Chapter 6 - The Ring in the Desk
Victor Kane was charged with conspiracy, fraud, theft, witness intimidation, and trafficking stolen pharmaceuticals.
Catherine accepted a cooperation agreement.
Every dollar recovered from the stolen accounts was returned to employee health and retirement funds.
I added another five million personally.
Mara found out.
She walked into my office holding the financial report.
“You added five million.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I should have noticed.”
“That isn’t how accounting works.”
“It is now.”
She placed the report down.
“You cannot solve guilt by writing checks.”
“I know.”
She looked surprised.
I continued.
“But people were hurt while I wasn’t paying attention. The money belongs there.”
Mara studied me.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
Three weeks had passed since the hospital.
She looked healthier.
Not completely.
But better.
She was also leaving.
A cardboard box sat beside her desk.
I had spent three years thinking there would always be another morning.
Now I watched her pack coffee mugs.
“You’re really resigning.”
“Yes.”
“You could take a leave.”
“No.”
“Six months.”
“No.”
“A year.”
She smiled.
“Dominic, that is the opposite of how resignation works.”
I leaned against her desk.
“What if I change the structure?”
“The foundation?”
“Yes. Independent board. External audits. You choose the directors.”
“You’re negotiating.”
“I negotiate.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She closed another box.
“I need something that belongs to me.”
“The foundation belongs to you.”
“No. It belongs to the people it helps.”
I looked down.
“What about us?”
Her hands stopped.
There it was.
The conversation I had delayed for three years.
Mara looked at me.
“What is ‘us’?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then that’s the problem.”
I crossed the room.
“I know what I wanted it to be.”
“And what was that?”
I opened my desk.
Bottom drawer.
The velvet box was exactly where I had left it.
Mara stared when I placed it on the desk.
“Dominic.”
“I bought it seven months ago.”
She didn’t touch it.
“Why?”
“Because I intended to ask you to marry me.”
Her face was impossible to read.
“You bought a ring.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
“Yes.”
“For seven months.”
“I was waiting for the right moment.”
She almost laughed.
“You?”
“I realize now that was stupid.”
“You run half of Chicago like every second is a military operation, but you needed seven months to ask a woman a question?”
“When you say it like that—”
“How else should I say it?”
I smiled despite myself.
Then my expression changed.
“I’m not asking now.”
That surprised her.
“Why not?”
“Because you would wonder whether I’m asking from guilt.”
She looked at the ring.
“And are you?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I wanted you before I failed you.”
Silence.
“I loved you before the hospital. Before Victor. Before any of this.”
Mara’s eyes filled.
This time I didn’t look away.
She whispered, “You never said that either.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because people around me become targets.”
“I became one anyway.”
“Yes.”
“And because you’re afraid?”
That was harder.
“Yes.”
Mara stared at me.
I continued.
“I’m good at being feared. I’m not particularly good at being known.”
“I know you.”
“That terrifies me.”
Her eyes softened.
“Dominic.”
“I’m not asking you to stay.”
I pushed the box toward her.
“I’m telling you what I should have told you seven months ago.”
She looked at the box.
Then at me.
“I can’t marry you.”
The sentence cut cleanly.
I nodded.
“I understand.”
“But I didn’t say never.”
I looked up.
Mara closed the velvet box and pushed it back toward me.
“If you still want to ask someday, ask when we’re not employer and employee.”
Hope is a dangerous thing when you haven’t felt it often.
I said carefully, “So you’re quitting me professionally?”
“Yes.”
“But not personally?”
She smiled.
“We’ll see.”
“When?”
“Dominic.”
“I need measurable objectives.”
She laughed.
Actually laughed.
I had missed that sound more than I realized.
She lifted the box containing her belongings.
I took it from her.
“I can carry my own box.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you carrying it?”
“Because you nearly died three weeks ago and I need therapy.”
That earned another laugh.
At the front door, she turned.
“I’m renting office space downtown.”
“For what?”
“A nonprofit consulting firm.”
“Do you have clients?”
“One.”
“Who?”
“The Vale Foundation.”
I stared.
“You resigned and then charged me consulting fees?”
“Market rates.”
A slow smile crossed my face.
“You’re ruthless.”
“You taught me.”
“No.”
She opened the door.
“You were always better at it.”
The rain had finally stopped.
Mara stepped outside.
Then looked back.
“Dinner Friday?”
I almost forgot how to speak.
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“I’ll make a reservation.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Somewhere normal.”
“What qualifies as normal?”
“A place without armed men in private booths.”
“That removes most of my restaurants.”
“Figure it out.”
She walked away smiling.
For once, I let her.
May you like
Because this time I knew she planned to come back.
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