Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Carl DIDN’T COME BACK to the office until after six. Mandy had moved back to her own office by then and was working on printing off the contract. Carl stuck his head into her office. “You’re still here, Ms. Connors?” he said. “Why don’t you go home?”

“Just finishing up. Gina was out sick so I had to cover both desks.” She turned her back to him as she spun around in her chair to grab the contract off the printer. When he didn’t respond she glanced back. He nodded and went to close her door. “Actually,” she called out, “I’ve something to talk to you about.” She got up from her desk and followed him into his office before he could stop her.

Carl looked at her, a flurry of emotions playing across his face before his unreadable mask slid back into place. “If it’s about Friday, then—”

“It’s not about Friday,” Mandy said quickly, grabbing the chair across from Carl’s desk and pulling it around the desk so there was nothing between them but air. “It’s not about us or work, actually.”

“Then what’s with the furniture arrangements?” Carl asked, his eyebrows raised. Thankfully, he didn’t move away. “This definitely feels a little too personal for business matters, and you’re sure it’s not personal?” Even now, Mandy could see a trace of hunger in his eyes. But she didn’t let herself grow warm at the sight of it. She knew that it would be gone in a second and it was no use indulging herself in silly fantasies.

“It’s personal, but not about us,” she confirmed. “Mark came to see me.”

“Mark? Here?” he snarled. “Dammit! I banned him from this office. Why the hell would he come back?”

“He came to see me.”

“Why the hell would he want to see you?” His eyebrows raised and he pulled his chair back an inch. “You haven’t—”

She realized what he was referring to and quickly cut him off. “No! No. No, not at all.” She rolled her eyes. “He came because you refuse to see him.” Mandy wrung her hands together, suddenly not sure how this conversation was going to go. Carl was not going to like her butting into his family business. She was walking a thin line. She swallowed. “He’s hoping I might talk some sense into you.”

“He’s wrong. Whatever it is he wants, I’m not giving.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “Money?”

“No.”

“I bet it’s money. I told him—”

“Carl, your father has cancer.”

He froze. His mouth opened but no words came out. He closed it again and stared at Mandy, stunned. “What?” he whispered finally.

Mandy nodded and smiled sympathetically. “That’s why he came by. Your dad wants to see you again.”

Carl stared at her, as if she’d grown a second head.

Uncomfortable with trying to pretend her boss was just her boss, she reached for his hand and lightly rested her fingers on the arm of his chair, too unsure to reach out and touch him. “Mark said something about your dad wanting to make amends... patch things up.” Really? I had to say, ‘patch things up’? I have no idea what the issue is and I’m making it sound like their problem sounds like a quilt. “I’m sorry.”

“How long has he had cancer?”

Mandy shrugged helplessly. She had no idea. “He’s been receiving chemo treatments for the past three months. That’s what Mark said.”

Carl shook his head. He stared down at her hand on the arm of his chair before he straightened and pressed his lips together in a tight line. A sharp breath pushed through his nose. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything. That bastard can rot in hell for all I care.”

Mandy moved back as if Carl had slapped her hand. She couldn’t believe he meant it. “You don’t mean that.” Mark wanted her to try to talk to him, she’d have to give it a shot. Shoot, she’d come this far now and she knew the emotions that had crossed his face before he tried to bury them behind anger. “Whatever happened isn’t important. Don’t let your anger or your pride keep you from seeing him. You’ll regret it, trust me.”

“Trust you?” Carl scoffed. “Let me tell you this: reconciliation is impossible and my pride has nothing to do with it,” he snarled. “You don’t know what he did, what they did. What they put me through. You have no fuckin’ idea.”

“Then why don’t you tell me?” Mandy asked quietly. “Please. I want to help. Your father’s dying and wants to see you again. Your brother’s trying to make amends as well.” She moved forward on her chair so her knees pressed against his. “I know you’re not happy with things as they are. Maybe I can help figure this out, but I can’t do anything unless you tell me.”

Carl glared at her for a long moment. It took everything in her not to say anything and just let him be. He stared at the wall then, the muscles in his jaw working as he got his thoughts and emotions under control. “It’s a long story,” he said finally.

“I’m not in a rush,” she offered.

Carl stood and held out his hand to help Mandy up. “Let’s get out of here. I need a drink.”

“Sure.” She was terrified that once they got in a car he would change his mind. “You want to head back to your place?”

He shook his head. “There’s a bar not far from here.”

THEY ENDED UP AT A bar about halfway between work and home. An off the road place that Mandy would never have pictured Carl going in to. It was a local tavern kind of place with deer heads and other stuffed animals staring blatantly at you from the wall. Carl pointed at a table under a moose head with massive antlers and walked to the bar to grab drinks.

Cautiously, Mandy slid on the bench under the elk, eying it with mistrust. There was a reason nobody was sitting by this area, hopefully it wasn’t because of the beast above them.

Carl came over to her a few moments later, carrying two pint glasses. “I don’t...” His words drifted off as he glanced above her and then back down to her face. He smirked but didn’t say anything as he cautiously leaned over and set a pale amber-yellow bubbling looking pint in front of her before sitting down on the chair across the table. He eyed the moose once more. “It’s cider. I wasn’t sure if you liked beer. I actually don’t really know what you drink, except expensive whisky.” He grinned. “And if memory serves me correctly, you don’t drink a lot of it.”

She blushed as she picked up her glass and tried a tentative sip. It was bubbly but light, almost fruity. “Cider? A girl’s version of beer?” She kind of liked the aftertaste and took another sip.

He chuckled. “Sort of.” He took a long swig of his dark amber glass.

They sat quietly for a few moments, both angled so they could watch the other customers talking and laughing where they sat.

“My dad always favored Mark over me,” Carl began as Mandy sipped her drink and then set it down to lean closer so she could hear him. “Mark’s a couple years younger than me. Dad was in the Navy and ran our house like he ran his ship. Mark was the golden boy. The captain of the football
team and baseball team. Straight A’s. Student body president. The works.”