Hell in a Handbasket - The Journey (10 page)

BOOK: Hell in a Handbasket - The Journey
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“Maeve?” A painful expression crossed Ryder’s face and I
felt myself start to feel bad for him. Then
I remembered,
he
lied to me
.

 
“You lied to me.” I
tried to whisper as I glanced at the people still in the room with us. It was
bad enough if they knew, but I didn’t see any reason why they should get more
of a show. Trying hard not to let the tears welling up in my eyes spill over
for these people to see, and gossip about. “You lied to me…”
Dipping
my head, allowing my hair to cover my face as I whispered, “You knew who I was.
You acted like you didn’t know me. You knew…you
knew
the whole time…how
could you do that to me? What did I ever do to you to deserve being treated
like that? I-I-I trusted you…“ I glanced up at him, “Oh
God
, I threw my
morals out the window for you…everything—everything, that I believed in…gone.
In one day…gone, in one day.” I took a ragged breath in an effort to stop the
tears from spilling. I couldn’t stop them, and the tears started.

Ryder reached for me again, and I jerked out of his reach,
causing the chair to fling out from under me, and crash farther down the wall.
I heard a few people gasping, and making rude noises on the other side of the
room, but no one said anything outright. Ryder never took his gaze off me, his
jaw was clenched, and hurt showed in his eyes.

My back was pinned against the wall, but at least Ryder
wasn’t reaching for me anymore. I pressed myself as far into the wall as I
could, and eased my way against it, trying to get to a point where I would be
able to get around him, and as soon as I was sure that I could get past him, I
bolted for the door. My hand hit the heavy glass door, jarring my bones up to
my neck, and jolting me with pain at the base of my skull. The door barely
moved, just enough for me to slip through. I ran to the elevator, and hit the
button, dancing as adrenaline and nerves pinged inside me, telling me to run. I
heard a ruckus inside the conference room. I didn’t want to think of Ryder, or
the hurt in his eyes, knowing full well that I couldn’t trust myself around
that man.

The elevator seemed to take forever as I fidgeted in the
lobby. It finally opened, and as I started to rush in, I remembered what Ryder
and I had recently done in this very elevator. Feeling as if I had been smacked
hard in the face, I backed out of the elevator.
Fear showing
in my every movement.
I turned around not knowing where the stairs were,
only that I could never get into that elevator again. I spun and saw Ryder
standing mere feet from me. Too close, he was too close. I gasped, and felt
more tears streaking down my face. The look on Ryder’s face hurt me almost as
much as knowing that he had lied to me. No, no, I couldn’t look at
him,
I couldn’t feel for him,
he lied to me
.

I started running, not sure of where I was going, or how I
was going to get back to the airport, or how I was going to get home. Nothing
seemed to be making it fully into my thoughts, nothing except escape. I wasn’t
worried about anything other than the fact that I had to get away and fast!

I spun again and spotted what appeared to be a door down at
the end of the hall and I took off running as fast as my skirt would allow me
to go.

 

* * * *

 

I ran to the door, relieved that it had an image of stairs
on it. I paused just long enough to try to take a deep breath, my lungs didn‘t
seem to want to accept any air into them, and I nearly choked. I looked back
down the hall, from the direction I had just come, and there was Ryder looking
as gorgeous as always and sadder than I think I had ever seen anyone look. I
shook my head trying to get any sympathy for him out of my mind. I gasped as I
tried again to take a breath, and I felt a pain in my chest that hurt almost as
bad as when my Gram died…almost.
 
I hung
my head, and opened the door to the stairs. I started to run down them, tripped
over my skirt, and decided that maybe a slower pace would be better. Thankful
that I had made it to the first floor, I thought I couldn’t move another step.
I paused for a moment to gain some composure and take another deep
breath,
I walked over to the corner, and sat down on the
cold tile floor. I pulled my knees up to my chin, wrapped my arms around my
legs, hung my head, firmly planting my face into my knees and began to sob. I
am such an idiot! I had no idea why I even let this guy get this close to me in
such a short amount of time, yet I had, and now I had to pick up the pieces,
and figure out what I was going to do. How I was going to pick up those pieces
and fix my life, I didn't know. Gram would have called this a “Life Lesson,”
and one thing was for sure, I hated life lessons, they sucked!

I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. I was making a weird
sobbing, hiccupping sound. I decided it was time to lick my wounds, get out of
this building and try to find a way back to the airport. It was at that moment
that I realized that Ryder had everything I had brought with me. My carry-on
bag with my change of clothes, my purse and laptop, my cellphone, and God help
me, my panties. Talk about being at someone’s mercy. God, I’m an idiot!

I placed my right hand on the tiled floor beside me, and
pushed myself up. I used my left hand to brace myself against this wall. After
everything that happened today, I was no longer sure of myself. I wasn’t even
sure I could trust that I would be able to get up by myself, let alone walk!

I took another ragged breath, trying to draw as much oxygen
into my lungs as I possibly could, they complained with the effort. I walked
through the door that lead me back into the main lobby on the first floor, and
blinked heavily as I entered the stark yet professional lobby. It seemed like a
lifetime had passed since I last walked through this room and yet it had barely
been an hour. An hour and my whole life had been shattered into little tiny
pieces, some of which I didn’t think I would ever find or replace.

I straightened my spine and braced my shoulders, steeling
myself for whatever lay ahead. I headed for the main doors, when I heard my
name called. I turned so rapidly, I’m surprised I didn’t fall over. It was Mrs.
Palmer standing at the information desk.

“Ms. Bendis, Can I speak to you for a moment?”

I hesitated, my face a mix of shock, confusion, and
embarrassment.

“Please, it’ll only take a moment and I think it will be of
help to you.” Her expression was one of sympathy. Great, now I‘ve got people
feeling sorry for me. I started a slow, agonizing walk toward her. I guess she
was impatient. She began walking toward me and reached me long before I was
really ready to face her.

“Ms. Bendis, I won’t pretend to have any idea about what
has transpired between you and Mr. Madsen. However, I can see that you are
upset, and I am truly sorry for any misunderstandings, and or discomforts that
may have occurred to you, or at your expense.”
Her face
showing sincere concern.

I blankly blinked at her.
Misunderstandings?
Misunderstandings?
Part of me wanted to
scream at her, and yet another part was just too tired and hurt to care
anymore. I blinked again, and she continued talking.

“It has come to my attention that you are without your
personal items originally brought with you, when you began this journey. From
one woman to another, I am truly sorry…I can’t do anything about getting you
your things back, but I hope you’ll allow me to help you get home.”

Again, I stood there looking stupid and blinked at her. She
handed me an envelope with my name written in flourished handwriting, almost
like calligraphy. I looked down at her extended hand and blinked again. I
looked back up at her with my blank expression. She gently picked up my hand
and placed the envelope into it.

“Think of this as a sort of advance on your next book. I
have a feeling that it will be a much more powerful story.” And with that, she
turned on her heel and left me standing there looking stupid.

I looked down at my hand and the envelope, not knowing if I
should open it or not. I took another deep breath, kicked my pride in the ribs,
and opened the envelope. Inside were boarding instructions for a private flight
home, cash, and another slip of paper. I started to yell at her that she could
tell Mr. Madsen that he could take his private jet and shove it into a place
that would surely cause my Gram to cringe. But then I remembered that I didn’t
have my purse, my ID, my plane ticket, my cell phone… God… I am an
idiot
!
How in the hell did I lose myself so much that I trusted him enough, to not
only give up my panties, but also my purse, ID, cell phone, all of my
belongings! Stupid,
stupid
! Realization that I was effectively stranded
smacked me upside my head with such a
force,
I was
surprised that I wasn’t knocked out. I looked back inside the envelope and
pulled out the second slip of paper, on it I read: “Outside you will find a cab
waiting to take you to the airport.”

Well, Mrs. Palmer had thought of everything. My shoulders
slumped. I felt as if I had lost my best friend or my very soul, I wasn’t sure
which. I headed out the doors and sure as shit, there was a cab right out
front. The cab driver was leaning against the front passenger door, holding a
sign that had my name on it.

“That’s me, I’m Maeve Bendis.” My voice was a weird mix of
dying frog and broken glass.

The cab driver never said a
word,
he simply leaned over and opened the back passenger door for me. I placed my
right hand on the top of the open door and took a step to get into the car. I
stopped, turning back toward the
building,
I glanced
up to the windows of the floor where Ryder’s Publishing House was located. It
must have been the sun glinting off of those
windows,
I could have sworn that I saw Ryder standing at the window, looking down at me.
Yep, it had to have been the sun, after everything Ryder had done to
me,
there was no reason for him to be looking out for me.
Shaking my head, I eased into the back seat. The cabbie shut my door, strolled
around to his door, got in, put the car into gear, we left.

The drive to the airport was dead silence. The cabbie kept
glancing at me in the rear view mirror, but he never said a word. We reached
the drop off area of the airport. I reached into the envelope, pulled out a
twenty-dollar bill and handed it to him. The cabbie actually looked at the
money and then at me as if it
were
covered in poison.

“It’s already been taken care of, miss.” He grunted as he
opened his door. I watched in total disbelief as he came around, and opened my
door. He held out his hand to help me out of the car. “Have a safe trip.” He
uttered as he tipped his hat at me.

Once I was out of the car, he slammed the car door behind
me, and took off practically running back around the car to his door. Jumping
inside and slamming his door he took off as if I might somehow ruin his stellar
reputation.

I sighed, placed the twenty dollars back into the envelope,
and took out the boarding instructions. I fought back a sob, and overwhelming
tears, screwed up my courage, and walked through the airport doors.

 
 
 

Chapter Seven

 
 

The flight home was quiet and relatively pleasant. The
pilot actually came to me and expressed his pleasure at being able to take me
home. I tried to smile, but I think it came off as a weak, watery version. The
stewardess tried to make conversation, but stopped when I could only give her
one word answers.

Making my way through the throngs of happy people in the
terminal only broke my heart even more. And here I thought I hated airports
before…huh…I was so wrong.

I made it outside only to see a different cab, with a
different driver, holding up his own sign with my name on it. I walked up to
him, “That’s
Me
. I’m Maeve Bendis.”

Smiling, he opened my door, softly closing it as I got
situated in my seat. As he was closing his door, I leaned forward, about to
tell him my address. He held up a hand, “It’s all been taken care of.” He put
the car into gear and drove away from the reminder of one of the most confusing
days of my life. I couldn’t help but think that if Mrs. Palmer planned all of
this in that short of an amount of time, she was indeed a great friend to have.
If she didn’t, well—well, I didn’t want to think about who might have made
these arrangements for me, and what that might mean about them. I settled back into
my seat, anxious to get home and get this day over with.

 

* * * *

 

I walked into the house, and tossed the spare key that I
kept hidden in the front yard, onto the side table inside the front door.
Walking over to the couch, I flopped onto it and started crying again. Just how
long does feeling like a fool last?

That thought had just crossed my mind when the phone
started ringing. I looked at the caller ID, but didn’t recognize the number. I
really didn’t want to talk to anyone, so I let it ring, waiting for the
answering machine to pick it up. Hell, if it was important, they would leave a
message, right?

BOOK: Hell in a Handbasket - The Journey
5.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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