The Sweetest Revenge Read online

  Chapter Thirteen

  On Monday, October 28th, at nine a.m., I opened the door to the development department and walked inside. I was wearing a cream-colored suit and aqua heels. My new aqua leather purse was slung over my shoulder. I nodded my head at Stacey. Everyone’s eyes were on me as I walked through their domain and strode all the way back to the corner office, overlooking a little courtyard.

  After I was settled in my new office, I buzzed my new secretary, Linda Beasley, and asked her to come in. She walked through my door with a pad and pen in her hand.

  “Please sit down,” I gestured at the chair in front of my desk. “I’d like to have a meeting of all of the staff this afternoon in the conference room. Could you arrange that for three?”

  Linda nodded.

  “I’ve been gone a while,” I said. “I need to be caught up on where we are with marketing and communication efforts and annual fund and major gift endeavors. Is there a way you can get me up to speed?”

  “I keep everybody’s weekly reports on my computer,” Linda said. “I could print those out for you.”

  “That would be a great start,” I said. “And Linda, could you get some sort of snacks for our meeting with some coffee and soft drinks? And water?”

  “Of course,” Linda said.

  After Linda left, I turned to the computers behind by desk, a Mac and a Windows. I had insisted on both, and they were brand new. The tech guy had put all of the necessary programs on each, and set my email back up.

  I spent the morning reviewing the weekly reports from the department heads that I was now supervising: annual fund, major gifts, marketing. There was no report from the director of communications because that had been me. I had told Steve that I wanted to hire the new director.

  Linda brought me a turkey sandwich from the student center and I sat at my desk during lunch. By three o’clock, I was ready for the meeting.

  I walked into the conference room. Everyone sat around the table, looking at me expectantly. I had to become a leader, and that was scary to me.

  Sheldon, the head of graphic design sat two seats away from me. Blonde Ambition sat opposite from him on the other side of the table. Carly sat on my right, and Linda sat on my left to take notes.

  “Thank you for coming today,” I started. “I’ve been gone for a while and I hope that each of you will feel free to keep me informed. I’d like to have a weekly meeting every Tuesday at ten. I would like to have your weekly reports to me by three on Monday, so I have time to review them before our meeting. As we move forward in this department, I hope that we can work together for the greater good—promoting our university in the best ways that our skills lead us. I look at all of you now, and see nothing but talent. I’ve read your reports, but I’d like each of you to tell me what’s going on in your area.”

  And, one by one, they told me where they were with marketing, publications, and fundraising. After the reports, we all ate donuts and drank coffee, talking casually among ourselves. I felt it had been a successful meeting when I got back to my office at four thirty-five. I called Steve right away.

  “We need a director of communications and I’d like that to be Carly Millings. She’s got a lot of experience from that college in North Carolina, and she’s been with us for a while now. But we’ll need to hire a communications specialist to replace her current position.”

  What else could Steve say but okay? It was part of my contract that I could hire the people in my department. And I was promoting Carly.

  I was tired when I got home. It had been so long since I’d kept regular hours, I was going to have to adjust to it. I changed into my gown and fed Midnight. I made a salad and a glass of wine. When I was finished eating I went to bed.

  The next morning, I called Carly into my office.

  “I’ve got so many different areas to look after now,” I told her,” that I can’t focus entirely on communications. That’s my first love, of course. But we’ve got to have someone overseeing that department.”

  “I know,” Carly said. “I thought they had interviewed a few people after you. . . left.”

  “That’s true. And I’ve reviewed the resumes of those qualified candidates. But I really want to work with someone that I know and trust. Someone that I know can do the job we need to get done.”

  “Do you have anybody in mind?” Carly asked. She looked so innocent as she sat in the leather chair looking at me.

  “I certainly do,” I said smiling at her. “You. I want you to be the director of communications. You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”

  Carly looked like she might start crying, but she pulled herself together.

  “Are you offering me that job?” she asked.

  “I definitely am offering you the job. It comes with a thirty percent raise over what you’re making now. I don’t have to tell you that it’s hard and stressful work. You’ll have to work overtime even more than you do now. You’ll have to attend all of the events. You’ll have to oversee the production of every single publication that leaves this office. Are you up for it?”

  Carly stood up and looked me straight in the eyes. “I’m up for it,” she said.

  “HR will be in touch this afternoon,” I said. “You can go ahead and start moving your things into my old office. It’s a pretty good place, as I recall.”

  And that was my good deed for the day. I had taken the university’s offer, but I was also on a mission. A mission to make my workplace tolerable and empathetic. Rewarding to those who deserved it. I didn’t have to be there, and I was going to do the best I could to change that little world as long as I was there.

  After three weeks of work, I was in charge of the department. We had our weekly meetings, I looked at spreadsheets from Blond Ambition, I commented on the copy for brochures and press releases, and I approved the graphics.

  That’s when Steve called me and said that Keith Richmond wanted to meet with me in the mountains. I would take the necessary papers with me, and, if satisfied, Mr. Richmond would sign them. Mr. Richmond would provide the notary.

  “Who else is going?” I asked Steve.

  “No one,” he said. “He wants to keep it cozy. I get the feeling he’s a pretty suspicious person. Doesn’t trust easily.”

  “I’ll meet him,” I said. What else did I have to do? A road trip to the mountains sounded cleansing somehow.

  “I know it’s the day before Thanksgiving,” Steve said.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  He’s expecting you at two at the company headquarters.”

  The next morning, I poured a lot of dry cat food into Midnight’s bowl and gave her a Fancy Feast. I was wearing my black suit and a magenta top. I tied it all together with my magenta heels.

  When I arrived at Richmond Industries, a very large and exquisite log cabin, the secretary led me back to Keith Richmond’s office. He was standing behind his desk when I walked in and I could see surprise register on his face.

  “Ms. Sullivan,” he said leading me to a leather couch. “I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t recognize you.”

  We sat down and he looked at me. “But I do recognize those blue eyes,” he said. “I’ll never forget them.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. “Thank you,” I murmured.

  I handed him the papers.

  “Yes, they’ve emailed these to me. I’m ready to sign them today,” he said. “It’s in remembrance of my mother.”

  He stood and called his secretary in from his phone. He sat down beside me again and signed the papers. His secretary notarized them, then took them off to be copied and mailed.

  “I was hoping I could take you out to dinner,” he said. “I know you might have Thanksgiving plans.”

  “I have no plans,” I said. He looked at me with surprise but didn’t question me.

  “I’ve arranged a room for you at the lodge, if you need to stay overnight. That’s where we’ll be dining.”

  I thought about M
idnight for a few seconds, but I had left her plenty of food.

  “Okay,” I said. I couldn’t stop looking at his silvery gray eyes.

  “You can follow me over there and check in. I’ll come back at seven for dinner.”

  He stood and held out his hand. I took it and felt a surge of warmth and energy enter into my bloodstream. I was almost panting when I stood up. I followed him out of the office and into the parking lot.

  “I’ll pull around to the front here and you can follow,” he said.

  I got in my car and backed out, waiting in the front for him. I had a few seconds to wonder what I was doing, but before I knew it, an old Ford truck pulled up along side my car. The green truck had seen better days. Its color was faded and I saw a few dings and dents. Must be a workman, I thought.

  And then Keith was waving at me, trying to get my attention. He was the driver of the truck! I waved back and got behind him. I followed him down the windy mountain road. He turned right at the bottom of the incline and we traveled along a forest-lined two-lane road until he pulled into a long driveway. We were going up the mountain again.

  A huge log cabin complex came into view. Keith pulled into a circular drive with me right behind him. He jumped out of his truck and came to open my door.

  I laughed as we walked up to the lodge’s front entrance. “I don’t even have a suitcase,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting to stay.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think about that. But there’s a little shop in the lodge. Just get what you need and put it on my account.”

  “Okay,” I said. I certainly was agreeable on this unforeseen journey I found myself on.

  We walked inside to the lobby. The vaulted log ceilings soared to a height that must have been twenty feet. A middle-aged balding man hurried over to us.

  “Paul, please take care of Ms. Sullivan,” Keith said. “She needs to visit the shop first, I think.”

  Keith looked at me and I nodded. What the hell was I doing? I should be on the road back to Midnight and a salad supper.

  Keith grabbed my hand and I felt that surge go through my body down to my very center again. I hadn’t felt that feeling, well, ever.

  “I’ll be back at seven,” he said. “We’ll dine in the lodge restaurant.”

  “Okay,” I said for the umpteenth time that day since I’d met with him.

  Paul escorted me to the lodge shop, which had toiletries, books, and articles of clothing. I got toothpaste and a toothbrush, a hairbrush, shampoo and conditioner, a pair of underwear, and a plain white nightgown. The woman working in the store put it all on Keith’s tab.

  The room was fairly simple. The walls were made of varnished logs. The furniture was a mixture of primitive and early American. The iron bed was covered in a beige comforter and a handmade quilt. The bathroom was glorious, with marble tile and a claw foot tub.

  I luxuriated in a bubble bath. I think I could have slept there, but the bed called my name. I wrapped myself in a towel and pulled the quilt over me. I woke up to the sound of the phone. I glanced at the clock and it was fifteen minutes after seven! I had slept right through the time I was supposed to meet Keith in the lobby.

  “Amy?” Keith said.

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” I said. “I fell asleep. I’ll be down in just a few minutes.”

  I hurriedly dressed in the suit I had worn—I had nothing else. I touched up my hair and applied some lipstick before I felt presentable. Keith was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. When I saw him standing there, waiting, I felt like a princess as I descended. I could feel his eyes on me as I stepped gracefully down the stairs.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as soon as I was standing in front of him.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “You must’ve needed the rest.”

  “I must have.”

  He took my arm. I wondered if he could feel the heat coming off of my body when he touched me. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest. I chided myself for being so unprofessional. I tried to calm myself down, stop my heart from beating so fast.

  But it did no good. I suddenly wished I had bought a dinner dress at the lodge store, one that would show off my cleavage.

  The maitre d’ led us to a corner table lit only with a candle. Keith sat down across from me and the light flickered across his handsome face. I smiled at him. I was beginning to feel giddy.

  Keith smiled back. The waiter brought a carafe of wine to the table, along with a plate of stuffed mushrooms. I realized I was starving. As I got a mushroom, I heard the tinkle of a piano. I noticed for the first time that a young man sat at a piano in a corner of the room.

  “So, tell me about yourself, Amy,” Keith said.

  I chewed my bite of mushroom and swallowed a sip of wine before I started talking.

  “There’s not much to tell,” I said. “You know where I work. I’ve been there for over fifteen years. I was married and now I’m divorced.”

  Now why’d I say that? But he wanted to know.

  “I’m sorry,” Keith said. “Was it recent?”

  “It’s been a few months,” I said. I really did not want to talk about Jim or my divorce. I just wanted to look at Keith’s gorgeous face. I wanted to look at his strong hands as he drank his wine. I wanted his hands to touch me again.

  The waitress brought menus, saving me from having to discuss my failed marriage further.

  “The trout amandine is the specialty here,” Keith said.

  I looked at the menu and saw the trout came with a honey citrus sauce on the side and was served with wild rice and sautéed sweet peas. We both ordered the trout.

  Keith didn’t press me about my marriage. The conversation became easy after that. He told me about growing up on the mountain, his early marriage in his twenties that his mother had disapproved of.

  “My ex-wife couldn’t take the isolation on the mountain,” Keith said. “It only lasted a couple of years. The only thing I regret now that I’m forty, is that I don’t have any children.”

  I regretted that for myself, too.

  “But better not to have them if I’m divorced,” he finished.

  I nodded agreement. That was better. I was starting to realize that Keith and I were both lonely in our lives. Maybe not a great thing to have in common.

  There were two other couples in the dining room, and near the end of our meal, they both got up and started to dance. I looked over at them and wondered why they were at the lodge and not with family on Thanksgiving.

  “We usually have people staying at the lodge over holidays,” Keith said.

  “We?” I asked.

  “Oh, well. Richmond Industries owns this lodge.”

  “Oh,” I said. Of course they did.

  We had finished our meal and were on our second carafe of wine. Keith stood up and asked me if I’d like to dance. I blushed. I had not danced for years. Jim and I used to dance sometimes, but not often.

  “I don’t really dance,” I said.

  “Of course you do,” Keith said. He held out his hand and I took it, feeling the electricity run through my body when I touched him.

  He led me to the area where the other couples were dancing and took me in his arms with authority. Even though I was wearing my heels, he towered over me. The piano player was playing some classics that I recognized but couldn’t name. Keith moved me expertly around the dance area. I loosened up and put my head on his chest. I could smell him through his jacket. He had an earthy smell, like woods and spice, mountains and fresh air.

  We danced through three songs. On the last dance, I looked up at Keith and he looked at me with those magical silvery eyes. I smiled at him. He lowered his head and brushed my lips with his. It was like lightening. I didn’t pull away and he brushed them again before he settled and parted my lips with his warm wet tongue.

  My tongue met his and we twirled our tongues together as he moved me gently around the dance floor. I was glued to the power of his kiss. Sealed to his lips. When he finally
pulled his away—agony—I looked around and saw that we were the only couple in the room.

  My legs were weak and I felt a longing coursing through me when Keith led me back to our table. Chocolate soufflés with whipped cream with chocolate curls were on the table. Keith poured more wine into my glass. I picked up the spoon and ladled soufflé and whipped cream to my mouth. I ate it, looking at Keith the whole time. I licked the cream off of my mouth. I felt so brazen in my desire for him, but I didn’t care. I giggled just a little and he laughed softly.

  He smiled at me. We smiled at each other as we ate our soufflé. And then he stood up and took my hand in his. We left the dining room and walked up the stairs to my room. A bottle of champagne was in an ice bucket on the dresser. Keith popped the cork and poured two glasses into tall flutes. He picked up a fresh strawberry that was in a silver bowl and pressed it against my mouth. I parted my lips and took a bite.

  Keith leaned down and took possession of my mouth, which was juicy with strawberry. Our tongues found each other again in a rhythmic circling that never let go. He found my side zipper and slipped it down. I was momentarily terrified. My old fat self was mortified at being nude. But I told myself I wasn’t fat anymore as my slacks slipped to the floor.

  Keith pushed up against me and I could feel his hardness. I reached down my hand and felt it, rubbed it, as it strained against his pants.

  And then he surprised me by picking me up and carrying me to the bed. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t huffing and puffing and straining, but he wasn’t. He laid me gently on the comforter and reached for the elastic waist of my panties. He pulled them off before he unbuttoned my suit jacket and removed it. After he pulled my top over my head, I reached for his zipper, pulling it down and touching him through his boxers.

  He stood and removed his pants and boxers, then his jacket and shirt. I was pleased to see well-developed muscles in his arms. Muscles that would be enfolding me as I gave myself to him.

  And then we were both completely naked. He brought his body close to mine and rubbed himself against me. My breasts felt so full; my nipples were aroused, waiting. He put his mouth to one and grazed it with his lips. He caressed it with his tongue, then sucked it gently before moving to the other one. It was delicious! He touched me all over, his hands moving smoothly across my body. I was on fire wherever his hand was and aching for his touch where it wasn’t.