“Don’t be sorry. I had a great time.” Robin stood and picked up both their plates.
“So did I. Want to take some leftovers home? I’m not going to eat the rest of this spicy chicken.”
“Sure. Put whatever you don’t want into one. Save some for yourself, though.” Robin helped clean up as Jill bagged up the leftovers.
“Everything good to go?” Robin asked as she moved to the door.
“Yes, though I wish we had more time to talk.”
“Same here. But you’ve got an art gallery to decorate and a daughter to talk to.” She put her coat on, draped her scarf around her neck, and grabbed her hat.
“Which doesn’t preclude the original statement,” Jill said with a smile as she opened the door.
“Good.” Robin smiled back and followed her down the steps. Jill put the plastic bottles in a blue recycle bin and then dug a set of keys out of her pocket as they crossed the main room of the gallery to the front entrance.
This side of the street was already cloaked in early evening shadows, and Robin remembered that she had to go back to work tomorrow and deal with whatever crap Frost decided to throw at her. Her stomach clenched a little. Jill set the bag of food carefully on the floor, and Robin moved to the side so Jill could unlock the main entrance.
“Thanks again for lunch,” Robin said as she put her hat on and adjusted her scarf.
“You’re welcome. I’m really glad you indulged me.”
Robin started to button her coat, but Jill’s hand on hers made her stop. She looked at Jill, confused, her hand sparking from Jill’s touch, and fell right into Jill’s gaze. For a few moments, Robin forgot what she’d been doing with her coat in the first place. And then Jill took her hand off Robin’s and pulled her into an embrace, one of her arms around Robin’s waist inside her coat, the other around Robin’s neck. Robin froze, a potent combination of fear and desire cartwheeling through her chest, but she reacted to the feel of Jill’s body against hers and returned the embrace.
This is not a good idea. But God, it felt amazing to have Jill in her arms. This close, the notes of Jill’s cologne seared themselves into her brain, and even through the layers of clothing between them, the warmth of Jill’s body seemed to pour into the hole in the middle of Robin’s heart, both soothing and enticing.
“See you Tuesday.” Jill released her and picked up the bag of food.
“Yes. Looking forward to it,” Robin managed as she finished buttoning her coat and put her gloves on. She took the bag, glad for the extra protection of her glove between her fingers and Jill’s, because right now, Robin was a maelstrom of emotions and just one more touch could open a floodgate that she would not be able to control. “Later,” she said as Jill held the door open for her, an enigmatic smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Robin took a few steps, willing herself not to turn around. She lost the battle and threw a glance over her shoulder that Jill captured with the expression in her eyes. She waved, and Robin responded in kind then turned back into the biting wind, hoping it might freeze the heat that stirred at her core. It didn’t. Instead, it slowly spread through her limbs, burning openings in her armor. She envisioned herself walking toward the subway, bits of flaming metal lying in her wake, and when she actually did board the train, she sketched the image in the pocket notebook she’d taken to carrying around.
When she got home, evening had succumbed to nightfall. Robin put the food in the fridge, turned the lights out, and sank onto her couch to stare out across the city. How was it even possible to feel something for a woman who had dumped her all those years ago? Had she acquired a masochistic streak in the wake of her dealings (delusions?) with the Bureau?
What she was feeling was probably one-sided and had only flared up because she was in such a weird place emotionally after the past two weeks. Hopefully, Caroline and Jill would spark on Tuesday, and then Robin could rest easy, knowing that she’d ensured a future for Jill that wouldn’t be like the one Krampus had showed her. She turned a light on and retrieved her laptop from her bedroom. Though she’d rather be drawing, she needed to start working in earnest on her own future, because from how things were going, it probably didn’t include Frost Enterprises.
CHAPTER 12
Robin arrived at the office ready for battle—whatever form it took. She’d spent some time dealing with work email the night before and doing her usual prep for the day’s meetings. As far as she was concerned, her demeanor would be business as usual, no matter what the day brought. She took up her new work position on the couch, her feet on the coffee table, and sent her latest set of figures around to the relevant email list for discussion.
Laura entered and shut the door behind her. Robin looked up, and from Laura’s expression, something was on her mind.
“What’s up?” she asked as Laura approached.
“Mr. Frost wants to see you.”
Robin’s stomach knotted. “He called?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t he call me directly?”
“I don’t know.”
Robin set her laptop on the couch next to her. “Can’t be good.”
Laura shook her head. “Megan hasn’t heard anything, but Brady Herrington was in Mr. Frost’s office early this morning for over an hour.”
Robin sighed. “Hell.” Let the games begin. She grabbed her wingtips and put them back on. Since she couldn’t wear motorcycle boots at the office, these were her corporate power shoes. Laura stood nearby, holding Robin’s blazer.
“Thanks.” Robin put her jacket on. “If you don’t hear from me in an hour, send a search party.”
“Or rescue mission.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” Her stomach continued to roil, though she knew it wasn’t obvious from her tone or appearance.
“Good luck.” Laura’s expression was a mixture of worry and empathy. She followed Robin out of the office and shut the door behind them both. Robin heard it click as she strode down the hall to the elevator. She pressed the up button and waited, trying to calm her nerves. After all, she’d seen this coming. There was no place for a rebel in a corporation like this. Especially not a woman.
The elevator door opened, and she stepped on and pushed the button for Frost’s floor. She was the only occupant and it gave her time to steel herself for whatever corporate was about to give her.
“What do you really want, sugar?”
Robin rolled her eyes. “On the elevator, too?” she muttered. She glanced around, but nobody else was with her. Christ. So she had voices in her head, now.
“Only ours, honey,” Lady Magnolia said. “Tell the Lady what you really want.”
“I don’t know. That’s the point of this exercise,” Robin snapped.
“Sugar, denial ain’t a river in Egypt.”
“Perhaps we should allow Ms. Preston to find her own way.”
Krampus, too? “Why is the Bureau still hanging around? It’s past Christmas.”
“Consider it charity,” Magnolia responded.
“You didn’t answer her question,” Decker piped in. “What do you really want?”
“Get out of my head, please,” Robin snapped. “It’s a bad enough neighborhood already.”
Lady Magnolia laughed.
“So what’s your answer?” Decker pressed, her voice bouncing around Robin’s skull.
“I told you, I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.” This was the longest elevator ride in history. Why weren’t they moving?
“You do know. You just won’t admit it,” Decker said.
“Fine,” Robin shot back. “I want to take this whole corporation and tell Frost to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”
“We know that, honey. And we also know you’re far too savvy to engage that approach. But what else do you want?” Magnolia practically purre
d in her ear.
Robin stifled an urge to press the button to Frost’s floor again. She doubted she’d get there any faster. “Maybe I don’t want to be corporate anymore. I don’t think I ever actually fit here. And why are we doing therapy on an elevator?”
“It’s a metaphor,” Decker snarked right back. “What goes up must come down. Anything else you’d want after that whole sun don’t shine thing?”
“I don’t know.” But she did. She’d take Jill out to dinner, where they could look out over the water and talk about art and life and whatever else Jill felt like talking about. And then maybe they wouldn’t want to talk anymore—Oh, God. As if her life wasn’t complicated already.
“That’s it, sugar. Just say it.”
“What?”
“The dinner part,” Decker said.
“Ladies, perhaps Ms. Preston would rather not voice some of her thoughts.”
“Thank you, Kr—uh…Mr. Rampus. Maybe I wouldn’t.” Was this elevator going to the Moon? “Besides, it’s a little rude, looking at my thoughts.”
“Honey, you’re more transparent about some things than an invisible negligee. No use trying to hide it. My mama always said that the person you lie to most is yourself.”
“All right. Fine. I might…want to take Jill to dinner. There. Happy now? And it’s really complicated, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it, to acknowledge that?” Decker said as the elevator doors slid open, and Robin waited for somebody to say something else, but her head held only the usual cacophony of her own thoughts. Dinner with Jill. Seriously?
She stepped off and walked down the corridor to Frost’s office, envisioning herself as a gladiator about to step into an arena. That would make a cool drawing, she thought as she approached Megan’s work area.
“Mr. Frost is expecting you, Ms. Preston,” Megan said as Robin approached. “Go right in.”
Robin gave her a nod and a smile and opened the door into Frost’s domain, an office twice the size of hers, with even plusher carpet and a more spectacular view. Frost also kept a bar in the corner. She had no doubt lots of decisions were made and deals done over the liquor therein. Most likely very expensive top-shelf brands.
“Mr. Frost,” Robin said as she closed the door behind her. “My assistant informed me that you wanted to see me.”
He looked up from his desk, and it was strange to see him there, because Robin never thought of him as actually working at his desk. She’d never seen him do it, the few times she’d been to his office. Rather, he ordered and directed, while pacing near the windows or from the plush black leather couch near the bar.
“Have a seat, Preston,” he said as he looked back at the papers on his desk. Robin recognized it as the power trip it was and opted not to let it bother her. She chose the middle chair of the three facing Frost’s desk and got comfortable, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Preston, I’ve been thinking.” Frost took his glasses off and leaned back. She didn’t respond and instead made herself appear even more comfortable and at ease.
“Frost Enterprises, as you know, has a set mission and a certain corporate culture,” he continued, and it sounded rehearsed. When she didn’t respond, he shifted a little, and Robin hoped he felt uncomfortable. “I recently spoke with several board members, and we think someone of your outlook and talents would be a better fit elsewhere.”
There it was. Robin refused to respond as he probably expected her to. She raised an eyebrow and maintained her relaxed position. “I see,” she said. “And what precisely does that mean?” Besides me shoving this tower right up your corporate butt? But that wouldn’t accomplish much in terms of financial leverage, and she definitely wouldn’t have the moral high ground.
He shifted again, and Robin read surprise and discomfort in his expression. “We’d like to transfer you to one of our start-ups in China.”
Robin took a few moments to process that. She’d expected he might do a transfer, but not halfway around the world.
“Guangzhou,” he said. “We’ve been working on getting a better base there, and we need someone who can hit the ground running.” His enthusiasm sounded forced. “We’d increase your pay, and ensure housing and transportation, of course.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
“Consulting,” he said, and she gave him props for his political vagueness. Corporate-speak for “warehoused figurehead.”
Robin had been to that facility. It was where Frost had sent a couple of his other “problem children.” Most resigned within a year. “And if I prefer to stay here and continue in my current capacity?” Robin kept her voice and demeanor calm.
Frost leaned back again, but if he was trying to appear relaxed, it didn’t work. Instead, he looked like a kid who’d been busted telling a huge lie to his parents. “We’ve decided to close your position and do some internal reorganization.”
So her choices were China or layoff.
“We think Frost—and you—would be best served in China,” he hastily added. “Especially given your talents and—” He stopped, as if searching for the best word. “Outlook.”
They were pushing her out. Leaving was thus on her, since they could point to this “fabulous” opportunity they were offering her. “You said consulting. Does that mean I would be in charge of Guangzhou? Last I heard, there were problems with the current administration.”
That took him aback. He glanced away, then back at her. “We could probably arrange a supervisory position of some sort.”
“So I’d be supervising the current leadership? And I’d be the direct report?”
Again, Frost glanced away. Maybe he hadn’t considered the possibility that she might take him up on this. Not that she would. But she didn’t want to show her hand.
“I’ll look into that.”
“When will you know?” Robin liked pushing him a little. It suited her new perspective and current mood.
“The end of the week.” His expression matched the sourness in his tone, audible even under the gravel that marred it.
“That gives me time to give some more thought to your offer.” Robin smiled, but it wasn’t genuine. She didn’t care.
“I’ll let you know what I hear.” This conversation hadn’t gone the way he’d wanted. Robin could hear it in his voice and see it in the way he kept shifting his weight in his chair. Relaxed people didn’t do that.
She stood, sensing dismissal behind his words. “Thank you. I’ll expect to hear from you at the end of the week, if not sooner.” She threw the last dig in as she left his office. Megan looked up at her, and Robin shrugged and smiled in that conspiratorial way employees had when dealing with the boss.
Fortunately, the elevator opened almost immediately when she pressed the button and once again, she was alone when the doors closed. “Hello?” she said. No response. She exhaled, relieved, and then elation made her want to jump up and down, but she wasn’t sure why. The CEO of Frost Enterprises had pretty much ensured her career with the company was at an end, but all she could think was “what’s next?” She toyed with the ring on her pinkie as the elevator released her.
Laura looked up from her desk as Robin approached.
“Give me a few minutes.” Robin smiled and entered her office before Laura could respond. Her business cell lay on the couch next to her laptop, and she picked it up and scrolled through her contacts until she came to the one she wanted and pressed it.
“Pruitt and Associates. How may I help you?” came the answer. Crisp, professional, bland. Robin envisioned the woman on the other end in a dark skirt suit, hair arranged perfectly. She had the kind of neutral voice that could have been on any radio station in the country.
“Hi, there. This is Robin Preston at Frost Enterprises. I’m wondering if Mr. Pruitt is available for a brief conversation.”
Pause. “I’m sorry, Ms. Preston, but he’s in a meeting. I’ll be glad to leave him a message.”
“I’d appreciate that, Ms.—” she stopped so the other woman could fill in her name.
“Brewster. Your message?”
“Please tell Mr. Pruitt that I may have solved his personal assistant problem. He can call me at this number for more details.” She provided her business cell and Ms. Brewster recited it back to her. “Yes, that’s it. Thank you.”
Ms. Brewster provided a crisp, professional, and very bland signoff. Robin hung up and remained standing, tapping her phone against her chin. Her personal cell sat on the coffee table, and she exchanged her business cell for it. A text message from Jill made her heart speed up a little, though it shouldn’t have. None of the feelings that had been coming up for Jill should be happening. Robin opened the message. Jill had sent a photo of the gallery wall, no longer blank. Four of her mixed media pieces hung on it. Teaser, she’d written. You’ll have to wait ’til tomorrow to see more.
Robin grinned. You are a total tease, she texted back. Looking forward to the show. Thanks again for lunch. She hit send, and it felt dangerous. It was on the edge of flirtatious, and that could bring trouble. No, it would bring trouble. Robin texted Caroline to make sure she was still coming to the opening. Because now more than ever, Robin needed a boundary between her and Jill. Especially since she’d admitted aloud that she wanted to take Jill to dinner. Which meant that Robin would gladly do other intimate things with Jill.
“You should ask her out,” Decker said.
“It does not endear you to me when you poke through my personal thoughts,” Robin said as she looked up. Decker was leaning against her desk, wearing jeans, penny loafers, and a button-down blue Oxford shirt.
“And here I thought we were finally making progress in our relationship.” Decker pointed at Robin’s cell. “You’ve already had a couple of lunches with Chen. Why not go the next meal up?”
The Bureau of Holiday Affairs Page 17