Better Than Chocolate Page 4
“What the?!” Brad was looking at her in disbelief, fury in his eyes.
“I told you. You work for me. Not my dad.”
“On this project.”
“You promised.” She walked away from him furious.
“Are you insane!”
“Your decision,” she yelled back at him as she headed for Mary’s van. She couldn’t believe he was talking to her dad when he’d promised. Promised!
“Yoo Hoo!”
She looked back to find Mary struggling to catch up. “I’m sorry,” she said shamefaced. “I just … ,” she blushed, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, but he promised none of this would be discussed with my dad.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Mary said. “Is he a family friend or something?”
“Or something,” she said glowering. “Dad’s a businessman. He promised to stay out of this. And then he sent …” she couldn’t say his name, “Him as a present.”
“And I usually just get chocolates,” Mary grumbled.
Elena re-arranged some of the trays to fit hers in, then turned and took Mary’s’ from her. “He’s a business consultant, works for my dad.
I said he could stay as long as he didn’t have anything to do with dad. And he lied,” she said clearly furious. “He’s probably dialling my dad as we speak. He’s probably been giving him daily reports.”
“Wouldn’t he cover his tracks better if he was doing that?”
She looked at Mary in disbelief and the older woman held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I could be wrong.”
“Why would my dad be calling him?”
“Because he works for him?”
“Exactly,” Elena said, missing Mary’s point. “He’s getting a report on me and I won’t have it.”
“OK,” Mary said. “But it’s not everyone Choco likes.
“What?” Elena looked at Mary as if she was nuts.
“Choco. My cat. If I didn’t know better I’d swear he had catnip tucked in his pockets.”
“Well, Choco can have him as far as I’m concerned,” Elena said.
CHAPTER FOUR
Brad started after her then realized if he caught her he might strangle her. He looked in disbelief at the area of water his cell phone had disappeared into. Women!
He was used to managing things, managing people. This type of thing just didn’t happen to him. He couldn’t believe she could accuse him of going behind her back. He’d made it more than clear to Greg that he would NOT be giving ANY information about Elena or her business. And now it was blowing up in his face.
What was Greg calling about? Perhaps he should find a phone and find out. But for the first time in a long time he had no desire to call Greg Tighe back. He remembered the last time he’d been home.
“All you ever do is work,” his mother had complained. “There’s more to life than money.”
“I like my job,” he’d said shrugging, as he helped himself to one of his mom’s home-made chocolate chip cookies. In her mid-forties she was on the plump side with dark hair starting to streak through with silver and a ready smile. She’d lived for her family he thought, his heart twisting in his chest. Home had been a sanctuary for him growing up.
His mother always seemed to be there drinking coffee and talking to him, to friends, to his aunts and numerous cousins. On rainy days she fixed them hot chocolate and cookies and let them play in the rec room. In summer she shooed them outdoors to play endless games of hide and seek, capture the flag or just hang out in the small wading pool eating ice-cream sandwiches and drinking endless glasses of lemonade.
At nights and on weekends his dad would be there. He’d thought him the bravest, strongest man in the world then. There was endless talk and laughter. He’d thought himself the luckiest kid in the world. And then things changed.
His dad started looking worried and they talked together in whispers casting worried glances towards Brad and his sisters. One day his dad came home and said the mill was closed. It was over. He spent endless days staring at the television and drinking too many beers.
Late at night Brad heard his mother crying sometimes. But during the day she did her best to hold them all together, somehow managing to get a job at the local café. The whole town was hurting. Almost everyone Brad knew had parents going through the same thing.
He’d been glad to graduate and get a job in Kamloops. He’d gone to night school and got a degree in business, started a company with a friend of his. And then he’d started another one. He never, ever wanted to be the same as his parents. He wanted to be rich. He wanted everything.
Over the years he’d helped put his two younger sisters through college and tried to help his parents. But his dad had gone on to find work as a carpenter and his mother worked part time at Wal-Mart.
“We don’t need your money son,” his dad said gruffly.
“We’re happy,” his mother insisted.
But was he?
He saw himself taking on bigger projects, growing richer. He’d have the big house on the North Shore along with a beautiful wife and kids.
And his wife would never have to worry about money. His kids would never wear hand me downs or have holes in their shoes. Never. Ever.
A picture of Elena saying material things didn’t matter came into his mind. What the hell did she know, he thought savagely, kicking a small stone on the sidewalk in front of him as he walked. Maybe everything a small voice whispered from inside him. His scowl deepened. He wasn’t listening.
He went straight up to his room and gave Greg Tighe a call.
“What the hell happened?”
“Problem with my cell phone.”
“And it took twenty minutes to find a phone?”
“Yup.”
“Look, I need you back on the Enlo project.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Too complicated to go into over the phone. Besides they’re going to need hand-holding. I need you back over here for a few days.”
Great. Just great. “I’m tied up over here. Send me the details and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Not good enough. Besides how much time can a rinky dink project like that take?”
“You’re the one who wanted me to drop everything and make this my first priority.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me. Doesn’t mean I expected you to move over there permanently. Point is I need you here now. I’ll expect to see you in the office tomorrow morning.” He hung up.
Shit, shit, shit. He hated the Enlo project. It was a group of Japanese businessmen who wanted to build huge building developments in the False Creek area and thought by labelling them environmentally friendly they could get approval they wouldn’t normally. They were about as Eco conscious a group as McDonalds and Greg loved it. Not one of them would voluntarily spend a dime extra on green anything if they didn’t think it would pay off with a dollar somehow.
How Elena had turned out the way she was remained a mystery to Brad. One he wanted to explore more. He headed off in the direction of Mary’s house stopping first at the desk to arrange for a new cell phone.
“Don’t think you can do that here,” the clerk said. “You’re going to have to go to Nanaimo.”
Unreal. He headed over to Mary’s.
Mary was in full swing and Elena was nowhere in sight.
“Where is she?”
“She’s gone,” Mary had said, and stuck a plate with brownies in front of him. “Taste and tell me which you like best.”
“I can see that. But will she be back soon.”
“Not for the next few days. She said she was going on a buying trip.”
“What?”
“She needs stuff for her gallery and she wanted to check out the work of some of her artist friends. She thought it would fit in well.”
“Great. Is there a number I can call her at?
“No. But I have her itinerary if you want.”
Her itinerary. He was supposed to be in Vancouver and �
� he looked at the rough, hand-written map Mary had handed him. This was somewhere in some godforsaken corner of Vancouver Island.
If he was smart he’d catch the next plane back to Vancouver. He’d take the ferry back from Nanaimo tonight after picking up a cell phone. He … “How long ago did she leave?”
“About an hour ago,” Mary said.
He reached down, rubbing the cat which had suddenly appeared on his lap.
“This is not the way to do business.”
“No. Of course not,” Mary said, but he could see a twinkle in her eye.
“The one on the left,” he said pointing at a half eaten brownie. “It’s rich and chewy without being over-poweringly sweet.”
“My choice too,” she said appreciatively.
He rented a jeep from a car dealership next to the cell phone outlet in Nanaimo. And then he called Martin Lee. “I won’t be able to make the meeting tomorrow. If you could tell me your concerns I’ll see what I can do.”
“Cost. This damn green concept costs too much money.”
“It’s what you wanted.”
“That’s what people want to buy. I don't care.”
“Green costs more. But you’ll have people lined up waiting to buy.”
“So make it green. Green enough to get the buyers in. No need to go overboard. Keep costs down.”
“You want green, you get green and it’s going to cost you. Painting the building green and putting out a pretty brochure isn’t going to cut it.” He clicked the phone off and felt a huge sense of satisfaction. He was tired of dealing with men like Lee and Greg.
Right now he just wanted to get on the road and drive. Parksville, Comox, the signs of familiar communities giving way to yet smaller hamlets. It was getting dark as he approached Campbell River, a small fishing community and he decided to grab a room at a small fishing lodge on the water.
Without much real hope he showed the desk clerk the hand drawn map and asked if she could give him direction.
“Oh, that’s Bente’s place. She lives just down the road from me. Are you a friend of hers?”
“Not really,” he said.
The girl gave him an enquiring look. Fresh faced, about twenty something she looked as if she was in the habit of trusting people.
He sighed. “It’s a long story. The friend I want to see is visiting her. I’m hoping I can catch her before she heads to her next destination.”
“Oh.” The girl looked puzzled. “Why don’t you just call?”
“To start with I don’t have the phone number. And,” he said hastily, as the girl began to write it down. “I think it would be better if I talked to her in person.”
She looked at him for a moment. “You had a fight.”
“A misunderstanding,” he said.
She smiled at him. “It’s OK. You can follow me out when I leave at 9:00.”
“They don’t know I’m coming.”
“It’ll be all right,” she said easily. “I know Bente.”
And so less than an hour later he was following her down a small, winding, gravel road that seemed to be cut out of the rainforest with small clearings showing periodically along the way, lights twinkling in the night air.
He was not at all sure it was a good idea. In fact he had a better than average idea that it was a mistake. A huge mistake. Unfortunately he couldn’t come up with a better one and at least this way he’d be able to find the damned place.
CHAPTER FIVE
She sat at the table drinking a freshly brewed cup of coffee and watching as Bente tidied up the kitchen and helped her oldest with homework, before shooing her off to bed. There was an ease here, a feeling closeness and intimacy that Elena longed for, would have died for.
Only a couple of years older than her, Bente had married Jim after her first year of university. Together she and her husband had built a life together. After graduation they’d decided to move up here. Bente had started a small business selling bird houses while her husband taught at the local school. It was the bird houses Elena was interested in. If you could call them that.
They were works of art made out of drift wood that seemed to blend into the forest, organic in design, so that they looked fit for the fairies she also made.
Right now Bente was more interested in catching up on old friends. She brought a cup of coffee over to the table along with a plate of cookies. “So tell…?”
“What?” Elena asked innocently.
“Who’s Brad?”
She blinked. “I didn’t think I said anything about Brad.”
“Didn’t have to. That was Shelley at the lodge. He’s there asking about you.”
“What?” Shocked, Elena felt her coffee go down the wrong way causing her to splutter and cough.
“Interesting,” Bente said.
“He’s just a friend.”
“OK.”
“I’ve been consulting with him,” Elena said, regaining a measure of composure.
“Is that what they call it now,” Bente said.
“It’s not like that,” Elena said desperately.
“Good. Then it won’t bother you that I’ve invited him here.”
“What? Now!” This was not happening. “He’ll be lucky to find the place in the dark.”
“Maybe. But I think he’s following Shelley out. That’s probably him now.
She watched as two cars turned off and made their way down the driveway. She was only too aware of her heart beating double time in her chest. It might not be him she thought desperately. It could be anyone. But as Jim appeared with a freshly washed baby, toddler and Star, now finished her homework and ready for bed, she was painfully aware she couldn’t be that lucky.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” she said. “You know I used to be a good story teller…”
“Another time,” Bente said firmly. “Make yourself at home. I’ll read Good Night Moon and be back out in ten minutes.”
“Aww. Mommm.”
“No Aw Mom’s,” Bente said firmly tucking the baby into her arms and disappearing with Meghan and Star in tow.
She was left to answer the door. Some friend Bente was, she thought resentfully. She could just not answer. Maybe he’d go away. But the ringing continued. Resigned, she made her way to the door.
He stood there looking better than he had a right to she thought resentfully.
Even as her heart seemed ready to burst out of her chest she was only too aware of his freshly washed hair, still wet from the shower. Of his eyes which searched hers looking for … she broke away from his gaze.
“Come on in. Bente and Jim are just putting the children to bed. I’ll get you a cup of coffee. Did you want cream or sugar in it? Did you…” She broke off as his hand brushed along her shoulder, every nerve in her body aware of his presence.
“It’s OK, I didn’t come for coffee.”
She turned to look at him then. “What did you come for?”
The question hung in the air between them.
“To see you,” he said simply. His eyes were dark with passion and she was unsure where things would’ve gone if Bente had not appeared at that moment.
“That’s it then. They’re finally in bed, although Star did talk Jim into giving her one more story.”
She wasn’t sure she was happy to see Bente or not.
Brad seemed to take it in stride. “You must be Bente.”
“I am. And you’re …”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced you,” Elena blurted out. “Brad this is Bente, my room-mate from university. At least for the first year. And then she married Jim.”
“The rest as you say is history.”
“And this is Brad Phillips. He’s been helping me with my business.”
“It’s an ambitious undertaking,” Bente said. “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity but it’s miles away from anything you’ve done in the past.
“Not that far off,” Elena said confidently. “Its art relate
d. And if I can get the gallery/coffee shop going it’ll support me so that I can do my art.”
“We all do what’s necessary to make our dreams come true. Why don’t you have a seat,” she said pointing Brad to a chair and taking a seat herself. “How do you fit in?” she said, looking at Brad, as she added cream and sugar to her coffee.
“Business is what I do,” he said simply. Then he grinned and his dimples came out. “Someone sent me over as a birthday present. She knows the art end, I can supply the business expertise.”
“I know, “Elena said. “You only got chocolates.”
And Bente laughed the rich, throaty laugh Elena had grown so used to hearing when they were room-mates and still missed. “It’s a good present. It would’ve saved me a lot of heart-ache when I was starting up.”
Brad gave her an I told you so look. Or maybe that was just how she chose to see it.
“I never knew,” she said. “You make it look so easy.”
“Catch me on a bad day,” she said laughing, as Jim joined them.
“That’s it. They’re down for the count.”
“But for how long,” Bente said laughing. “That’s the real question.” She surveyed them. “How I envy you …”
“For what?” Elena said, shocked. “You’ve got it all.”
Jim just laughed. “Yep. Mortgage, jobs, kids. Living the dream. Don’t get us wrong, we wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He looked at Bente with such love in his eyes Elena felt a lump in her throat.
Bente just reached over and held his hand. “But new beginnings are such an exciting time.” She sighed dreamily and Elena had the uneasy feeling she wasn’t talking about her new business.
She was aware with every fibre of her being of how Brad’s eyes followed her every move. She wanted nothing more than to be alone with him. And at the same time … What would it change?
They were still two different people with different lives, different dreams. No matter how gorgeous he was it wouldn’t work. Especially when he worked so closely with her dad.
“Stay the night, “ Bente was saying. “You’ll get lost trying to find your way back into town tonight. We’ve loads of room. That is, if you don’t mind sleeping on a futon.”