Chapter 37

DORIS

I was at home looking at possible real estate leads and more marketing ideas that could utilize the new trends in A.I.

There was a knock at my door. I opened it, and it was the Federal Express delivery guy.

"Package for you," he said in a cheery voice. "You need to sign for it."

He thrust an electric tablet clipboard my way with a stylus, and I quickly scribbled my signature.

The box was small. I opened up the cardboard box. There was a black box inside with Catherine’s Premium Jewelers written across the front in silver script.

I opened the box, and the most beautiful gold bracelet I’d ever seen was lying on a pad of black velvet.

"Oooh," I said. I carefully picked the gold bracelet up and examined it. Every few links, a subtle line was woven through the bracelet that was more rose-colored gold and almost looked like hearts.

I saw a tiny bit of white, and I lifted the black velvet pad to find a note from Arthur underneath.

My Little Dove,

Please forgive me for not being more attentive these last few days. Lately, it has been hectic and stressful. But know that what has kept me going is thoughts of flying with you again.

It was just signed with the letter 'A'.

There was no doubt who it was from, and I have to admit getting the most expensive and beautiful piece of jewelry I’d ever had eased my ache and worries.

The next few days, I showed a few more luxury apartments, but I couldn’t tell from the clients' expressions if it was going to be a yes or a no.

After one of the appointments, I was standing in Midtown, and my stomach growled. I realize I had missed breakfast, trying to get ready and look so professional in my fancy new wardrobe, I had run out of the house with just a cup of coffee in a to-go cup, and that was all I had all day. It was almost three o’clock.

I looked around, hoping perhaps for a street vendor or a little deli, but what I saw was a beautiful French restaurant that had an advertisement for the day's daily lunch special on one of those chalkboard sawhorses in front of the restaurant. Suddenly nothing sounded better than a few minutes of respite over a delicious dish of French cuisine.

I walked into the restaurant and I was waiting for the hostess to come to the hostess stand, when I heard a little giggle, and my eyes were drawn to the very back left corner of the restaurant, where the lighting was dim and romantic.

There was Bob draped around a giggling blonde. She looked about 21 years old. Bob’s mouth was only an inch from hers, and then he whispered in her ear, and she giggled again.

They were clearly lovers. Bob had been married for about five weeks; his wife was pregnant. And Andrea was a vindictive lady, who was also his boss and could fire him in a split second.

I guess once a cheater, always a cheater.

I was glad to get rid of Bob, and I almost felt sorry for the young blonde, who I was sure didn’t know about Bob’s marriage.

It just reiterated to me how glad I was that I wasn't in my old situation. I didn’t work for Marcus Real Estate anymore, and I didn’t have to deal with lowlifes like Bob.

Then a horrible thought occurred to me. Arthur had never said we were exclusive. He never even hinted at it.

And Arthur was gone and a lot. Was it possible that he was with another woman when he wasn’t with me?

Of course, it was possible. Arthur was incredibly handsome. He was a billionaire. He was the most eligible bachelor in New York City.

And anyone who got to know him could see that he was loyal, and vulnerable. Arthur had a sense of humor and adventure.

Even Nina had asked me once if he had a brother. Obviously, Arthur would be like addictive man-candy to any woman.

I felt a white-hot lightning bolt of green envy slam right into my belly. The jealousy hit me so hard I wanted to double over.

The hostess approached me. "I’m sorry, I changed my mind." I turned around. Faster than an Olympic sprinter, I walked right out the door.

I ignored my stomach growls, and now stomach acid upset, until I got home.

I dropped my keys on the side table with a loud thunk, and I let my purse drop to the floor.

"Arthur is not Bob," I said out loud. "There’s no point in being jealous over some mystery woman who might not even exist."

And while Arthur and I hadn’t had the relationship talk, the way our sex was more than just sex, the way it felt like a cosmic soul connection, I had to believe that he wasn’t spending his time away from me with someone else.

I shook my wrist so the gold bracelet he gave me sparkled. Yes, he could buy a thousand bracelets a million times over, but this one was so much my style, so much what I would have bought for myself made me feel appreciated, that looking at it calmed my nerves.

I ordered a pizza. While waiting, I had a few vegetables and decided I would buy a very small toy for Mia and maybe some fresh flowers for Noah. I would forget all about Bob and enjoy the rest of my afternoon and evening.

I got a text from my biological father, Joe. He wanted me to have lunch or dinner with him tomorrow. I couldn't think of any excuse not to. He said a lot when he was standing outside my door, but in truth, it was too much to process.

What kind of man left his daughter and then never contacted her again for twenty-six years? I didn’t owe him a chance to have a father-daughter relationship, but I owed him a chance to explain himself.

He picked a place not far from my house. I responded I would meet him there and I put it in my calendar, although it’s not like I never forget.

The restaurant Joe picked was an American cuisine steakhouse. It wasn't what I would’ve picked, but it was fine.

Joe was on time. He was kind when he greeted me, and pulled out the seat for me in a very polite way. It was nice, but it just emphasized to me how much we were strangers.

I took a good look at him. I could see how I resembled him somewhat. We had the same sharp chin and wide forehead.

"Explain to me what you’ve been doing the last twenty-six years that was so important," I said. I meant it to be a gentle opening remark. It came out cold, bordering on rude.

"I'll back up and start at the beginning. I think I can tell you now that so much time has passed."

We pause as a waitress takes our order, and then Joe continues. "I was drafted into the CIA straight from college."

Joe explained what it was like to be a spy in Europe through different decades. And he also told me how hard it was to leave my mother, and how sure he was that by being with us, he could’ve put us in danger.

"As hard as it was to leave you, if you got hurt, that would’ve been harder. If someone killed you just to get to me, I would never have gotten over that. You can understand that, can’t you?"

Fortunately, or unfortunately, I could understand it. It didn’t make me like it.

Our meals came. The food was good and we dug into our steaks, eating mostly in silence.

"It would’ve been nice to have a father. I mean, you know, when I was a little kid," I said, finally.

"I’m sure it would have," Joe said. "I’m sorry that I couldn’t give that to you. When I look back on it, being more loyal to my country than staying close to my family was a mistake. But it was a strange time in history, and I thought the U.S. government needed me."

"There’s no way I can make it up to you, Doris. I can't change the past. I don’t want anything from you. I just wanted to see how wonderful my daughter had become and hear about your life."

I found myself telling him all about my three jobs, and the land track in Brooklyn that was being seized unreasonably.

"Let me see if I can find out what’s really going on there. I admire how persistent you’ve been with the New York City government, but from my days as a spy, I have contacts high up in the U.S. government if I talk to somebody in Washington DC this in reverse it for you."

"I don’t know, Joe. I would hate to put you out."

He reached across the table and put his hand on top of mine. "Let me do this one thing for you, Doris."

"OK," I said.

"I would change everything if I could," Joe said. "Trade my entire career to be a stay-at-home dad instead."

I raised my eyebrows skeptically.

“Nothing would be as rewarding as the chance to spend time with you, Doris,” Joe said. “Nothing.”