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.
