Chapter Forty-six
Olivia sits in her car,its engine running, near the corner of Royal Palm Way and South County Road, taking deep breaths and trying to convince herself that she’s doing the right thing.
It’s not that she doesn’t believe her husband, or that she’s checking up on him. Although, of course, that’s exactly what she’s doing. It’s just that she has to make sure. She has to still the nagging voices in her head telling her that Sean is being, at best, less than honest about his new position. There are simply too many inconsistencies, coupled with too many excuses. Too much vagueness. Not enough concrete details.
“No, it’s not a good idea to phone me at the office. I’m so busy learning the ropes, and the company discourages personal calls during the workday.” “No, I can’t show you my new office. Maybe in a month or two. When things settle down. When I’m not so new.” “No, I really can’t discuss the projects I’m working on or the clients I’m working with. Everything is highly confidential.”
“I don’t understand,”Olivia has said on more than one occasion.“It’s not like you’re working for the CIA.”
“Feels like it sometimes,”came Sean’s instant rejoinder.“Honestly, hon. There’s really nothing to tell.”
Okay,Olivia thinks. She kind of understands his reticence when it comes to talking strategy or discussing clients. But Sean has been equally vague about the people he works with. True, he’s only been at Advert-X just over a week, so it’s a little early to be passing judgment on his co-workers, but come on. Not even a “This one is a real gem” or “That one is a royal pain in the ass.” No recounting a funny story, no venting of minor frustrations. Not even any real excitement about being back in the saddle after such a long layoff, no understandable worries about his performance or how he’s being perceived.
She remembers how excited she’d been when she went back to work, how nervous she’d been about whether she was doing a good job, and how she couldn’t wait to get home to share the details of her day with Sean. Nothing was too small or unimportant to leave out. No tidbit too inconsequential. No anecdote too dull.
Sean had been the same way at his old job. He’d come home every day full of stories and office gossip. He’d never been shy about voicing an opinion, no matter how premature, or offering up his two cents when he disagreed. He’d never given two hoots about being discreet.
Which was maybe why he’d been let go, Olivia thinks now, deciding she’s being ridiculous, that this little detour into Palm Beach is both unfair to her husband and a waste of her time.
She checks her watch. Almost four o’clock. She was on her way home from a meeting with clients in Fort Lauderdale when the impulse hit to surprise Sean with a visit. Olivia shakes her head, knowing she’s not being truthful. It’s one thing to lie to others, another thing entirely to lie to yourself.
And the truth is that this idea has been germinating in her brain ever since Saturday night, when Erin dropped that bombshell about seeing Sean’s clone at the beach.
God, the look on Sean’s face!
Olivia might not have given the matter much thought had it not been for his over-the-top reaction, the unexpected flash of anger in his eyes, his overly vehement denial.“What? No! Whoever you saw, it definitely wasn’t me.”And then losing his grip on the tongs, dropping the hot dog…
Combined with his reluctance to share his good news with the neighbors, his drinking, the lies he’s already told…
So here she sits, near the corner of Royal Palm Way and South County Road, two buildings—one white and one bubble-gum pink—away from the bright yellow, six-story structure that is home to Advert-X. All she has to do is get out of the car and go inside.Hi, honey. I just happened to be in the neighborhood….
“Screw it.” She turns off the engine and climbs out of the car.What’s the worst that can happen?she wonders, marching toward the entrance without considering the answer.
The small lobby is all large white marble tile and sleek black leather furniture. Olivia approaches the directory beside the elevator, noting that Advert-X occupies the building’s top two floors. She presses the button and waits while the elevator descends, then steps back to let its two occupants—one male, one female, both young and the epitome of cool—exit. She nods hello, feeling slightly dowdy in her navy cotton dress and matching cardigan. No wonder Sean felt the need to buy that crazily overpriced jacket.
She presses the button for the fifth floor and watches the small TV in the upper right corner of the elevator flashing the latest in headlines, weather, and stock market returns. In the few seconds it takes to reach the fifth floor, she learns that Bank of America stock is up, today’s temperature hit a high of ninety-three sweltering degrees, and there was a mass shooting in Iowa that left fourteen people dead and another sixteen injured.
The elevator doors open to reveal a picture straight out of a design magazine: floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a magnificent vista of palm trees and purple bougainvillea, slate-gray marble floors, exposed steel girders, and a stunning, giant knotted-pine staircase suspended from the floor above. Six legless armchairs in a variety of DayGlo colors are grouped haphazardly around a large wooden coffee table in the middle of a royal blue area rug across from a reception desk made from the same huge wooden planks as the staircase behind it. “This is spectacular,” Olivia says to the young male receptionist, whose chin-length blue-black hair is cut on the diagonal.
“Isn’t it fabulous? We just love it,” he enthuses. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Sean Grant.”
“Sean Grant,” the young man repeats, turning the name over on his tongue. “Don’t recognize the name. Do you happen to know what department he’s in?”
“He’s in Strategy.”
The receptionist scrolls through his computer. “I’m not seeing him.”
“He’s new. Just started last week.”
“You’re sure he’s in Strategy?”
“I thought so, but I could be mistaken. Maybe they call it something else.”
“No, they call it Strategy.” The receptionist smiles. “And he’s with this office?”
“You have other offices?” Olivia asks hopefully.