand we don’t know enough at this stage. I’ll just set off, Dad. You’re right. That’s all I can do for now. I love you. When you see Mum again, tell her I love her and I’m on my way.’
The moment she replaced the phone, Rick spoke.
‘What do you need?’ Whatever it was, he would get it for her, do it for her. The decision was instinctive. He didn’t want to examine the significance of it, could only worry for the woman in front of him. ‘Where’s your mother? Let me know the fastest way you can be at her side and I’ll make it happen.’
Marissa was already on her feet, her hand in the drawer to retrieve her bag when she stopped, looked up at him. She blinked hard and her mouth worked. ‘Mum was rushed to hospital in all this pain.’
‘What happened to her, sweetheart?’ The endearment slipped out, perhaps as unnoticed by its recipient as it was unplanned by him.
Her brown eyes darkened. ‘I only know it was abdominal pain. The ambulance had to get her from the newsagent’s while Dad came back in from his work on one of the road-works crews outside of town. Dad only got to see her for a second before they took her away, and they wouldn’t tell him much. I have to get to Milberry. I need the Mini.’
‘The car you hire from your neighbour.’ He remembered her muttering something about that, the day she’d felt faint after their crisis meeting.
It felt so long ago, and a Mini wasn’t the vehicle to get her out of the city and to her family with any kind of speed or comfort.
Rick caught her wrist between his fingers, rubbed his thumb across the soft skin. Hoped the touch offered some comfort, and silently acknowledged that a part of him wanted the right to more, whether that meant his emotions were involved in her, or not.
He couldn’t worry about any of that now. ‘Do any flights go to the township? I only know of it vaguely. It’s rather off the beaten path, isn’t it? How far is it by road? I can charter a plane for you if there’s an airstrip …’
‘There are no flights, no airstrip. Milberry doesn’t have an airport. It’s a reasonable sized town but there’s nothing much around it.’ Marissa stared at the mess on her desk as though she didn’t know what to do with it, and then she stared at him as though she wasn’t quite sure what to do with his offer either. ‘It’ll take me almost three hours in the Mini. Mum’s been at the hospital about an hour already, I think.’
‘I’ll take you myself—’
‘I forgot. My neighbour left Sydney this morning with the Mini.’ She broke off and said in confusion, ‘You’ll take me?’
‘My car will be faster than a Mini, faster than you having to hire something.’ He wanted to beg her to let him do this for her. Instead, he made it a statement and silently urged her to simply agree with it. ‘We can leave straight away.’
Confusion clouded her worried brown eyes. ‘You can’t … I can’t ask …’
‘I can, and I’m not asking you to ask.’ He needed permission. Needed to be allowed, wanted to draw her into his arms and promise her everything would be all right, that he would fix everything for her. ‘Give me one minute and we’re out of here.’
He used that minute to get on the phone and instruct one of the senior staff to come in and pack the office up for them and secure everything.
His borrowed secretary was in trouble. He could help her and he’d chosen to do so. That didn’t have to be any big thing, and his relief as Marissa put herself in his hands and allowed him to usher her from the building was simply that of a man who had got his way.
He told himself all this, but the intensity he felt inside didn’t lessen.
In moments he had Marissa out of the office building, into his ground-eating vehicle and away. A glance showed that her face hadn’t regained any colour. She was also utterly silent. ‘Tell me the route.’
She gave him the directions and fell silent again.
Rick clenched his hands around the wheel and got them clear of the city. Once he had, he murmured her name and reached for her hand. He curled his fingers around hers and she cast a glance his way.
‘Move into the middle seat so we can talk while I drive.’ He tugged on her hand. ‘You’re going to tell me everything your father said, the name of the hospital your mother is in and all you know about her situation.’
She obeyed him without question, and that told him, more clearly than anything else, the extent of her concern for her mother.
Once he had her shoulder pressed against his arm, her body close enough to feel her warmth and know she could feel his warmth, Rick relaxed marginally.
‘Talk, Marissa.’ He stroked his fingers over hers, registered the tremble that spoke of her tension.
‘Dad said they were sending her for an ultrasound of the abdominal area.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘There’s a small imaging facility in Milberry that does that sort of thing and they were opening it up for her. I guess the place must close at five. That would have meant another ambulance trip, though a short one.
‘Dad wanted to go with them but the nursing staff said no. I suppose they needed to focus on finding out what … what needed to be done after the tests.’ Her breath hitched as she ended this speech.
Rick squeezed her hand, drew it onto his thigh and curled his fingers over hers. ‘There are lots of things that can cause pain that are not life-threatening. If it was her appendix, for example, an operation should set it to rights.’
She nodded. ‘Maybe that’s what it is.’
‘How old is your mother? Has she enjoyed good health until now?’
‘She’s fifty. She never gets sick. Not like this. Neither of them do.’ Suddenly the fingers beneath his curled with tension. ‘What if …’
‘What if we ring the hospital and ask if there’s any news?’ He inserted the question gently.
