Baiting & Fishing Page 21
Chapter 21
Ray was surprised to learn when he arrived at work the next day that it was very well known around the newsroom where he had been and with whom. He didn't understand how that happened. He had not told anyone where he was going. He found it hard to believe Marcella might have spread the word. He couldn't figure it out, but he was annoyed and irritated with the comments from his colleagues and flat out pissed off when the feature editor suggested he do a “what I did on my vacation” story. He told her to go to hell and said he had calls to make.
He called Victoria from his cell phone and suggested an early lunch. He offered to bring sandwiches from Dick's. She told him to skip the sandwiches and come straight over. She said she would make them something whenever they got hungry.
He waited until after she poured his coffee, and took a small package out of his pocket. He said, “I bought these from the guy who sells carved stuff out of that boat shack on Siesta Key. He actually gave me a really good deal because he said the publicity he got from a feature I wrote about him dramatically increased his local business. He told me that what he liked even better was that the cops had stopped hassling him once they learned he was a crazy artist and not merely a bum. Anyway, you're the only person I know who might actually use something like this. I thought they were beautiful.”
She opened the package and found eight napkin rings, hand carved from drift wood and polished to perfection. Each one was different. There was a circle of dolphins following one another. Another was sea turtles marching behind one another. Victoria gasped and then said, “These are exquisite. Thank you so much!”
He grinned, “And thank you for not adding that lame 'you didn't have to do this' statement.”
She kissed his cheek. “I do appreciate your thoughtfulness.” She paused again and said, “In all the years we've been acquainted we had never met. Now we have become friends. I bought you something also.”
She left the room and was gone for quite some time. She came back with a small box, wrapped simply in red foil with a green ribbon. Inside he found six of the kind of lures used for tarpon fishing. He grinned, “Oh my gosh! Thanks. I love tarpon fishing. I will use these... Knowing the way I fish I'll probably lose every one of them in the mangroves. I get snagged all the time. But, I'll have a great time doing it!”
They chatted for a while, then she asked with an unsuccessful attempt to sound casual, “How was your holiday?”
He raised his eyebrows, “I take it you know where I went, and with whom?”
“Yes.”
“Who told you? I didn't tell a soul but when I got back to the paper, everybody knew about it. I can't imagine that Marcella told anyone. First of all, who would she tell? And secondly, why?”
“Actually she did tell people. Quite a number of people as a matter of fact.”
“What?”
“I heard it from her hairdresser, who is very good by the way. I'm sticking with him. My next door neighbor heard it from the masseuse at the country club. Apparently Mrs. Wilson was so excited to be jetting off with you for Christmas, she mentioned it to virtually every one she talked to the week before you left.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I have no idea! I was hoping you would have some sort of explanation. Marcella had always been very discreet, according to the people who knew her in Atlanta. She was a member of the Buckhead Club and never once expressed a confidence to a masseuse. I know because I checked it out.”
“I can't imagine why she would want people to know we were going away together.”
“What about if she thought you were about to spill some information about her and she could damage your credibility by letting people know you were intimate. If you wrote something negative about her in the paper, the next thing we would hear is how she jilted you and you are getting even.”
“That is very unkind.”
“I think you are not objective where she is concerned. Intentional or not, it's a nice ace for her to have in the hole.”
He chuckled, “Don't tell me you play poker.”
She nodded. “I am actually a very, very good poker player. You, my friend, would stink at it. You have the most expressive face. I can tell what you are thinking before you say a word. I would bet Marcella can do so as well.”
She poured more coffee and brought out some cookies. “In any case, we shall probably never know why she told people. If her motives were less than honorable, I doubt she would admit it. My question to you is, did you have a good time?”
He pondered that question for a while, munching on a cookie for something to do, “Yes, I had a wonderful time. We fished. We swam. The house we stayed in was spectacular. We were on an island all alone. It was great.”
“You're not very convincing.”
“I mean it. We did have fun. Especially the first few days. Towards the end we had a conversation that left me troubled.”
“You argued?”
“Sort of. It wasn't an argument as much as it was an impasse. I think we each reached the farthest edge of the worlds we inhabit.”
“Did those worlds meet?”
“Not quite.”
“I am so very sorry.”
He smiled and shrugged, “Maybe we can build a bridge.”
She did not respond. Ray tried not to notice the dubious look in her eyes.
After lunch, he stopped in some of his usual spots. He was amazed to find that everybody knew what he had been up to. He put up with all the razzing he could stand and then he headed home. He called Marcella on the way and invited her to come to his house for a run and dinner at Dick's. She agreed to meet him in half an hour.
They were not in the habit of talking while they ran. They both liked to run a little too hard for that. Over a pitcher of beer at Dick's he asked casually, “Did you tell anybody where we were going?”
“No, why?”
He shook his head and said, “It's the weirdest thing. Everybody I talked to today knew where I had been for the holiday. They also knew who I was with.”
She looked shocked, “How on earth did they find out?”
“I dunno. Who, besides us, knew?”
“As far as I know, only the pilot and the chauffeur. The pilot has been with me for years. He lives in Orlando. I doubt he even knows anybody here to tell the story to. The chauffeur's a local. I've always thought he was cheeky. I will fire him tomorrow.”
“You don't know it was him.”
“Who else could it be?”
He wanted to cry.
She invited him back to her place, but he begged off. He said he had a ton of personal email to read and bills to pay, which was true, but not the whole story. She called for her car. They alternately chatted and necked on the couch until the car came.
At the door, he promised to call her the next day. She shook her head, “I have to go away for a few days.” She ran her hand across his eyes, “Wipe that look off your face! I'm not going off on a job. Actually, I am going to New York for a few days. I ordered some clothes before Christmas. I need to go for a fitting.”
“You go all the way to New York to buy your clothes?”
“Personally, I prefer to shop in Rome, but I haven't found myself in Italy recently, so I ordered some things from a couple of New York designers.”
He shook his head and grinned, “I guess I'll accept that. Given that I sort of went to the Jimmy Buffet school of fashion, I don't get it.”
“Thank you for being kind and not bitching me out for my extravagance.”
He shrugged, “It's your money. Who am I to tell you how to spend it?”
After she left he sat in the dark for a very long time wondering why in the hell she lied to him.