Lost and Found - 7

7

Wednesday 25^th October 2007

Amelia had never taken a day off sick, ever. She’d dragged herself into work in various states of ‘at-deaths-door’, but yesterday she was unable to tolerate anything more than moping around the house. Martin was shocked, to put it mildly, after all he’d just placed her in the superhero position, and she’d bailed on work the next day. What would he think? So here she was arriving at the office, feeling like shit. She’d been broken into pieces by the only man who’d ever hurt her...again.

Part of the reason she’d stayed at home was to avoid seeing Sol, if he’d turned up in her life the previous day, she knew it would have killed her, or she may have killed him! Now as she rode the tube to work she was more angry at herself for letting him get to her. How much hope and how much of her future had she bestowed on one man? For years she’d been strong, independent, never needing anyone, and within a week of Sol being back in her life, she’d broken into a zillion fragments. And the cold reality was he owed her nothing, all he was really guilty of, was not telling her he was getting married.

When she got to the office, she rushed to the bathroom in the reception and gave herself a virtual smack on the backside; she hadn’t become the most, what had Clay called her? The most promising broker this side of the Atlantic. She hadn’t got that on pity and self doubt.

Back in control, tall and calm, she stormed out of the toilet straight into the broad, firm chest of Sol Tanner.

                “No, no, no, no!” She chanted the word like a mantra a she backed away from him. “Don’t do this Sol!”

                “We need to talk!” he reached for her hand, but she snatched it away.

Scowling at him she hissed a response not wanting to draw attention to them, “you’ve had ample opportunity to speak, to talk, to explain...about how you’re getting married! It’s nothing to do with me, I have no claim, no stake in you or your future, but you lied to me Sol, after all that’s happened.”

                “I can explain,” he answered reaching for her arm and securing a hand around her wrist, “you owe me that!”

She turned, uncaring of anyone else, “Oh no, you’ve made it perfectly clear neither of us has any obligation, but I did think you may have still had some respect for me! Now get out of my way, and out of my life!”

The elevators were all on the higher floors and she needed to escape, so she rushed, at full speed to the stairs. Eleven stories, sounded like a good idea at the time, but as she panted her way up to the right floor in her work heels, she realised that she’d lost the upper hand a long time ago. It didn’t help that as she burst into her office Clay was lounging in a seat, gazing out at the horizon, feet on her desk, his ankles crossed.

His casual and over familiar manner should have angered her, but it didn’t, she merely smiled. Furiously sweeping away the beads of perspiration she felt coating her brow, she announced her arrival, “Clay, it’s good to see you!”

He jumped to his feet offering her his hand, “Amelia, sorry I got carried away with the view.” She loved his drawl, “I was just hoping that yesterday, being ill, wasn’t due to our announcement?”

Shaking his hand Amelia smiled, “no of course not! I felt a little ill in Italy last week, just a stomach bug, it’s better now. It’s not that I can’t deal with long hours and travel you know?”

Clay laughed, “We’ve already decided on you, a day of sickness won’t make you look any less of a perfect candidate! I just feel we thrust it upon you and you obviously had no clue.”

Amelia admitted she didn’t, but she was more than flattered, she was honoured to have the opportunity, and hoped she wouldn’t let him down.

                “So you’re taking the offer?”

She regaled her love of ‘Wall Street’ though without the corruptness, and he chuckled as they shook on the deal. He promised her dinner the following day to discuss the finer details.

The day off meant that she was snowed under, so she worked diligently skipping lunch and finally pulling level by well after six in the evening. The other offices were in darkness when she finally shut down her computer and gathered her things together.  A long but productive day. The thought of a bath, but this time without being dragged off onto the horizon to another disastrous party was like an oasis in the desert.

Waving goodbye to the security guard, who as usual sat at the desk with the evening paper, she finally emerged into fresh evening air, it seemed so long since she’d been outside. Normally she got the tube home, but tonight she was so shattered that she treated herself to the extravagance of a cab. Sighing she closed her eyes until the car stopped outside her home. There were no lights on which meant Li was out, probably celebrating her new deal!

Paying the driver, she dragged herself her bag and her laptop out into the street. She was just unlocking the door when a voice spoke from behind.

                “I’m not stalking you Meal-ia, I promise.”

She all but crumpled, “please leave me alone, I’m too tired for this.”

                “I need us to talk!”

Amelia felt the anger rising, as she turned to glare at him, “if you have any consideration for me, then you’ll just go. I’m so tired.”

                “Will you just agree to hear me out? I want to explain, please?”

Sighing she leaned back against the door, “there’s nothing to say Sol, you’re getting married, I’m going to New York, our paths won’t cross again, I hope you’re happy and will now leave me alone!”

He was reeling visibly at the news she was leaving and was struggling to form a response, “Please, I don’t want things to end like this, hell I don’t want this to end at all. I’m begging you now; please just give me an hour?”

If this truly was goodbye...again, then Amelia knew she had to close the door, that meant speaking to him, crossing the t’s and dotting the i’s. So she succumbed, “I’m really busy tomorrow, Friday after work? You can have an hour?”

He grimaced and she knew he must have a prior engagement, “can we say eight pm? The Guadalajara Diner? Do you know it?”

She nodded, a meal was more than she wanted and definitely more than he deserved, but at that moment, her priority was getting into her home and into that bath asap. Her body was screaming for relaxation.

Within seconds she had slammed the door behind her and blocked him out...for a moment at least.

Friday 27^th October 2007

Amelia hadn’t had chance to think about meeting Sol, the previous day Li had finally signed her contract. She was celebrating with her parents, and she didn’t expect to see her until the weekend. After a busy day in work, Amelia had been wined and dined by Clay. There had been technical talk the first hour, explaining the layout and running of the New York office, and what her role would entail. She was glad to know that she was only expected to manage her own clients until she’d settled in, and then she’d be fighting with the others for business. And it was dog eat dog.  He also accepted that she’d need to fly home often, after all her considerable client base was located in Europe, and she would need to meet with them reasonably regularly.

By dessert and coffee they were discussing New York as a home.  Amelia had been there once, shopping with Li and had loved it, but it was still pretty much a mystery to her. So she sat back and watched Clay wax lyrical about the City he seemed to be in love with.

She was still grinning when she climbed into the cab he’d hailed outside the restaurant, and as she had changed for bed, the after work dinner had turned into a whole evening out; her mind was awash with the changes she was facing. And she was more optimistic than she’d been in ages.

But now as she checked out her reflection in the mirror, she was apprehensive. Dinner with Sol. The thought scared her. She was so angry, so disappointed and so resigned that she didn’t know how she’d survive the evening. A part of her wanted to hit him, pound as much pain into his chest as he’d put into her life, but another part knew she really had no right. He’d had a life the last few years, without her, and she had no right to make any demands on that. But the thought of him married, being with someone else caused a lance-like pain deep into her chest, because that third part of her still wanted him to appear like a knight in shining armour and sweep her away for the life she’d always dreamed she’d have with him when she was young.

Staring at her reflection Amelia sighed. Just what was she hoping this night would bring? Revenge? Shaking her head she pulled off the jeans and tank top she’d selected, and threw them on to the pile of clothes – the dress that was too formal, the skirt and blouse that were too suggestive. Finally she settled on her chunky biker boots, slinky leggings and a silvery sleeveless top. It made her feel powerful, yet sexy. Eat your heart out, Sol Tanner she thought, this is what you could’ve won!

Laughing she applied a deep plumy lip gloss, she rarely bothered with more than essential make up, but tonight she needed a little something to hide behind, her mother had always called it war paint, and now for the first time she knew why.

Suitably pleased, well as much as she could be, she headed out into the night. It was a damp horrible evening, and being a Friday, the roads were filled with revellers all enjoying the end of their working week. So a taxi was like gold dust. She’d walked several blocks in the now fairly heavy rain huddled under an umbrella before the yellow light of a taxi cut through the night.

Amelia had never been to the restaurant, but she loved Mexican food, and this particular address, off a busy High Street, was in a perfect tucked away location, a small place, the shop front adorned in Mexican flags, was homely, and she instantly realised this was a place she’d love.

A bell tinkled as she pushed open the door and she was met by a swarthy looking man.

                “Hola senorita! You have reservation?”

She smiled at the friendly man with the broken English, “yes, Mr Tanner?”

                “Ah!” He lifted his eyes in a knowing way, before leading her across the room to a secluded corner table.

                “Gracias!” she offered using her high school Spanish, then ordered a glass of red wine before even meeting Sol’s eyes. Sliding into the seat opposite she finally looked at him, did the fact that he was unavailable make him appear more handsome? His blue eyes searched hers, desperate for a sign, a hint of the mood she was in. He looked tired, dark rings surrounded his eyes, his jaw was clean shaven but despite the residual tan, he was pale and gaunt. She didn’t have any sympathy, but neither did she take as much pleasure from it as she’d imagined.

                “I didn’t think you were coming!” Even his voice was tired.

She slipped out of her coat then handed into the proprietor who’d returned with a large glass of red wine, then lowering into the seat opposite him, she finally replied, “the weather seemed to mean there were no taxis. I came as soon as I could.”

He nodded, passing the napkin from the table nervously through his fingers, “I wasn’t complaining, I’m just really glad you came.”

Shrugging, she raised her glass and took a large mouthful of wine, “I’m interested to hear the fantastic story you’ve had four days to create!”

Sol sighed, there was pain in his eyes, but she had to keep remembering her own hurt, “I am sorry, I should’ve told you...”

Raising a hand, Amelia silenced him, “I’ve had a long time to think about this, and I’ve realised that being old acquaintances you owe me no explanation.  I shouldn’t have reacted like I did. Congratulations on your engagement!”

Sol flinched, “it’s not like that.” At that moment Pedro, a name badge finally revealed an identity, came to take their order. Scanning the menu, Amelia selected a chimichanga, Sol a burrito, he then ordered more of the wine that she was drinking.

                “Since I saw you in my house, what was it three weeks ago?” when she nodded he continued, “I have been unable to get you out of my head. I’ve been in a permanent daze. Over the years I imagined I saw you, in the cinema, at the supermarket, you’d not believe the amount of double takes I did, everywhere.” He sighed, “at some point I gave up, accepted that I’d never see you again. And life does go on...”

She laughed out loud, “oh yes it does!”

Watching her with pained eyes he acknowledged her angry comment, “I’ve worked hard, it’s not been easy climbing the publishing business like this, but at every step I saw your father, his disappointment, condescending glances and it spurred me on. I’ve wanted to prove him wrong more than anything. When I did see you...I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to hurt you, didn’t want to take my anger out on you, but I just saw red. No one has ever hurt me like your father did that day.”

Despite her protests that this part of his behaviour she understood, he insisted on explaining this in depth of his emotions.

                “I learned over the years that your father took everything from me, my home, my love, my future, but he didn’t and couldn’t take my integrity or my dignity. And it has been my striving force since...”

Amelia laughed, “so where was this famous integrity when you were gripping my hand, you may not have promised me the world, but you definitely weren’t telling me about how you were getting MARRIED!” Her anger had increased as she spoke, and the statement ended in a shout. Embarrassed at the attention the other diners were giving her, she tried to slink into her seat, disappear from view, but still managed to hiss at him, “you’re a bastard Sol, just like my father, and just like Alex, and I have no intention of sitting here listening to your bullshit!”

Reaching out a hand he covered her arm, stopped her from bolting, “you promised me dinner Meal-ia, and whilst everything you say is true, I still want to explain.”

As she shook her head, Pedro re-emerged with their gigantic main courses. Despite her anger, the food looked, and smelled delicious, and she hadn’t eaten all day. Her eyes glanced from the glorious food, to his optimistic eyes, and then groaned, “ahh! Only because I’m starving!”

His grin stayed as he tucked into his food, it was a long time before he spoke.

                “I’ve worked with Helena for years.”

Her head snapped up to look at him as he toyed with his food.

                “I don’t know when I thought of her as more than a colleague. Probably a long time ago. But after you...us...I’d given up on love, marriage...” Half smiling he reached for his wine. “It was comfortable, convenient, and probably all I thought I’d get.” His eyes were on her again as he added, “when I lost my soul mate, I presumed that was my one chance.”

She laid down her knife and fork, “what so Helena is some consolation prize? God Sol! Just listen to yourself! The woman would give Elle MacPherson a run for her money, and you’re saying that she’s the comfortable option?”

                “I’m not doing a good job of this,” he sighed, “I’ve spoken to thousands, entertained rock stars, politicians...and you repeatedly reduce me to a gibbering wreck! Look what I’m trying to say is, I love Helena, of course I do, but it’s different. When you came back it all changed.”

Suddenly Amelia wasn’t just disappointed; she was angry, “don’t throw this at me, you making this sound like it’s my fault.”

                “NO!” Again everyone turned to look at them, and he instantly hushed himself, “that’s not true. But every day I have thought this was my life, I see you and suddenly everything’s up in the air. I’ve never felt the...spark...with anyone else that I feel when I’m just talking to you. And now I can’t even work out which way is up anymore.” She could see real emotion in his face, finally, but she couldn’t believe his words. “I know you feel the same.”

                “You’re engaged!”

He groaned, “Helena...we were on holidays...it’s what she wanted more than anything.” Covering his face with his hands she could tell he was trying to compose himself.

                “You should have told me. The first day I saw you...at your house, you were horrible to me, you could have told me then.”

Sol dropped his hands, “you know I’m rubbish at emotions, I always was. But I promise you I have only ever told one person I love them. I don’t care whether you believe that, but it’s the truth.”