“What would you do if you two got divorced?” She hated even hearing the question, much less thinking about it.
“Kill myself,” she said too quickly to mean it, and then pondered the question. “I don't know. Pick up the pieces and start over, I guess. But it would take me a long time to do it. Just as it's taken you a long time, Cal. That's not surprising. You had a lot invested in that marriage, three kids, seven years, you obviously believed in her and trusted her, and she betrayed you. I think it must take a long time to recover from something like that, if you ever do completely.”
“It has taken me a long time,” he admitted quietly, lying on the warm sand next to her, and admiring the way she looked as she lay there. She was completely unaware of her effect on him, for which he was grateful. It was simpler that way. He wasn't about to make the same mistake he had at Christmas. “Maybe too long,” he said. “I'm beginning to feel like I've wasted the last eight years. I just wanted to show everyone how hard and cynical I was, so they wouldn't know I was hurting. But I was. Too much, for too long,” but he looked better as he said it.
“And now?” she pressed him. But he didn't mind. He was always open with her.
“I just want to move on and have a life again. Suddenly I miss everything I haven't had for all these years, and I'm sitting here wondering where the hell I've been and what I've been thinking.”
“And you want it now,” she laughed at him. As he was about everything, he was impatient and wanted instant results and immediate solutions.
“Of course,” he beamed at her, feeling better than he had in years. He loved talking to her. Not only was she a brilliant addition to his business, but she was the best friend he'd ever had. He had been standing under a lucky star the day he found her. “Okay, so find me the perfect woman.” He treated her like the friend she was, since he had no other options with her. For all their theoretical talk about what would happen if things didn't work out with Steve, he knew she was still very much in love with him, and deeply devoted to their marriage. The only man she wanted was Steve, and Cal as her best friend.
“Was pimping for you part of my job description?” she asked, looking amused.
“Of course. It was in the fine print.”
“Great. And where am I supposed to find her?”
“Damned if I know,” he said with a boyish grin. “I sure haven't. I don't think there are too many perfect ones out there. Lots of damaged goods, and boring stupid ones, as my kids say. The perfect ones seem to be hiding.” He looked at her long and hard as they lay there side by side. “Or they're married.” She understood the compliment and was touched by it, but she said nothing to him.
They lay there quietly for a while, and finally he got up and pulled her to her feet, and they walked back down the beach, hand in hand, like two kids. He felt better after talking to her, and after they found their way back to their chairs, they discovered that some of the others had come down to the beach as well, and were lying near them. But Cal looked like himself again, and the cloud that seemed to have overshadowed him for awhile had been dispelled. They ordered drinks on the beach, and chatted with the others. And after a couple of hours, Meredith and Cal went back upstairs to change.
She took a shower and put on a white silk dress, and some turquoise beads, her hair was clean and shining, and she was wearing high-heeled white sandals when he next saw her. She looked incredible, but he could no longer forget how she had looked on the beach in her bikini. Everything about her was unforgettable, and when she smiled at him on the terrace they shared, he could feel something go weak inside him. And she knew him so well that he was worried that she'd see it. But she gave no sign of it.
“Ready for the onslaught?” he asked her, handing her a glass of white wine. They stood drinking together for a moment, watching a glorious sunset. “It's beautiful here, isn't it?”
“Too much so.” It made her sad seeing something like that without Steve to share it with. There were so many special moments they missed now. And she hadn't been able to reach him since they got there. The nurses had told her when she called that he'd been in surgery on and off since that morning. “I almost wish we didn't have to join the others, and we could just sit here on the terrace and have a quiet dinner tonight.”
“No such luck, my dear,” he laughed. They were going to be sharing dinner with fifty people, all of them hell bent on having a great time, and a noisy one, at the luau. But he shared Meredith's wish that they could have a peaceful evening.
As always, she was gracious with everyone, introduced people to others they hadn't met, kept an eye on what was happening, and seemed to dissipate problems before they occurred. Everyone was unaware of it except Cal, but he was well aware of everything that she did to ensure that the evening was a success for everyone who'd been there.
“You're amazing, you know, Merrie.” He commented on it as they went back to their rooms at midnight. “You're like a magician passing through the crowd, you see everything and wave your magic wand and keep everyone happy. Even me.” She knew he disliked Hawaiian food, he had confessed it to her once when they were planning the trip, and she had seen to it that they served him steak and french fries, and a salad. He had been startled when they set it down in front of him, and knew instantly how it had happened. “Is there anything you don't think of?”
“Hopefully, not much,” she said, pleased that he noticed. It wasn't her job to take care of all the things she did, but she liked doing it, and it was obvious that no one else was going to.
“Thanks to you, it was a great evening. It couldn't have been much fun for you though, you were always working.”
“I actually enjoyed it too.” The setting had been spectacular, and the atmosphere comfortable and festive.
“Do you want to sit on the terrace for a while?” he suggested, and she nodded. He had a bottle of champagne in his bar, and he poured a glass for each of them. She hadn't had anything to drink since the glass of wine they'd shared at the beginning of the evening. The others had all indulged themselves on scorpions and mai-tais, and she knew there'd be a few headaches in the morning. But she was clear and fresh and sober as she sat next to him in the warm, tropical night, and he was too. They just sat there quietly, at ease with each other. They didn't need to say anything, they were just enjoying a sense of harmony and fulfillment, and relaxing.
Meredith set down her glass after a while, and without saying anything, he reached out and took her hand, and they smiled at each other.
“Thank you for being such a good friend to me, Merrie.”
“You've done an awful lot for me, Cal.”
“This is just the beginning.” They were going to take his company far, and he was even thinking of starting a new division with her. They had been talking about it for months, but he wasn't thinking of that now as he looked at her, and as he had six weeks before, he leaned over, unable to resist the pull he felt, and kissed her. He felt an electric current go through him as he did, and a sense of panic that he was doing the wrong thing, but he couldn't help himself, and neither could she. Her arms went around his neck, and she kissed him, and they sat that way for a long time, holding tightly to each other. He knew he should apologize to her again, but this time he couldn't bring himself to, because he knew the apology wouldn't have been honest. “I shouldn't say this to you,” he whispered finally, “but I love you, Merrie.” It was a cry from his heart, his soul. He had known it for a while. And she knew it too. She had known it without knowing, and she nodded. That was the force she had felt pulling her away from Steve. It was Callan.