Page 41 of Don’t Open Your Eyes

He stopped walking and stared at her, open-mouthed. “You can’t be serious. You’re the social media expert, which makes you uniquely qualified. You have all the skills that Chase is looking for. You can’t let your personal problems interfere with your job.”

Riggs had the empathy of a robot.

“I’m feeling a bit scattered lately. I want to make sure Chase gets the best service.”

“Take the rest of the day off and go relax over the weekend. I’m not reassigning him.”

Annabelle simply nodded, but she had a lot of thinking to do. She loved her job, although with Riggs as her new boss, she wasn’t sure she would continue to. But this was not the time to switch companies: She’d been here for nine years, and her stock options matured in another year. If she left now, she’d be leaving a lot of money on the table. Even though James did well, it wasn’t as though they had unlimited funds. And she knew all too well that all it took was an unexpected sickness to bring financial ruin. Could she afford to squander all that money because she was worried about a dream she had? Her actions were in her control. Just because she’d been attracted to the man in her dream didn’t mean she was going to have an affair with Chase. If she quit and went somewhere else, maybe something worse would happen. What kind of a person was she if she couldn’t resist a little temptation? And, besides, Chase was married too. She could always decide to quit if things did start to get out of control. But they wouldn’t. Her dreams aside, Chase seemed like a decent guy, and he was in desperate need of a social makeover. She loved a challenge. At least that’s what she told herself.

Before

Annabelle was exhausted. They’d spent over five hours in the ER last night. Fortunately, her mother hadn’t required surgery, but they’d had to wait for the orthopedic surgeon to arrive to assess the break. James stayed with them the entire time. He had a calming effect on Miriam, and Annabelle had never been more grateful for his friendship. She couldn’t stop thinking about her mother’s comments about James and how she thought they were a couple. That must be why Annabelle had dreamed last night that she and James were married. Crazy. Randy was teaching an evening class and offered to come by after, but Annabelle told him it wasn’t necessary. For some reason, the few times he’d come to visit her mother with her, his presence had agitated Miriam. She told him not to take it personally—there was no rhyme or reason to her mother’s behavior these days.

At James’s urging, Annabelle had taken the day off from classes. “You need your rest. All this stress isn’t good for you or the baby,” he said when they’d finally left the hospital last night. He’d insisted on following her home to make sure she arrived safely. He made her feel so taken care of, and she reveled in it. Unlike her friends, she had no experience growing up with a father looking out for her. She used to be so envious when other girls would complain about how their dads cross-examined every date, constantly making them check in, worrying about their safety and well-being. Her mother worried about her, of course, but it wasn’t quite the same. It was nice to have James looking out for her. Sometimes she wished that Randy was more like him in that way. But she had other things on her mind. She’d been lucky to get an appointment at the law firm today. She looked up as the receptionist called her name.

“Mr. Gray will see you now,” she said.

Annabelle followed her into his office.

“I have good news,” said Preston Gray, a partner at Mitchell’s law firm. His huge office, with oriental rugs and a gorgeous desk, indicated that he was high in the firm’s pecking order. Preston exuded an air of wealth and success, from his custom-made suit to his salt-and-pepper hair. Annabelle made a mental note to send Mitchell a gift basket, to show her appreciation.

“You spoke with my father?” she asked.

He nodded. “He’s not contesting any of it, and he’s willing to make a lump sum payment for both the alimony and child support arrears.”

She resisted the urge to ask if her father had expressed any interest in her life.

“I was also able to negotiate a ten percent interest penalty, even though, unfortunately, Connecticut doesn’t mandate it. There is one caveat.”

“What?”

“He wants to meet with you.”

Annabelle shook her head. “Absolutely not!”

“Now, I’d urge you to consider. Ten percent of the alimony compounded almost doubles the amount. The same with child support. You’d be walking away from a number in the six figures.”

“He can’t buy me. I want nothing to do with him. He left when I was six years old. Never sent a card, never called, nothing. Why the sudden interest? It’s not as though he’s the one who initiated the contact. Does he think that this money absolves him of what he did?”

“I can’t speak to his feelings one way or another. But I wonder, might it do you some good to see him, maybe put the past to rest? I can put a time limit on it, and I can insist that the meeting take place here if that makes you more comfortable. And don’t forget that this money will help you to take care of your mother.”

“What exactly did he say?”

Preston pressed the intercom button on his phone. “Margo, can you bring me the transcription from my call with Gerard Morgan?”

A moment later the door opened and an older woman entered with a folder. “Here you go, Mr. Gray.” She withdrew from the room.

“Here it is, and I quote: I should have gotten in touch years ago and made restitution. I’m happy to pay everything plus interest. But I want to see Annabelle. Even if she can’t forgive me, I need the chance to tell her how sorry I am. I’ve changed. I really want the chance to prove it.”

Annabelle stiffened. She didn’t want to give him the opportunity to try to worm his way into her affections. She knew herself. She hated conflict. She never held a grudge—well, this was different. But she was afraid that if she met with him, she might be tempted to forge some sort of a relationship, and her father didn’t deserve that. It was easy for him to say he was sorry now. And what about what he’d done to her mother? All the angst and misery he’d caused her. Maybe all that stress had contributed to her getting sick. He had his new family. He would have to live with his guilt—the same way she and her mother had had to live with his abandonment.

“No, I won’t meet with him. And that’s the only answer I want you to give him. A simple no. Forget the interest. If that’s the only way he’ll pay it, just collect the back alimony and child support. Then you’ll see the kind of man he really is. If he has truly changed like he says, he’ll pay the interest, even if I don’t meet him. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, and I hope you can understand my position. I’m not trying to make things harder for you; it’s only—”

“No need to apologize. You’re my client. I want what’s best for you.” Preston paused, then tented his hands. “For the record, I wouldn’t want to meet with the son of a bitch either.”

Annabelle smiled. “Thanks.”

“But…”