Finding You Page 7

  As soon as I hear her words, I think of my mother, again. I have a memory of myself as a little kid when she tucked my blanket in and kissed me goodnight.

  *

  I arrive at the office at seven fifty. I see my assistant at her desk yawning while drinking a coffee.

  “Good morning, Harrison. Did you sleep well?” I ask while passing her desk. I like to provoke her. I like her sharp, sometimes funny, answers. “So selfish! You ordered espresso only for yourself—” I’m waiting for her reply. Nothing. Disappointed, I enter my office and there I see the tray with my espresso.

  “I saw you coming through the window, so I ordered coffee for you too.” She smiles.

  “Thank you.” I say hesitantly. I keep staring at the small cup. It’s just an espresso, why am I so surprised? I don’t see a sugar packet. Too bad, I will have to drink it bitter. But when I taste it, it’s perfect: just a little sugar, the way I like it. It seems a small thing, but I am puzzled. My assistants never did anything on their own initiative before. They never anticipated a desire. There were always three sugar packets. Perhaps they wanted to sweeten their boss. Is she the perfect assistant or did she get to know me in only one week? This second assumption worries me a little bit.

  My day was one meeting after another. I met the creative team, had lunch with Vic and had another encounter with Calligaris who disagreed with me about almost everything. It’s seven when I return to my office. I feel irritated. All the lights are on, although most of the employees have already gone. Yet as soon as I turn the corner, I see my assistant. She seems tired, but she smiles at me asking: “Hi, are you back?” I remain silent for a moment. “Yes, but shouldn’t you be at home at this time?”

  “Next train is in forty minutes.” She says stretching. “I am finishing up some work.” She observes me for a second before asking, “James, are you all right?”

  Leaning on her desk I nod. I am tired of talking today. I am tired of several things. Too many to tell.

  “Let me guess. Calligaris again?” She asks. I nod with a sigh. “You really can’t like him. I don’t know him very well, but from what I heard he resolved problems for the agency several times. He seems to be reliable and accurate.” I frown. “Ok! I understand. He can be obsessive, I’m sure. Yet it is a price worth paying to avoid other unpleasant surprises.”

  Damn it! Again. I didn’t say a word and she was able to read my thoughts. How can she do that? I begin to feel uncomfortable. I don’t know if I like this. Or maybe I like it. I’m not sure. I suddenly stand up. “Harrison, turn off the lights. Let’s go. I will give you a ride home.” Before she can protest, I add, “No but, we leave in five minutes!”

  After a week of commuting, I know that after seven thirty I will find less traffic on the way out of Milan. Well, I didn’t expect an accident on the highway. Valentina understood that I didn’t want to talk. I’m immersed in my thoughts, when my cell phone rings.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, James.” I immediately recognize my father’s deep voice. I don’t know why I turn towards her, as if looking for an escape from this call. She bends her head and simply looks at me. I swallow with difficulty and return to staring at the highway in front of me, a serpent of stationary car lights.

  “Hi.” It’s the only word I manage to say. Last time I talked to him was at the meeting of the Global Media board of directors. A month ago. Since he openly told me I was a big disappointment to him, we communicate only through George, the family’s lawyer, or through Beth, his secretary. I wonder if he wants to hammer me about something else. I try to control myself, since I am not alone in the car.

  “I just wanted to know how you are. We haven’t spoken since—”

  “I know perfectly well the last time we spoke. I am fine.” I interrupt him. I want to avoid the worst. Out of the corner of my eye I see that Valentina is tightening up. Shit! I hope she doesn’t have another panic attack right now. She’s silent and bites her lip. I’m really worrying she may have a crisis, so I loosen my hold on the wheel and with a finger I touch her chin. I feel her warm breath on my hand. I feel the softness of her lips. I feel her eyes looking at me in the dark car. I stare at all those small red lights in front of me. My hand, tightened into a fist, is close to her seat. What does my father want?

  “Did you call to see if I am making more trouble? Something you would be ashamed of with your friends at the Golf Club?”

  “Actually, I called for the opposite reason. But it’s useless.” My father groans. “Everything I say seems to upset you. So it’s better to end this conversation.”

  Did he say the opposite? What does he mean? I don’t care! It’s a long time since we talked about anything other than business anyway. We never have a personal conversation. So he should tell me what he has to say and go to hell! Am I his disappointment? Good. So he must leave me alone! My breath becomes shorter and my jaws tighten. I really don’t know what to say to him. I am just deeply angry. Right at that moment I feel a warm touch on my fist which begins to loosen. That warm sensation moves up along my arm and I feel it throughout my body. My breath returns, my heart slows down and my body relaxes. I can speak again.

  “There is a big traffic jam in Milan.” My voice finds its normal tone. “You were right when you said the roads in Italy are shit. They are narrow and full of holes. At every turn I risk damaging this car. A beauty.” My mouth is dry. I’m waiting for an answer. Any answer. Her hand is now caressing mine, slowly. Every touch is like an injection of calm.

  “I knew you would like it! The car dealer couldn’t believe I wanted to close the transaction over the phone from the United States! I’m sure he thought I was an old lunatic—” Is my father being ironic? I can’t believe it.

  “Well, you should be accustomed to it!” I smile. The long ribbon of cars is now moving slowly. She has withdrawn her hand. I feel suddenly cold. Without thinking I take her hand. Slowly she turns towards me. She doesn’t understand. I don’t understand either, but to feel anchored I clasp her fingers.

  “I heard from Victor. He told me you are doing a great job. Please, don’t think I called him to inquire about you. He contacted me. He wanted to thank me because you—” It seems to be hard for him to find the words.

  “To thank you for my forced collaboration with Scott & Barny?” I found the words for him. I feel clear-headed.

  “Exactly. I will let you go back to your traffic. Talk to you soon.”

  “Yes. We are moving faster now. I will call you in a few days, dad.” It’s strange to hear myself saying dad. It seems like a long time since I called him dad. I still feel agitated. I can calm down only by holding her hand even more tightly. She responds with the same intensity.

  “Ok, Jamie. Thank you. Have a good evening.” My father hangs up.

  Jamie. This nickname brings me back to my childhood. I feel as though new blood is running through my body. My heart is lighter. I don’t feel tired any more and new energy is recharging me.

  When I move my arm, she quickly withdraws her hand. I turn to her smiling, still excited by the conversation with my father. She is looking out through the window.

  “It was my father.” Finally she looks at me.

  “You, Americans. Sometime you seem to speak your own language.”

  Does she want to make me think she didn’t get my conversation? I don’t believe it. Her movements and expression show me she understood much more than my words.

  “Yes. It’s true.” Somehow I want to keep this moment of serenity. I don’t want to argue. “Actually, for a long time my father and I didn’t speak the same language.”

  I stare in front of me with both hands on the wheel. I feel something powerful inside me. There is something I need to say. “Thank you, Valentina!” I am not sure for what. Perhaps because she pretended she didn’t understand a word of the conversation, for her silence maybe, or because of her closeness at that moment. I don’t know, but just thinking of it gives me chills.

 
“You are welcome!” I turn and she is sweetly smiling.

  Without thinking I caress her cheek. As I touch her skin she closes her eyes. I feel again a sudden warmth throughout my body. This feeling scares me so I put my hand back on the wheel.

  “You can sleep, if you want. I will wake you up when we arrive.” We passed the site of the accident and now the traffic is moving smoothly and fast through the night.

  She surprises me by asking: “Talk to me about him.” Her eyes are still closed.

  “It’s not a bedtime story.” I smile when I say it. Only yesterday I would have resented this kind of request. Now it’s different.

  “Mark Spencer. He is a powerful man in New York. He owns several companies in the communications and advertising field. The fifth estate, as it’s called. Scott & Barny in Milan is an associated company. A man loved and respected by many people. And then—”

  I stop. Perhaps she has fallen asleep.

  “And then?” She’s not sleeping.

  “And then here I am. The rebel, the black sheep. Flung out of several schools. The biggest disappointment, as he called me the last time I had an argument with him. My final disaster made me come here. I worked for his company in New York as a marketing specialist. One day I learned that he was trying to acquire a company in crisis. I saw the chance I was waiting for all my life. I played all the cards in order to get it before him. Eventually I succeeded.”

  Only when I say these words, do I fully understand how everything was wrong. My motivations, my feelings and my expectations. Everything was driven by hatred, anger, resentment… I remain silent until we arrive at her home. I turn, signal and park. I look at her, convinced that she’s now sleeping but I meet her gentle eyes looking at me. She is struggling with the seat belt. I turn off the motor.

  “Let me help you.”

  I move close to her and our hands brush. The sensations I had before return more powerfully. I smell her delicate scent and it is intoxicating. I am so close to her. She slowly raises her eyes and I can’t resist her gaze. I break all the laws of reason and eliminate the small distance between us. I trust and follow my instincts by looking at her lips and then gently kiss them. My hands touch her hair. I want to hold her but I am afraid she could slip away. It doesn’t happen. She softly moves her lips. After studying the curve of her mouth, I want more. I want to taste her. As if she can read my thoughts, she slightly opens her lips. Our tongues search and discover one other. Her taste is so sweet. I never gave much importance to a kiss, but this is different. I feel her warm breath and our tongues tasting each other. My hands caress her cheeks and move down to her neck. Her fingers shuffle lightly through my hair and move softly like silk to my neck. I reach a point of no return. I ache with desire. I’ve never been so excited just for a kiss. For a second I released her lips to caress her neck and fondle her ear with my tongue. I hear her deep breaths pause and follow the scent of jasmine. My lips run up and down her neck with eager anticipation to reach her luscious lips again. Her hands are moving down my arms.

  Suddenly the lights of a car parking behind us make her withdraw abruptly. I already miss her.

  “They can’t see us.” She turns and I smile at her shy look. “The car has tinted glass. Don’t worry.” She sighs with relief. I want to ask why she is so scared, but she anticipates me.

  “It’s late.” She puts on her glasses that were on the dashboard. “It’s better to go.” She’s already opening the door.

  Is she leaving? As if nothing happened? I try to hold her back, but she is already out.

  “Tina—” She doesn’t let me finish.

  “Thank you for the ride, James. Good Night.”

  She vanishes. I lean back in my seat. I need a few minutes to understand what has happened. I kissed my assistant. I had a calm, almost normal conversation with my father. I pass a hand over my eyes. I can’t believe it! I think I need a good night’s sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Valentina

  I enter my apartment and as soon as I close the door I let myself slide down. I find myself sitting on the cold floor. I need this. My face is burning. Images, words, thoughts and scents jumble together in my head. I still feel his taste on my lips. I touch them. Only a few minutes ago he was kissing me. James Spencer kissed me! Just the thought lights my body. I feel electrified. An unknown sensation until today. I can’t believe what just happened. I go over all the events of today, not only to understand, but to live each moment again. I don’t want to forget anything.

  James was strange all day. We both didn’t want to talk much. He was tired from all his meetings. I was embarrassed for what happened yesterday. But after he answered that call, everything changed. When he understood who the caller was, his body tightened. He turned towards me. I can’t forget the expression in his eyes. I saw anger and pain together. From the way he was wringing the wheel I was afraid he wanted to break it. Seeing him in that state deeply touched me. As his conversation progressed with difficulty, his mood was getting worse. Then I thought that he could be talking to his father. I remember that article Emma made me read the other day. It mentioned that he and his father were competing to acquire a company called Global Media. The article ended saying that Mark Spencer didn’t take the defeat well.

  Exactly at that moment I felt him brush my cheek. His voice deepened, his jaw tightened and his eyes squinted. I couldn’t stand seeing him like this, doing nothing. I don’t know why I felt such pain looking at him. I didn’t have any reason to feel sorry for such an arrogant narcissistic man. My reason and my heart disagreed. For the first time in my life I followed my instinct. I didn’t think what I was doing. I touched his hand. I couldn’t believe it when he clasped mine. My heart was in my mouth. Only then I dared to caress it.

  He’s always unpredictable, but then more so than ever. His tone of voice became normal. His conversation over the phone was suddenly calm and kind.

  Now, I can’t hold back my tears. Why? I am not sad. On the contrary I am happy. But what have I to do with his life? Nothing. And that wonderful kiss? Tina, stop lying and kidding yourself. That man deeply touched you. His voice and his words are echoing in your head. His touch is like a tattoo on your skin. Silly girl! You fell in love with him.

  To admit this to myself doesn’t make me feel better. Loving someone like James Spencer means facing a lot of future pain. Do I want go down this road?

  This morning, after an agitated sleep, a shower and a coffee, I still don’t have an answer. On the contrary. I am going to work with more questions in my head. How should I behave? What should I say? I am almost there. Without thinking I enter Caffe Villa and ask for an espresso to go. I put in less than half a packet of sugar and as I am leaving I get it! I am bringing him coffee to the office. It is what assistants do and this is who I am. What happened last night is only chance. If Emma was there instead of me, probably it would have happened with her. He simply needed someone kind and understanding at a moment of fragility. I was there, so it happened to be me. Therefore? Therefore I am his assistant and I will remain so. There is no further meaning for what happened in his car. There will be no consequences.

  So why do I feel this sense of heaviness? I enter the office with a resolute stride but with a racing heartbeat. I am lucky, there is no trace of him around, although his computer is on. I leave the tray with the espresso, I take off my coat and join Emma at the vending machines. I will try to stay away from him as much as possible. At least today. I feel so embarrassed that I am not sure I can look at his face. Every time I think of him I feel almost paralyzed.

  “Good morning, Valentina.”

  “Good morning, Mr Calligaris.” I smile in an effort to look relaxed.

  “May I buy you a coffee?” I am so stupid. I was in front of the vending machine for I don’t know how long. I didn’t even realize I had inserted my card which, by the way, has expired. I quickly remove it and turn to Calligaris. He is smiling at me with an understanding expression.

&nbs
p; “I’m sorry. I was distracted. Please, go ahead.” I say.

  I am going back to my desk when he grabs my arm. “May I buy you something to drink? If one has too much on his mind, some caffeine can help.”

  I stare at my expired card. “Maybe you are right. Another coffee may work miracles!”

  Only at that moment do I realize that he still has his hand on my arm. I move away feeling uncomfortable. He inserts his card and puts his hand on my back to invite me to select a drink.

  “Please, after you, Tina.” Since when this familiarity? I push the button.

  “Thank you, Mr Calligaris.”

  “You are welcome, Valentina.” I don’t feel anything hearing him call me by name. If James had been there instead of him, I would have dropped my cup on the floor!

  “Do you mind if we become less formal? We have worked for the same company for many years and we are more or less the same age. It seems ridiculous to be so formal!”

  “You are right, Claudio.” I smile. “Now I have to go back to work.”

  The door of his office is closed. Maybe he is inside. While I turn my computer on and try to concentrate on work, my heart beats faster. With every little noise I look up to see if he comes out of his office. I am in a deep state of anxiety. If I were to know the precise time he was going to emerge from his room, I would go and hide in the bathroom! I can’t work. I just stare at that stupid program on my computer. I should prepare the presentation for tomorrow and I have already wasted enough time. Am I going crazy? I stand up and go to the break room to get a bottle of water. When I return to my desk I find James in front of me. The bottle of water slips out of my hands.

  “Hi, you scared me.” I say, attempting a light tone of voice.

  “If you would spend more time at your desk, perhaps I wouldn’t have to look for you throughout the whole agency!” His voice is sharp. His expression is very serious. He’s not joking. His eyes are cold, very different from the eyes that were looking at me last night. I can’t say a word. I don’t need to, because he continues to speak. “Don’t you realize that the Power Point presentation has to be ready by noon to be reviewed? Do you believe I trust you so much that I don’t need to check your work?” I am astonished.