Worth

Chapter 17 (cont.)

Brief was the struggle between Violet's nature and her will. Her lower lip suffered, but she knew she had to call him and spell out exactly what she felt for him. She also knew that it was nearly nine o'clock in the morning in Sydney. She had to call him while she was brave enough. His cell phone rang forever.

"John Finch is currently unavailable. To leave a message, press one, otherwise, hold and your call will be forwarded. Note that long distance charges will apply."

She held. Should she hang up? She held a little longer.

"Vision Energy Technologies, this is Gertrude. How may I direct your call?" The woman's voice was gravelly with only a tinge of the Australian accent.

"I'm calling for John Finch," Violet said weakly.

"Extension number?"

"I'm not sure. His service forwarded me to this number. His name is Finch. John Finch."

"One moment please. I'll see if I can connect you."

"Thank you."

"But it's reeeally early for these guys." Click.

There was ringing in Violet's ear again. She could see it all now. An early morning meeting interrupted by an urgent call. The lights would go up and John would put down his laser pointer. Then there would be some embarrassing speaker phone mishap so the whole room would be treated to Violet's intercontinental desperation: "John, you should be dating me instead of your cousin!"

Violet heard another click and realized she'd been cut off. She dialled the number again, faster this time. This time it was not gravelly Gert, but another machine.

"Welcome to Vision Energy Technologies." This was immediately followed by the repetition of the greeting in an Asian language. "If you know the extension of the person you're trying to reach please enter it now. To speak to a representative, say, 'representative'."

Violet did so, but the computer did not recognize doubt. Another try and there was Gertrude.

"Yes, hello. I was –"

"Hold please," the receptionist said quickly. Violet heard a click and then Gertrude was back again. "So anyway, whatever liquid the recipe calls for you replace with a can of cream soda, but yes, you still need eggs."

"It's still me," Violet said.

"Oh, sorry," Gertrude said genuinely. "It's this new system. I said, put it in after the holidays, but no. How may I help you?"

"I was calling before for John Finch. I was disconnected at that extension you tried."

"It's one they usually assign to temporaries. It might be easier to just leave a message with the number you have."

"No, it's the sort of thing that needs to be said person to person."

"Dear, I hope it's not bad news," Gertrude said with a hint of curiosity.

"No, not exactly."

"Maybe you should call back in another hour or so. Someone will be in then who should have his number figured out."

"That's all right. Never mind, I guess," said Violet.

"Now wait just a minute" Gertrude clucked, "Let me see what I can do. Hold on a sec."

There were a number of clicks this time, a slight echoing and two short rings before someone picked up. Violet drew a deep breath.

"Scott Cross. This better be good."

"I'm sorry. I was misdirected."

"Right. Well, I'll send you back to switchboard. Tell whoever it is to put her glasses on. No one's looking."

"You're a real prig, Scott," Gertrude interrupted.

"Eavesdropping, Gert?"

"It's this new system," she said dismissively. She could get a lot of mileage out of that new system excuse.

Suddenly there were two clicks and then no Gert, no Scott Cross, only silence. For a moment.

"Hello?" said a voice.

Violet, thinking she was about to lose her mind, answered, "Hello?"

"Are we switched off, Gert? What happened?"

"I'm holding for an extension," Violet's fed up tone lashed out.

"Um, just a moment please," the second voice trailed away.

"Vision Energy Tech –" Violet's huff gave away her identity. Gertrude was very apologetic. "Oh, it's you. I'm just so sorry. I'm pretty sure I've got the right department so just hold one more time." Click. "Jenny, you twit. You're certainly no spy."

"Do you think she's going to tell him she's pregnant?" the familiar second voice asked.

"No, she's way too calm to be hormonal."

"Actually," said Violet, privy once again to the wrong information, "I'm very hormonal. Just not pregnant."

"I'm terribly sorry. I, oh, this is just...a very stupid morning I'm having and..."

"I'm hanging up now," Violet said.

"I'm not allowed to give out his hotel number, but I've found it if you like."

Rather than have a concierge try to keep up with her babbling, Violet called John's cell phone again and pressed the button to leave a message.

"Hi, John. It's Violet. I know it's early and you must be busy, but something just made sense to me and even if it doesn't make a difference, I wanted to let you know. When I said that I would never go out with you even if you paid me, I was just angry, and very wrong. Because I would go out with you anywhere. Because I like you so much more than I've been trying to say. If you're not really seeing Elsa then please call me, and if you are, then...I hope you're conference is going well. Merry Christmas."