Love Untold

Love Untold: Chapter 38

Love Untold: Chapter 38

“Are you sure you can’t wait one more week?” Dena asked as they slowly stepped forward in the ticket line at the airport.  “I’ll be done with finals and graduation, and then I could go with you.”

“I’ve already made an appointment,” Chrissie said, biting her lip, nervous about her meeting with David Elliot.  “He thinks I’m coming to pick his brain about a sports-inspired design for a major client, and I’ll casually ask him about his family.  Piece of cake.”

“Chris, we looked everywhere.  He doesn’t have a brother.”

“Yes, he does,” Chrissie maintained.  “I can feel it.”

Dena said nothing more.  Since that day in Chrissie’s home office five weeks ago, Dena had been nothing but supportive -- even if she did periodically spout words of disapproval and rebuttal -- and that support was why she accompanied Chrissie to the airport today.  After their initial twenty-three brothers, they were able to narrow that list down to three David Elliot’s in the Oklahoma City area, but with further intense investigations, none of them were the David Elliot from the sports chain, therefore, none of their brothers was the man Chrissie had been searching for.  But just in case, she searched those brothers anyway...all were married.  Chrissie soon realized she would have saved all that time if she had just hopped a plane to Oklahoma City and asked him herself.

And here she was.

“Call me as soon as you get there,” Dena said, hugging her tightly before she joined the line for the security scanners.  “I mean it.  The exact moment.  Don’t wait until you check into the hotel.”

“Dena, I’ll be fine,” Chrissie said.  “I wish you wouldn’t worry about me.”  And wasn’t that ironic?  Chrissie usually did the worrying.  The reverse in roles did not go without notice.  Dena hugged her again and sniffed back some tears.

“I can’t help it,” Dena said.  “I’ve never been so scared for someone in my life, and I don’t like it.  You’re going to give me gray hairs.”

“I’m sorry,” Chrissie told her and meant it with her whole heart.  “When this is all over, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Dena stared at her sadly.  “Will it ever be over, Chris?  If this David guy really doesn’t have a brother, will you accept it?”

Chrissie looked away.  In front of her, a small family stood in line to pass through the metal detector -- a man and his wife murmuring quietly and smiling down at their little baby in the woman’s arms.  The scene was so bittersweet and perfect that she couldn’t stop staring at them.

“Chris?”

She turned her eyes back to her sister.  “Yes, Dena...I’ll accept it and move on.  I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

Chrissie choked out a laugh and wrapped her little finger with Dena’s.  “I swear,” she vowed.

The four and a half hour flight strained Chrissie’s nerves.  When she wasn’t trying to ignore the chattering of the woman next to her, she rehearsed her meeting with David Elliot in her mind.  She knew just about everything about the man that had become public over the course of his life.  Which wasn’t much.  Mainly because the man was adopted as a baby, so whether he had a blood brother or not, he might not even know.  Still, she was determined to find out.  She printed a photo of him off the internet, studying it whenever she got a chance.  The funny thing was that, the more she looked at him, the more she got this feeling that she’d seen him somewhere before...and not from her coma dream.  Yes, he looked exactly like Race did in her dream, but there was something else, and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Is that your husband?” the woman asked.  She introduced herself as Maggie as they sat down together in their seats.

“Um...no,” Chrissie said, tucking the photo away in her purse.

“He’s a handsome man,” she went on.  “He looks familiar, though.”

Chrissie blinked at her companion, but she settled for smiling politely instead of replying.  Maggie didn’t seem to notice Chrissie’s brooding silence and proceeded to tell her all about her three divorces and the children she never saw any more because they had moved on with their lives and made families of their own.

Breathing a sigh of relief as the plane landed in Oklahoma City, Chrissie told Maggie good-bye and rushed toward the exit.  An hour later and one phone call to Dena to tell her she was safe, she drove her rental car out of the airport and headed west.  David Elliot’s office was easy to find.  Just off the interstate, she pulled into a warehouse complex for FANatical Sports, thinking she liked Mr. Elliot more for having his office close to the action of his business instead of in some downtown building miles away from the majority of his employees.

The front of the office reminded Chrissie of a car dealership.  Neat rows of vehicles lined the parking lot, and the building itself was a giant, three-story glass and steel structure, letting in the sunlight and giving it an airy feel.  She sat in her car in the visitor’s parking spot and clenched the steering wheel.  Her promise to Dena came back to her.  If David Elliot was just another dead end, she’d have to stop this crazy obsession to find her dream man.  Could she do that?  Would she really be able to give up love and move on because Race wasn’t a real flesh and blood person?

She’d have to.

Please let him have a brother...or a cousin...or even a best friend, some pictures of the man she was meant to be with, the man she loved but had yet to meet.  Anything...she’d settle for any kind of sign that David Elliot was the path she needed to take.

Inside the general waiting area, the receptionist handed over her visitor pass and escorted her to another, smaller room until Mr. Elliot could see her.  Chrissie sat down on a comfortable sofa and flipped through a magazine.  She was alone in the waiting room, so her nervousness wasn’t noticed.  She stood and paced, the interior designer in her admired the raw photographs of athletes in the field on the walls, and then she took her seat again, only to stand up and walk a circle around the room a few seconds later.  After a while, she wondered if someone forgot about her.  She peeked down the carpeted hallway from the main room, but no one was present.  The doors to many offices were closed, some open, and she could hear people going about their jobs, talking on the phones, clicking away at their computers, ignoring the woman idling impatiently in her good indigo suede heels.

A man in a navy business suit came through the front door and walked down the hallway, talking on his phone.  Chrissie knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but he was being so loud about his conversation, she couldn’t help over-hear him.  “The convention is less than six weeks away,” he said into his phone, coming closer to Chrissie.  He wasn’t David Elliot, and her pulse calmed down.  “I don’t give a flip what the hotel said or how it burnt to the ground.  David wanted some place out of the way.  He’s bringing his family and doesn’t want them around a big crowd.”  He nodded to Chrissie as he passed by, but stopped a few feet down the rest of the corridor.  “Listen, how hard is it to find a place outside of Denver?  The area is crawling with ski resorts...just keep looking.”  He ended the call and knocked on a door at the end of the hallway, entering without permission.

Hearing him talk about ski resorts made Chrissie think about her mother.  The woman from her coma dream and the woman who hugged Chrissie in the hospital after she woke up were two different species.  Dolly Hill had been frantic for her daughter’s life, and she didn’t once mention grandchildren.  And she hadn’t since then.  Chrissie sometimes wondered if her mother stood under that chandelier and received a head injury, too.

Chrissie touched the scar on her forehead, running her finger along the straight, pale line until it disappeared into her hair.  She swallowed and shook with trepidation every time she looked at it and felt it.  Dena wanted to sue the installation company responsible for improperly hanging the chandelier, but Chrissie knew how these things went.  It was an accident, that was all.  And if she hadn’t been hit, would she be standing here now?  Would she know what true love felt like?

“Miss Hill?” a young woman asked, bringing Chrissie out of her thoughts.  

“Yes.”

“Mr. Elliot will see you now.”  She turned and walked to another part of the building, past another waiting area, and knocked on a set of double glass doors.  Chrissie got her first glimpse of the real David Elliot, but he sat in his desk chair with his back to the door, staring out the window, and only waved them in.  “Mindy,” he called to the girl over his shoulder, “Is Michael overseeing dock four?”

“I think so, Mr. Elliot,” the girl said.

“Something’s going on down there.  Find out what it is, will you?”

“Sure thing,” Mindy said and smiled at Chrissie.  “Miss Hill is here.”

David Elliot turned, and Chrissie’s head suddenly got extremely dizzy.  Race.  Four months of living every day without him hit her ruthlessly.  She grabbed the closest thing to steady herself -- which happened to be poor Mindy’s arm -- and Mr. Elliot frowned at her.  “Miss Hill?  Are you unwell?”

“Here sit down,” Mindy said, moving her to a chair.  “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Now that she had a few moments to inhale some oxygen and clear her head, she felt like a fool.  That man wasn’t Race.  He just took her by surprise since he resembled her dream husband so much.  But the voice was different -- deeper -- and his eyes were too dark, almost black-blue, and the face that watched her with distant concern was the face of a stranger.  He resembled Race, but there was no warmth, no recognition, no attraction, and Chrissie tried to laugh off her behavior.

“I’m sorry.  I’m fine.”  She touched the scar on her forehead with a small smile.  “An accident,” she explained, “I tend to get a little dizzy at times, but it always passes.”

Mindy came back and pressed a glass of ice water into Chrissie’s hands.  She drank it deeply and set the half-empty glass on a side table.  Mr. Elliot said nothing during all this.  He watched Chrissie with a curious intensity, and as she finally got her act together, he nodded and asked, “So, you wish my advice on a sports-inspired design for a client?  May I ask who this client is?”

Chrissie was prepared for this.  She gave him a secretive smile and said, “I’m afraid I can’t.  My client wishes to remain anonymous, but I can tell you that through my research, we may be interested in purchasing some of your memorabilia from your charity.”  Chrissie felt proud of herself for knowing Mr. Elliot’s business outside of the workplace.  He was very active in the Special Olympics, and auctioned off many items collected from professional athletes around the world.  And it never hurt to tickle his sweet spot if she wanted information out of him.

Mr. Elliot steepled his fingers under his chin and eyed her scrupulously.  “I see,” he said.  “However, I fail to see how I can help you with your client’s demands.  You see, Miss Hill, I did a little research of my own, and I discovered you to be a very talented designer with the full abilities of performing your work without coming to ask my opinion.  Normally, I don’t have the time to deal with such frivolities.”

Chrissie blinked at him.  She didn’t expect that.  “Then why did you agree to see me?”

He gave her a sardonic smile, and she decided right then and there, He is not Race.  “Because I want to know why you’re really here, Miss Hill.”

Chrissie swallowed and looked around the room to gather another lie on her lips.  “I...uh...”

He stood up.  “Miss Hill, I don’t who you’re working for, but I won’t have any more of it.  Go back and tell your ‘client’ that I will not give out any information you’re snooping for.”

Chrissie jerked to her feet.  “I...I’m not...”  She closed her eyes and breathed for a moment.  Opening them to beseech him, she said, “Mr. Elliot, I’m not here to snoop for anyone...I...I did have one question I wanted to ask you, but I see that it doesn’t matter.”  She started toward the door, but something inside her snapped, and she spit out, “I’m sorry for taking up your precious time.”

Okay, she was getting angry.  He was a pompous jerk, and she didn’t know why she thought he might be the answer to her problem.  “Miss Hill,” he said to her, and it was his voice that stopped her from dashing out of his office.  She looked over her shoulder.  “I apologize,” he said, smiling for real.  “That was rude of me, and I really try not to be rude.”

“It’s fine,” she said, reaching out to his glass door.

“Miss Hill,” he stopped her again, and it sounded like he was right behind her.  When she looked back this time, she stepped backward because he was so close and it probably wouldn’t be appropriate to snatch him up and lay a kiss on him -- just in case he really wasn’t Race.

“Yes?” she whispered, reaching for the door handle behind her back.

“What question did you want to ask me?”

She gazed deeply into his eyes, and there was humor lighting up in there.  “I...um...do you...”  Oh, God!  How hard was it to ask one simple question?  “Do you...have a brother?”  There, she said it.

His good-humor vanished.  “No,” he answered curtly.  “I do not.  Anything else, Miss Hill?”

Chrissie shook her head.  He watched her expectantly, and she wanted to run away from him.  But a part of her...a part of her, deep inside somewhere, wanted to reach out to him.  The amusement in his eyes might be gone, but it had been replaced with something darker, sadder, wary...

“Actually, Mr. Elliot,” she said, gathering her courage, “I overheard one of your colleagues talking on his phone.  You’re looking for a hotel or resort in the Denver area?”

His gaze narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.  She hastily dug through her bag for a pen and scrap of paper.  “Maybe I can help with that.  My mother...she owns a resort off the beaten path.  During the off-season, it’s not very crowded, and she should be able to accommodate you.”  Chrissie scribbled the name of her mother’s resort and phone number on a sale’s receipt.  With shaking fingers, she held it out to him.  “I’m sorry I bothered you.  I just...never mind...”

She exited his office and walked as fast as she could away from him.  The front doors to the building called to her like a beacon of safety and sanity.  She had to get away.  A tear fell, and she knew that once she walked out into the sunshine again, she’d be alone...no Race, no love, no dream.

“Miss Hill,” his voice called behind her, but she kept going.  “Miss Hill!”  Chrissie ran to her car, but a hand blocked her from getting in.  She looked at it and traveled up to the face of Mr. Elliot again.  He sucked in a breath when he saw her crying.  Chrissie quickly wiped her cheeks dry.  “Why did you ask me if I had a brother?”

“I...It doesn't matter, Mr. Elliot,” she said weakly.  “If I told you, you would think I’m crazy...just like everyone else.”  She brushed his hand aside and pulled up on the car handle.  He gently closed the door again.

“Tell me anyway,” he said in a soft, gentle voice, and for just that moment, Chrissie closed her eyes and remembered how Race felt, how he sounded, how he touched her and loved her and she yearned to have it back.  But David Elliot was not Race.  No one was Race.  No one would ever love her like he did.  

She rubbed her scar.  “I was in a coma for almost two weeks...a chandelier fell on my head, and well...I dreamed of a man...”  She stared right at him.  “A man who looks almost exactly like you, and I thought...”

His face chastised her as he sighed.  “Miss Hill, I’m a very happily married man...”

“I know!  I do, really I do, Mr. Elliot, and I’m not here to cause you any problems,” she entreated.  “And I know that you were adopted, and I thought that maybe you had a brother...or something...and...It’s dumb.  I’m dumb to think that someone I dreamed of is real.  But I had to know, and now that I do, I can move on with my life...”  She stared off into the distance, feeling those stupid, idiotic tears well up in her eyes again.  “What’s left of it, anyway.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Miss Hill,” he said, and she smiled and nodded at him.

“You have, Mr. Elliot.  Thank you.  You’ll never see me again.”  She tried to get into her car one more time, but he stalled her...one more time.  He waved the paper with the resort written on it.

“Thank you for this,” he said.  “I’ll have my man look into it.”

“You’re welcome.  May I go now?”

He moved out of her way, and she drove off with him staring after her.  Chrissie bypassed her hotel and went straight back to the airport.  It was time to go home...alone...forever.

*****

Reese Jackson jumped his mountain bike over a cropping of rocks and landed with ease.  His cell phone jingled, “Thunderstruck,” as his back wheel slid over loose gravel.  He groaned and braked to a jarring stop.  David knew he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.  This was supposed to be his zen time.

“Yo,” he said after punching the speaker button.  “I’m in the middle of something here.”

His older, half-brother laughed.  “Let me guess...you’re surrounded by trees and sunshine and there’s no one around to stare at you.”

“Whatever, Bro,” Reese said, rolling his eyes and grinning.  “What’s up?”

“I just had the strangest meeting with a very beautiful woman,” David said.

“Lucky you.”

“Oh, it gets better,” his brother said with a chuckle.  “You still having those dreams about a wife you’ve never met?”