Chapter 10

Michael

I am finding myself thinking more and more about Mac. This is leaving me totally confused. I’ve been telling myself that I’m not interested in a permanent relationship, but I’m beginning to see that I’m lying to myself. I really don’t think I’ve changed my mind about a permanent relationship, but then I never expected that Mac would have this effect on me. I can feel my territorial boundaries being invaded every time I think of her being with someone else, even if it’s only on a friendship basis. I know that now that she’s out of a female only college, it’s only a matter of time until she comes across someone in whom she could become interested. After all, she went from college to that guy who stood her up, and now she’s free-floating.

I ask myself whether it’s the idea of her being a prize that I don’t want anyone else to get to, or whether she’s simply really the right girl for me. Oh, God, just listen to me. I’m getting as soppy-brained as a teenage boy on the prowl. This isn’t like me, and I can see it’s beginning to interfere with business.

I need to moderate these new feelings cropping up inside me. I roll my eyes at myself. I’m a man, fully grown, and capable of accomplishing almost anything I want to. Yet, my insides feel like hot sap; just a gooey mess inside. It’s ridiculous that anything can get hold of me this way.

So, I decide I’m going to go to the country club and do a little networking. I’m still open to partners for the retirement village conversion project. I’ll nose around and see who might be a candidate.

* * *

Checking in at the counter, they tell me there’s a foursome missing a fourth. They asked if I would like to join up with that group and I tell them that will be just fine. The guy behind the counter indicates they’re just about to tee off so I grab my bag and shoes, throw them in a cart and head that way.

To my surprise, the man I met last time, Mr. Duncan, is part of the group. Recognizing me, he invites me to partner with him. I’m hoping he’s interested in investing, so I accept. It’s not his money I need; I have enough of that. I am looking for people with connections and ability to leverage the responsibility a project this size can include.

The others tee off, and I stand to the back, watching their drives and calculating whether I want to allow Duncan to win. Most people don’t understand the subtleties of golf, especially in a business situation. Manipulating the game to win or to lose, or even just a single hole, can be part of the strategy in developing relationships. None of us will go on the pro circuit, so we create our own competitive atmosphere.

I tee off, and my ball lands near Duncan’s. We both set off in our carts, and as he is setting up for his next shot, he begins talking over her shoulder as though he’s practicing on his swing. “Funny, but were your ears burning yesterday because my wife and I were talking about you with our daughter?”

“Is that so?” I wasn’t terribly fond of parents trying to hook me up with their daughter, as their idea of attraction was often different than mine.

He nods. “I think you’ve heard about my daughter’s recent fiasco. Her fiancé stood her up at the altar.”

I say nothing but continue to listen as my mind is ticking off facts that are quickly adding up.

“Yeah, Mac, that’s my daughter, just got her degree at Wellesley, and the wife wants to send her off to Paris, but the girl is a little headstrong and decided she wants to find a job instead. She got hired into some gallery, one of those Bohemian things; I haven’t seen it. At first, I felt bad for her, getting stood up and all, then I realized the guy was quite a jerk, and I was glad that she never married him. So, we were telling her about you, and I’ll be real honest, I think you two might hit it off.”

Why hadn’t I seen this coming? All the facts are there, and I can’t believe that I didn’t see it. This is my Mac’s father! Of course, what an idiot I am! The names, the circumstances, it all makes sense. This just shows me how confused I am; I can’t even add two plus two and come up with four.

Damn! Now I don’t know what to do. Do I tell them that I know his daughter? I sure as hell can’t tell him how well I know her. He’s going to find out, eventually. One thing I have to admit: Mac and I sure do have a talent for getting caught in our lies. I can’t honestly say this is a lie because I haven’t said anything untrue. As a matter of fact, I’m not saying anything at all. Does that still qualify as a lie? I know damn well in my heart that yes, it does. It will result in his resenting the fact that I’m not saying anything. What if it should get back to Mac? It can really hurt her feelings that I didn’t admit to her dad that we see each other. The best thing I can do is to keep my mouth shut. They can all interpret that however they want to. Duncan swings, and his ball rolls into the rough. I step up to mine, and it lands on the green. Yes, I’m going to take this as a sign that I’m making the right decision.

The game is over, and Duncan invites me back to the clubhouse for beer. I’ve got through the game, and even though it went against my competitive nature, I let him win. Maybe my guilt is letting me believe that this makes us even. I know it’s silly; I just have to give myself a break. This is the part I should be waiting for, where we do the networking. Under the circumstances, however, he’s not a good partner for me. There are too many things at stake. I give him a salute with the flat of my hand and tell him that I have to get back to the office. He seems disappointed. I think he wanted to talk more about his daughter, while I wanted to talk about the investment project. So, it’s all working out just fine since we were intent on two different things.

I head home and stow away my golf paraphernalia. The closet at the guesthouse isn’t nearly as big as that at the main house where I usually store it, but I can make do. There is a tray with lunch on the table and a small pile of mail. I appreciate that Mort is looking after me. The intricacies of the mess that I’m creating are beginning to make me feel a little crazy. I cannot get my mind off Mac.

I make myself a cup of coffee and carry it with my lunch out to the small patio. Pulling out my phone, I tap Mac’s phone number. She isn’t answering, and there’s almost a sense of relief because I’d rather leave my invitation in voicemail in case she wants to turn me down. I tell her I’d like to see her again, and I’m up for whatever she likes to do, so just call me back. Her voice on the recording is sweet, and I remember hearing it in my ear. I can’t let myself think like this. When a woman gets in the way of business for me, that’s a signal that I have to back off. This is silly, I think as I eat my lunch.

My phone vibrates, and I grab it instantly. It’s a text from Mac.

MAC: Just got your message. Yes, I’d like that, too. What if I swing by after work?

MICHAEL: I look forward to it. See you then.

How fickle is the heart? Thirty seconds ago, I was ready to dump her so I can get on with business. She sends me a few little magical words in a text, and now here I’m sitting with a hard on and an eye on the clock. This woman is definitely having an effect on me.

I finish my lunch, decide to go in and take a shower and put on some clean clothes. I keep it casual because I’m not sure what she wants to do. I occupy my time with some busy work on the computer, but it’s difficult to keep my mind on it. I keep looking at that clock.

I’m startled when I finally hear a knock at the door, and I’m out of my chair and headed toward it before I get a chance to get nervous. The door is already opened, and I hear her call my name. There’s someone else standing behind her.

“Hi, there. I told you I’d stop by.”

“Of course! I’ve been expecting you.”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought my best friend to meet you. Abby, this is Michael. Michael, meet my best friend, Abby. We went to school together and were roomies. She was my maid of honor … well, never mind about that.”

I step forward and hold out my hand. Abby is considerably taller than Mac and angular in appearance. She certainly does not have the look of a debutante. “Nice to meet you, Abby,” I say, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. I was hoping that Mac and I are going to be alone, so this definitely calls for a change in plans. I try to catch Mac’s eye, hoping she’ll give me some idea of why she brought Abby along. I’m on my guard and wonder if I’ve read more into our time together than I should have. “Well, why don’t the two of you come in and let’s go out to the patio. I’ll get us some lemonade.”

“Do you need any help?” Mac asks.

“No, no, I’ve got it.” I had learned from my mom that when guests arrive, it’s always a good idea to serve them lemonade. I don’t have to bother with cream, sugar, or any other condiments. I send Mort a quick text and tell him to bring dinner for three; steaks, baked potatoes, and the works. I follow the girls out with my tray and hand each of them a glass. “I hope you girls like steak.”

Abby is speaking up for the first time. “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. Mac, this is a little embarrassing for me. You’ve made me the third wheel, and I don’t know why you insisted I come.”

I have to give Abby credit, she doesn’t mince words. I know this is the place where I speak up. “Abby, you are every bit as welcome here as Mac, and I mean that. I welcome the chance to get to know her best friend. I understand you work in a laboratory?”

Abby looks at Mac and then rolls her eyes as though Mac is beyond understanding. “I don’t think she’s very sure of what I do, to tell you the truth. I work in a medical laboratory, in theoretical studies. You might consider it a think tank for new approaches to the most pervasive diseases.”

“Really? I’m afraid on this one I’ll have to be in Mac’s column. Frankly, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal. You look at the data from related studies and put together an idea you might think works. I’m lucky. It’s like a big playroom with all the toys you could possibly want. There are a lot of people who would love to have my job.”

“Well, I’m sure they’re very lucky to have you. Mac has been bragging about you.”

Although Abby is pleasant, I’m near enough to Mac that I can smell her perfume, and I want to run my hand over her soft skin. Her hair is curling over her shoulder and down her slender back. There are light circles visible beneath her eyes. I wonder if I have anything to do with that. She certainly has a lot to do with mine.

It’s Abby’s turn. “I understand from Mac that you are in real estate development? Do you have a particular specialty?”

“Only that I come out ahead,” I say, testing Abby’s sense of humor. As it turns out, it’s pretty good.

“I suppose that’s better than coming out an ass.”

“Abby!” Mac says in quasi-horror. “That was rude!”

“I think Michael can take it,” she says with a smile, and I nod in agreement.

There is a tap at the door, and it opens as Mort enters, pushing a cart with silver domed trays through the house and onto the patio where we’re sitting.

“Oh, good, dinner’s here. I hope you’re both hungry?”

“I wish you hadn’t gone to all this trouble,” Mac says, and I’m trying to gauge whether she means she didn’t want dinner or is just being considerate.

“It wasn’t any trouble for me, was it, Mort?”

“No, sir.”

I see Abby’s eyebrows go up, and I’m guessing that she might’ve thought I am a guest or an employee and therefore not entitled to Mort’s services. I don’t want to chance an explanation now; Abby is pretty sharp, and she’s liable to spot any loose ends that don’t make sense.

Mort is serving the dinner, pouring each of us a glass of wine.

“So, Mac, tell me about your job,” I invite her.

Evidently, my interest pleases her as I see her face light up, and she begins to talk about the gallery and its work. I listen intently, making it a point to remember little details so I can bring them up again later to reassure her how important she is to me. Abby is watching us both, and I’m quite sure she is forming an opinion. I’m just hoping it’s positive when it comes to me.

Then it dawns on me that Abby is there for a reason. Maybe Mac doesn’t want to be alone with me? Is it possible that she’s not interested in any further relationship and just isn’t ready to spell that out? Is Abby here to keep a distance between us?

A massive silence grows between us. The only one moving is Mort, serving the dinner and busying himself with unfolding napkins and laying them in everyone’s lap. He is surveying the situation, and I’m embarrassed that this isn’t going as it should. I’m not used to women being cool toward me.

“Mac, maybe I could stop by the gallery one day, and you could show me around?”

Nodding, she warms to the idea. “Sure. I’d be happy to.”

“Are the pieces for sale, or just display?”

“You know, I’m not really sure, but I think both. That’s a good question. I’ve still got a lot to learn.”

Then comes the awkward silence again. I’m not sure whether to blame Abby or to accept the obvious that Mac is keeping me at a distance.

“Where’s your ladies’ room?” Abby is standing up and looking around.

“Mort, would you show our guest?”

“Of course, sir.”

They leave the patio, and I look at Mac with a question in my eyes, not sure if I want to vocalize it. What the hell. “Is everything okay?”

The question takes her by surprise it seems. “Yes … why wouldn’t it be?”

“I wondered why you brought Abby. Was there a reason for that?”

“Sure, there is. I wanted her to see how wonderful you are,” she says simply.

Suddenly, the sun comes out, and all my self-doubt melts away.

“Actually,” she continues … “there’s a favor I have to ask.”

“Anything. What can I do for you?”

She looks over her shoulder and then says, “Well, you’ve seen Abby now. You can tell she’s a great person, but her self-confidence is about as low as it gets. I was sort of hoping you might have a friend with whom she’d hit it off and then we could go on a double-date?”

I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath without making it apparent. “You’re right; she seems very nice. She’s also mega sharp, and that can work against her. She’s going to make guys feel intimidated.”

“I know. It’s been a problem. I’m out of solutions, and that’s why I’m reaching out to you.”

I don’t want to fail, not for any reason. “Let me give it some thought, huh?”

She nods, and Abby walks through the doorway and resumes her seat. I’m much more relaxed now, and when Mort comes to clear away the dishes, I suggest to the girls that maybe they’d like to go up to the main house and go swimming.

Mac shakes her head. “We didn’t come dressed for that, and I have to work in the morning. Can I take a rain check on that?”

“Of course! Next time then.” I’m feeling such relief at hearing she wants a rain check, it’s all I can think of.

The girls stand up and head to the door, thanking me for dinner. I put my arm around Mac, reinforcing my attachment so she understands I want her. Abby ignores us, and I’m guessing she’s used to Mac getting the attention. We exchange a little good-bye small talk, and then they are gone.

As the door closes, I turn, and Mort is tidying up. He seems as though he wants to say something. “Okay, out with it.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“The hell you don’t. I can tell. What is it?”

He clears his throat. “I think you may have met your match, sir.”

“What? Don’t be silly, Mort.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“Well, I do. I’m not ready to settle down if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No, sir, of course not … although, I didn’t bring up marriage. I simply think Ms. Mac is a nice woman and up to your standards.”

I don’t say anything. He’s caught me in a verbal trap, and it’s safer if I just don’t say anything.

Mort is wiser than he looks.