Something about Elle Ch. 06

Elle sat as if paralyzed for a moment as the shock of the moment seeped into her. She could see it clearly.

The emotional upsets between Donovan and her revolved around reality, misunderstanding and faulty assumptions and basically that amounted to failure to seek clarity on matters relating to their personal relationship.

They were both responsible for their lapses in interpersonal communication and were stubborn about being quick to seek realignment.

She was fully aware of what he was on about; he was assuming the offer he'd read had been accepted or was about to be accepted and the allegations of betrayal were leveled because she'd not had the decency to discuss the offer with him before reaching her decision.

The brutalized feeling a being victimized flowing through her, an unpleasant feeling she could well do without, especially since it was piled on her so unjustly.

She could run after him, but he was fatigued and now angry, not in a fit state to talk rationally about this; she'd talk to him in the morning.

Elle sighed.

She'd rarely used the term and did so now because of its appropriateness: "Life sucks at times."

Hannah was out to night with Romeo, a dinner dance and so would be home late.

Elle didn't wish to arrive at the empty apartment and thought she'd go out for a drink and then have dinner somewhere where a woman alone would be unlikely to be accosted. She had no idea where that was as this was LA!

Elle knew the floral dress she was unsuitable for evening wear and went shopping, buying a lightweight power blue high neck jacket and matching skirt, fancy black stockings and a new set of underwear.

She decided against buying shoes but on the return to the offices was seduced by a window display and chose a pair of high heels with black lace embedded into the tops. Those shoes had cost almost as much as all her other purchases.

Amazingly she arrived back at the offices feeling much happier. But that was scarcely true because she was a believer in shopping therapy.

Elle showered down in the small gym area, feeling less victimized and actually began humming as she dried herself. When dressed she felt like hitting the town and making it sing. No way would she let this hiccup in her personal relationship with Donovan get to her.

In a fairly quiet bar where females were outnumbered perhaps eight to one, Elle turned away two men eager to buy her a drink. The third didn't even offer to buy her anything; he just arrived beside her, announced "Do you mind?" and sat down before she had time to say "I'm waiting for my husband."

Gus was in insurance, talkative and confident and admitted to having 'a wife and two'. Presumable that meant two children, not two dogs.

Actually he was quite fascinating in a way. He said he often picked up women in bars and took them to dinner just for conversation and then would catch the 9:00 (he didn't say what) home for another dinner and then would be verbally spanked by his wife for being late home.

"What, with a broomstick?" chuckled Elle, which is when she found Gus whoever he was a little deprived of humor.

"No she uses her mom's ancient jam spoon," he said frowning.

"May I buy you a drink Gus?"

"Yes Bourbon straight. It's rare for a broad to offer."

"It's rare for a toady man to accept."

"Pardon me?"

"It's okay, Gus, remember you're only in insurance."

When Gus went to the men's room he waved a finger, "You won't scamper while I'm away, will you?"

"Oh, why would I do that Gus, when you're such a bundle of fun?" Elle retorted, already reaching for her handbag and fitting into her new shoes properly.

God little wonder a lot of the men were looking at her; the new bra had her hoisted as tight as a drum. Perhaps she could ask Gus to adjust the straps. That gave Elle the best giggle of the evening so far.

She - what did Gus call it? - scampered.

At the Greek restaurant Elle buried her loneliness by eating heavier food than she liked but usually avoided - moussaka with a salad that really was a meal on its own and then hunted for the walnuts in the semolina of her halva. She finished by taking only two sips of the Greek coffee, ordering it when she knew it was not her preference, but that's what she was like this evening - flaky.

When you're flaky you take risks because restraints and cautions lose their appeal, so she walked the so-called mean streets of Los Angeles wondering if Los Angeles bisects its main routes by packing in so many traffic lights to add to the city's appeal from the air. Thinking things like that at least kept her mind off Donovan. Instead she thought about his mom who possibly at that very moment was in her new lover's arms.

Elle smiled softly.

Walking the estimated seven miles with head bowed tragically probably wasn't a bad thing either, because not one of the few pedestrians she encountered came near or spoke, three groups of loitering youths - probably the worst danger - watched her silently as she could feel the stares.

Several cars slowed right down but she kept looking just ahead of her marching toes and they drifted away, with a soft toot of the horn a substitute for driver molestation.

Arriving home, more emotional than physically exhausted, Elle's only two main thoughts were she'd taken on the danger of the city and won, and she deserved a kick in the butt for being so stupid wandering the streets alone although just on the right side of midnight to avoid real creeps.

She felt so low, so lonely and felt the need for her beloved father. She tried to cry herself to sleep - sleep came but no tears - she knew it was her worst day ever in America; it was even worse than seeing the rounded ass raising itself over Donovan all those weeks ago because this time it was a pit of her own making - she should have destroyed that very private document itself.

How the fuck did Donovan manage to lay his hands on it?

Wallowing in near sleep she decided it didn't matter; Pamela wouldn't have given it to him as Pamela loved her in that way two women working closely together engineer mutual intimacies appropriate for a business partnership.

It didn't matter; it was done. Her mind told her she'd come out of this black pit a stronger woman.

For the next two days Elle's chirpiness lay lost inside her. Hannah experienced it first, clever enough to say just one word, "Donovan?" and the slow nod of confirmation pained her but her cleverness extended to keeping out of it.

At work she and Donovan circled each over maintaining an exaggerated distance like two kids who'd been whacked by their respective parents for having under-age sex. This was a setback, a temporary setback she kept telling herself, though that didn't do a great deal to uplift her spirit.

On the third day Donovan actually half-smiled when he replied to her correctly weighted greeting. He was wearing a brown jacket she hadn't seen before, a light blue open necked shirt, cream trousers and brown shoes a little lighter than his jack.

She thought he looked edible, and to her astonishment that stimulated her salivary glands and giggling silently at such a ridiculous outcome make her walk off a little more upbeat.

* * *

Donovan turned and stood admiring Elle's calves encased in new stockings judging by the pattern, he'd not seen them before. He entered his office unable to block a wildfire thought: he looked out at the skyline trying to imagine what the pattern at the top of her stockings looked like.

He knew he should not be thinking this about a woman who'd shafted him but what the hell, women were women and men were men.

He thought he knew what that last thought meant and went over and checked his emails, in particular looking for one which he'd been waiting for almost three days - a single word message: "Sorry." That's all she needed to send and his forgiveness process would be triggered.

Just wait patiently buddy, he told himself. Elle would know she'd treated him badly and she'd make the move. If he made the first move at reconciliation she'd never feel repentant. An example of that was the unforgiving way she went on about him with she chanced to see Milly's daughter whatshername making her play for him.

Just before noon the unsmiling Elle entered Donovan's office with a request from a client for removal of 'an unwarranted charge' on one of Elle's billings. Because the claim was over $5000, office procedure required the matter be discussed with Donovan as president.

"You get cheapskates like this," Donovan said avoiding using Elle's name. They'll pay through the nose for anything they can see, but can't cope with intangibles like your sort of work. They just think the intangibles are not billable. Geeze and you want me to sign off this with a partial deduction of that billing just to allow him to feel he's achieved something?"

"I certainly don't Donovan; I'm seeking your authority to reject his claim. You said he's a cheapskate. He also was a disruptive client but he wasn't billed for wasting our time - he wanted a solution, I thought it out, and Karl delivered with his Lego-build. He's gotten everything he wanted and he's been billed for maximum for the production of the solution but nothing I cannot justify if this continues to be disputed and goes to conciliation or even to arbitration."

"Jesus, you're tough. Okay I'll..."

His phone went.

"Excuse me," Donovan said, turning his back on her and walking to the window, and making a bright greeting, anticipating great news.

"Hi Fitzgerald."

"Our big boss wants to meet you and this brilliant woman of yours."

"When and where?"

"New York tomorrow evening and we cover all reasonable expenses."

"New York huh, that's rather inconvenient but better than France I guess. But why Elle, why not Roger - he did the drawing."

"Madam Roché just wants to meet her; she'd fascinated."

"It's a time-waster just to make that trip for dinner with madam who's fascinated to see what she looks like. Will she make do with a movie clip?"

"She'd also interested in your woman's mind."

"I can't believe this Fitzgerald. Madam Roché is inviting me to New York to meet me and my associate for dinner during which time she'll decide the outcome of this entire project."

"You have it buddy. It will be a black tie affair and make sure your lady dresses up as she'll be under close inspection. Details have been emailed to you; this trip is on us because we accept it is a little excessive. We've booked two rooms but there is a connecting door' we with French connections know how to accommodate our guests."

"Yeah, right. I take it you are required in New York?"

"Yes, buddy, but only to make the introductions. Be careful, Donovan, very careful. Both of you."

"Jesus!" snapped Donovan, tossing his phone into his trash can, although knowing he'd fish it out later.

"Trouble," asked Elle neutrally, already having worked out from hearing only one side of the conversation what was going on. New York oh how exciting!

"This is not business," he growled. "This is business excessiveness. The French want me in New York for dinner the night after next just so their supreme head can meet our ideas person, meaning you. This is disgustingly excessive but at least the trip is on them. You'll be expected to look your best so buy a dress for the occasion which you may keep - a thousand max, do you understand? Anything over that limit, you pay.

"A thousand?" Elle said weakly.

"Peanuts - her ear-rings will cost twenty times that, perhaps forty. I saw her on video when I was with Fitzgerald in Frisco the other day."

"Oh that's helpful. What's she like?"

"Skinny, wrinkles engineered out with a big nose and wears expensive clothing and accessories and walk as if she were the Queen of France."

"That's very helpful Donovan. Thank you."

Donovan looked for signs of sarcasm but saw none. The tone of her voice didn't give her away but her wording had sarcasm written all over it.

"Are you being sarcastic?" he asked and bingo she virtually admitted it by being evasive.

"What do you think?"

"Elle, I really didn't take much notice of her - at least not to glean the information you probably want. She shouldn't even be involving herself in this - hell, it's only a contract probably less than a container full of her perfumes."

"Small contracts like this should have been left to Fitzgerald - he's president of her Eastern-Midwest business and perfectly capable to making a decision on business value judgment. Instead, this whole contract rests on whether she likes you."

"What!"

"That's not my theory; Fitzgerald insinuated that and I received the message loud and clear but without him saying what a dumb way of doing business."

"Fine."

"You mean you're okay with this?"

"Yes, of course. I'll forget about the contract and just concentrate on being worth the trouble of her flying in from France to see me; she's probably going to offer me a job."

Elle froze, not daring to look at him. How the hell did that comment slip out? She'd not even been aware of the thought, which was unusual for her.

"I take it that's your humor overtaking your mouth?"

"Yes, well spotted, but there's no need to be rude about it."

"We used to laugh a lot together, didn't we>"

"Yes, and that was even less than a week ago."

He looked surprised. "Only a week; it feels like a year."

"What kind of dress should I buy?"

"One that fits you?"

"That's not helpful."

"But it's humorous, just a little. Gone on, you'll have to concede that."

She smiled.

"Thank you," he acknowledged. "Take Pamela with you shopping. Go now and take the pressure off yourself."

"But I have important work to do."

"Elle this contract will be worth more than a million bucks to us; if what you are working on is more valuable to us than a million bucks, please go to your office and work on it; otherwise go shopping. The craziness of this little junket has my mind in an uproar and my stomach is churning."

"Well I'll go shopping - but you're not seeing the dress until I'm ready to go to dinner."

"But Elle I'm buying you the dress!"

"Tough though I must say what a lovely thing for you to do."

When Elle left Donovan retrieved his phone and called his director of creative services.

"Rosso (Roger Grossi's nickname that Donovan only used when there was trouble), I'd like to take you for a bite of lunch and a couple of beers."

"What today when I'm up to my eyes in it?"

"Yes Rosso."

Donovan knew that Roger would play up when he learned that Elle had been summoned to New York and not him. Better the venting took place out of the office as Roger and his outburst tended to unnerve everything because the violence sometimes extended from verbal to the throwing of things. Donovan wisely decided to find a rowdier bar serving sandwiches where they were not known.

Donovan returned from lunch well satisfied.

Roger's face had nakedly shown disappointment that turned into anger, but for once he controlled himself. He said he had to admit it but Elle deserved full credit for the concept presented to the French. He'd even smiled, saying it had 'Gallic written all over it - that it was a piece of inspired, intuitive thinking'.

Incredible as it may seem, it was obvious that Roger now loved the woman he understandably regarded as his enemy invading his patch. Perhaps 'love' was an over-statement; Roger actually said, "She's awesome as a women and as a professional she has my greatest respect and admiration."

They'd laughed when Donovan joked in that case Elle must be the only woman Roger liked other than his wife and then Roger became personal and said, "Boss, don't lose her - you'll never find another one like her."

Donovan thought about that; the comment had shaken him, so he attempted to down-play it, saying as a partner she was unlikely to uproot too easily. He should have known Roger was deadly serious when calling him boss. Roger had looked at him and said scathingly, "You're not telling me you're thick, are you?" Donovan had laughed and said, "No, no - I heard you loud and clear. Let's have another beer."

Of course he wasn't thick in this regard; he had no intention of losing Elle. He'd be married to her by Christmas - this year. He wished she'd hurry up and say that one word, "Sorry."

* * *

Donovan and Elle took a night flight, going to sleep after a couple of drinks and dinner, arriving at New York at dawn, ready for a very big day.

"I love New York - I'll show you everything," Donovan said as the aircraft approached JKF.

"Look, that's very kind of you but I don't wish to exhaust myself. I just need to take it easy and have a nap before dressing for dinner."

Donovan controlled his disappointment. "That's fine, what would you like to do?"

"Really, you're inviting me to make my choice?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's a simple schedule. I'd like to go to the hotel and have a bath and then go out with you for a coffee and go to inspect the foyer of the Chrysler Building."

"And to go up to the top of the Empire State Building?"

"Next time we're here. Then I want to walk Broadway and I know it won't look its best in daylight, and then to look at Times Square and to return there after dinner tonight. After Times Square I want to walk Fifth Avenue. That's all."

"What about visiting a couple of museums and..."

"Some other time Donovan. Thank you for being so kind. You rush off elsewhere if you wish, that's fine by me."

"Until we complete this dinner you're too valuable to us to set free alone in New York. I'm sticking with you."

At 3 o'clock Donovan was waiting patiently on the sidewalk when Elle came out of yet another dress shop, looking radiant, and still not having made a single purchase. She was dressed in a light yellow jacket, lime green shirt, very tight dark blue jeans and green heels that matched her shirt. She wore no jewelry at all and apparently only lipstick, and had her sunglasses stuck up in her hair. She looked a million dollars and knew it because of the way people stared of her.

Donovan stared at her, his heart melted.

He knew it; he'd have to make the move.

She stopped, right in the middle of the sidewalk, swaying at people who clumsily bumped her. The sun shone, the traffic roared and she stared at him. It was a magic moment.

He straightened from leaning against a street pole and she walked slowly towards him. He had this incredible feeling she was going to say sorry. But he was wrong.

All she said was, "We've been incredible fools."

Donovan thought she'd cry, but she didn't.

He answered her with a vigorous nod and almost felt like crying.

The magic was intensifying, then she said, "Please buy me an engagement ring. I promise never to throw this one away. A modest one please."

He, of course, was expected to rush her, sweep her into his arms and cry something like "Oh my beloved, glad to have you back."

But his legs wouldn't move; shock had seized him. But at least his mouth worked. "Glad to have you back, darling. What sort of ring?"

She folded an arm around his and held up her mouth.

They kissed.

They heard some young women passing them go, "Aaaaagh" with a lilt in their voices.

Perhaps once in your life you are lucky to have a moment like this, so they kissed on, knowing this moment was theirs. Donovan felt her goodness flowing into him.

"The ring or should we duck back to the hotel first?"

She looked at him sternly.

"The ring, first. These days I don't go to bed with a man unless I am engaged to him. It's a standard you would endorse, isn't it?"

"Yes let's see if my legs are working. Oh good. Coffee first, we have bad days to put to rest."

"Good thinking. I never stopped loving you Donovan - my love was just pushed back really deep, that's all."