Chapter 10

 

December, 1978

 

Juliette stared at the oblong velveteen box on her desk.

“What’s this?” she asked when she sensed Al standing behind her.

“Let’s just call it an early Christmas present.”

She opened the box and gasped. A thin bracelet of diamonds glittered against the black background.

“Al …” She kept her voice low, although she knew they were alone in the office. Sheila had left for the day but what if she forgot something and came back? “You can’t be buying me gifts like this.”

“It’s not much. Just a little tennis bracelet. You’re supposed to wear it when you play tennis.”

She laughed. “I don’t play tennis, Al.”

“Then you can learn. There’s a court at my house. My coach can teach you.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d be no good at it. Plus, you don’t take up a sport just to have a place to wear jewelry.” She closed the box and started to hand it back but he stuck his hands behind his back, refusing to accept it.

“Look, it didn’t cost much. I got it wholesale from my cousin’s shop.” He reached for the box, opened it and took the bracelet out. “Let’s put it on and see how it looks.”

The moment he fastened the clasp at her wrist she lost the desire to refuse the gift. It was the most beautiful thing she owned.

“Like I said, early Christmas.” The other women had received potted poinsettias on their desks.

For a second she thought he meant to kiss her. “I can’t— I can’t become involved, Al. It’s not right.”

“Another boyfriend?”

“No, it’s not that. Just … you’re my boss.” She kept her eyes down.

“I don’t force myself on women. Even ones as beautiful as you.” He turned toward his own office. “Enjoy the bracelet. It looks a lot better on your wrist than in the box.”

Juliette covered her typewriter and picked up her coat, putting the velveteen box into her purse. She hoped she hadn’t hurt his feelings.

“Thank you, Al. It’s lovely, a very thoughtful and extravagant gift.”

He gathered his jacket and switched off his light. “Don’t forget the Christmas party tomorrow night at my place. You can bring a date if you want.”

The party had been the talk of the office for weeks. Juliette didn’t have a date. She’d thought of inviting Carol Ann but her friend never had a nice thing to say about Al, so why should she get to see the fabulous mansion? Forget her.

Sheila knew Juliette hadn’t bought herself a car yet and had offered a ride. It would work out fine, the two women going stag, since Sheila’s husband couldn’t get away from his restaurant-management job. Juliette saw herself doing her co-worker a favor, as much as the other way around.

Al locked the door and walked toward his Porsche, noticing Juliette heading toward the street.

“I can give you a ride home,” he called out.

She shook her head. “That’s okay. I have a stop to make.”

He looked as if he would gladly take her on her errand but she merely smiled, waved and kept walking to the bus stop. She didn’t really have any other plans. The gift of the bracelet and Al’s increasing attention were too much distraction already. She was half afraid of her own actions if she were to get in the car with him.

Friday night. She plopped into her seat on the bus, mildly annoyed, bored, uneasy … she couldn’t define the feeling exactly. No doubt her edgy mood was partly due to Al’s gift just now. She stretched her arm slightly so the bracelet showed below her cuff. But her discontent was not entirely his fault.

Every Friday night for years she and Carol Ann had plans—movies, shopping, dinner at one apartment or the other. If nothing else, they would simply hang out and enjoy glasses of wine and talk about the latest books they’d read. But the last few weeks, things had cooled. Part of it was Carol Ann’s attitude about Al—true—but then another guy had come along.

Juliette had met her friend’s new boyfriend twice. First impression was he was exactly that, a boy. Tommy was their age but seeing Carol Ann with him took Juliette right back to Texas and the drama of boy-girl stuff there. He’d been away at college, come home to Florida at Thanksgiving, and was now talking about not going back to school after the winter break. Stupid. He had a semester left to graduate but couldn’t do without Carol Ann another six months? How high school was that?

Compared to Al, Tommy seemed like such a kid. Juliette bit her tongue every time she talked to Carol Ann anymore. Things were changing. One side of her said it was inevitable—life changed, things happened. The other side couldn’t believe it. Your very best friend since second grade just didn’t do that to you. Tears blurred her vision and she nearly missed her stop.

She stumbled up the street to her apartment and let herself in. The beige walls she had once thought fresh and clean-looking were now just bland. The rental furniture depressed her. The one piece of art on the living room wall was a cheap printed thing from K-Mart. She’d been so wrapped up in her job that she’d not even brought home a houseplant. Now that she was earning more money she could afford a better place. She turned on a lamp, put a frozen dinner in the microwave and went into her bedroom. Moving, she decided, would be her New Year’s resolution.

Hanging from her closet door was the one bright spot in the apartment—the dress she’d bought for tomorrow night’s Christmas party. The red satin fit her curves precisely and the low neckline accentuated the best parts. Together, the dress and shoes had cost nearly half a paycheck; she couldn’t afford to do that again, not if she wanted a new apartment.

From her tiny kitchen alcove the microwave dinged. She grabbed a fork and peeled back the wrapper from her meal. The idea of new surroundings excited her and she pulled out her bank book, going through it while she ate. There wasn’t a sufficient amount in savings for much in the way of furniture, but she was determined not to go for another furnished place. Enough with the saggy couches, stained upholstery and take-what-you-get mattresses that always came with these places. With her salary she could qualify for a loan to get her own things.

The empty evening looked brighter now. She turned on the TV and let Donnie and Marie sing to her while she tidied the kitchen. Dallas would be on later. Who needed Carol Ann when she could immerse herself in whatever evil plot J.R. Ewing was up to?

She let herself sleep late Saturday morning and promised herself a nap later if she felt like it. Being fresh and sparkling for a late night out was the goal. She imagined the mansion decorated for the holidays and saw herself dazzling the crowd in her new dress. The mood dropped a notch when she reminded herself this was a company party, the same crowd she saw every day plus, most likely, some of the workers from the crews. Not exactly a glamour event.

She began to second-guess herself about the dress—maybe it was overkill for this particular party—but then remembered Sheila saying she’d bought a new dress. Juliette decided to skip her hairdresser appointment and put away the faux-jeweled collar she’d found on sale. She could do something simple with her long curls—the dress, shoes and Al’s diamond bracelet would be understated but elegant. She polished her nails and read a magazine of home decorating ideas while they dried.

By the time Sheila tooted the horn outside her apartment window at seven o’clock, Juliette had reconsidered her outfit three more times. Aside from a whole new shopping trip—which she refused to do because of the expense—her original idea was still the best. She pulled a cashmere wrap around her shoulders and ran down to the car.

“Wow, you look like a million bucks,” Sheila greeted.

The car contained a cloud of cigarette smoke and Juliette flinched a little, holding the door open longer than necessary to get rid of it. She thought of her freshly shampooed hair and hoped she wouldn’t reek by the time they arrived.

“I hope I can remember exactly how to get there,” Sheila said as she pulled out of the parking lot.

Juliette found it oddly reassuring to know Sheila wasn’t a regular visitor to the mansion. Then she chided herself for feeling this way.

“Now, if only the guys don’t all hang out at the bar and talk about concrete pours and earth-moving equipment. Of course, Marion hardly knows any subject but accounting. Boring if you’re a regular person, but if you need advice on your taxes just get her into a corner. She’ll go on and on.”

Juliette had already noticed that about Marion, from being around the office.

“Will everyone be there with spouses or dates?”

“Most of the men on the crew are married, so there’ll be women to chat with. The wives tend to give us office girls the eye, wondering if we’re flirting with their husbands all day. All you can do is be friendlier to the female half of the room than the male side.”

Aside from the day she’d met Ernie Batista out at the Rossmoor job, Juliette couldn’t remember meeting any of the crew. There weren’t more than one or two times any of them had come inside the office. Watching heavy equipment move in and out of the back lot was about her only exposure to that side of the business.

The rows of royal palms along the drive were now lit by twisted strands of white lights around their trunks. Driving between them felt like entering a fairyland. The front of the mansion had electric candles in every window, wreaths on every door, and a giant topiary ball suspended above the door. Al Proletti himself met each car, giving the ladies a quick kiss on the cheek and joking about the mistletoe overhead, while valets moved the cars out of sight. He wore a white dinner jacket and tie, setting off his dark hair and vivid blue eyes.

“May I take your wrap?” Al asked, his voice a low murmur in Juliette’s ear. She noticed a uniformed maid had offered to take Sheila’s. “I like your bracelet.”

His fingertips brushed her bare shoulders as he lifted the shawl but they didn’t linger. Nothing inappropriate. He handed the cashmere piece to the maid and offered an arm to each of them.

“Ladies, shall we join the others?”

A decorated tree, at least fifteen feet tall, filled a corner of the room he’d described on her last visit as the living room. True to his word, the furniture had been moved along the walls and into small groupings, the oriental carpet taken away. A fire in the marble-fronted fireplace added a cheery note.

Of those present, Sheila’s prediction appeared true—the men were gathered, drinks in hand, near the door and she caught words like ‘fill dirt’ and ‘the D-9 Cat.’ The women hung close to the Christmas tree, pointing and commenting on the ornaments. A string quartet played quietly in the corner near the door, although she noticed a turntable and stack of vinyl albums nearby. The crowd was definitely more Creedence Clearwater than Bach—she noted with relief.

“Let’s get you ladies a drink,” Al said. He steered them toward a bar just inside the dining room, where Juliette noticed the side console loaded with covered dishes and the long dining table set with gleaming china and crystal. “Dinner will be announced in a half hour or so, although it’s a completely casual buffet. People can serve themselves whenever they like.”

Completely casual? Juliette almost laughed. In her world, casual was paper plates and barbeque. She’d never seen a table set this way in real life, only in magazines. She wondered what it would be like to host a party like this. In her new apartment she would have proper glassware and at least a few place settings of real china. It would be fun to have Carol Ann over and do it up right, pretend they were classy ladies and practice their table manners. Then she remembered Tommy and the whole picture faded.

The bartender poured her a glass of white wine, while Sheila opted for a martini. “Come on, I’ll introduce you around,” she told Juliette.

Al had drifted back to the front door, apparently expecting more guests. Sheila left it to the men to introduce themselves, about thirty of them. On the distaff side of the room, they interrupted the discussion of which department stores put their decorations on sale before Christmas for another quick round of introductions. Juliette supposed with time she might remember them, but likely not. She knew the company had three fairly major jobs currently underway and wondered at the turnover among the crews. She suspected there was no reason to become chums—they must come and go often.

With the choice of only Sheila, Marion and Al to talk to, she wished it had worked out to bring Carol Ann as her guest. The large room was beginning to feel stuffy so she wandered back to the foyer, admiring the paintings on the white walls. A small bell chimed a few times and she heard Al invite everyone to come to the buffet. She didn’t feel hungry at the moment so she stepped toward the library as the crowd went into motion. The quiet room felt refreshing after the drone of voices and she made her way around the room, looking at the book titles. A tiny sound near the door caught her attention.

“Dinner’s ready,” Al said.

“I know. I thought I’d let everyone else go first.”

He nodded. “Not one for noise and crowds, huh?”

“Oh, it’s not that. Well, I am surprised how many employees you have. It’s quite a crowd. I mean, I assumed … maybe some of them are clients?”

“No, these are all company people.”

“I thought so. I didn’t see those two men who were here the day you brought me out for lunch.”

His forehead wrinkled for a moment. “Oh, them. No. They’re … they’re not.” He picked up a letter opener from a small table, then set it down again.

Funny answer. She half expected him to elaborate, to tell her who the men were, but he didn’t.

“Well, I suppose I should get something to eat,” she said, passing him on her way to the door. “I’m sure it’s fabulous food, if lunch was any indication, and someone went to a lot of trouble to prepare everything.”

“You’re very considerate, Juliette. That was a nice thing to say.” His tone was almost one of wonder.

She let it pass and headed toward the dining room where voices rose in laughter and the clatter of dishes and silverware filled the air.

At the long table there was an empty chair beside Sheila’s. “Get your plate, hon. I saved you a place.”

Juliette almost couldn’t fathom the amount of food. She helped herself to shrimp and rice and an interesting-looking salad, knowing she would be miserable if she attempted more. People who’d finished were getting up from the table and places were almost magically reset in time for the next person to come along. In the living room, the classical players had left and pop music tunes began drifting through the open doorway.

“I’m taking a little smoke break out front,” Sheila said. “See you in there afterward.” A nod toward the music.

Juliette was not incorrect in her guess about the amount of food she could hold. She couldn’t even finish what little she’d chosen. A maid noticed that she’d set down her silverware and quietly asked if she wanted the plate removed. A nod, and she stood up. Already, she was a bit bored with the crowd. The women had covered the topics they had in common and those who were friends had split off into their own little conversation groups. Couples were beginning to fill the dance floor. One of the burly construction workers raised his eyebrows toward Juliette, an unspoken invitation to dance, but she wasn’t in the mood. She motioned that she would be right back, as if she had to find the bathroom. All the while, she wondered how late Sheila planned to stay. They should have discussed it. Juliette should get a car. She needed an escape hatch right now.

She wandered along the foyer, trying to remember which door was the bathroom—any place for a few minutes alone. Ahead of her, she noticed decorative lights and inviting furniture on the veranda beyond the tall glass doors. She tried the doorknob, wondering if it would be locked. It turned in her hand and she gave a glance over her shoulder to see if anyone noticed. She was alone.

The air was cool and still, the aqua glow from the pool calming everything in sight. She took a deep breath, let it out. Her bare shoulders felt chilly but she couldn’t bring herself to go back to the noise and crowd. She rubbed them with her hands.

“Aren’t you cold out here?” Al’s voice. She knew it without turning around.

“It’s not bad. Christmas where I come from, in the way north part of Texas, you couldn’t even be outside right now without a heavy coat.”

“Take mine,” he said, shrugging out of his dinner jacket and draping it across her shoulders before she could object.

He was standing close enough she could smell the familiar aftershave. He wore it every day but out here, alone, the nuances of scent were so much more pronounced. The hint of musk and spice went into her lungs, her brain, her soul. Her eyes closed as she drank in the fragrance. The next thing she knew, his lips were on hers. Lightly at first, then firmer. Then … gone.

When her eyes came open, he had turned away. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and walked into the house. An urge to run after him, the hint of his scent wafting on the air. She breathed deeply, taking in the last of it, before she went looking for her ride.

I wish I knew what I wanted. But until I do, this is too dangerous a game to play.