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Undue Competition

Page 10

by R A Wallace


  “You were at my job site earlier.” He made it sound like an accusation.

  “I was. I didn’t want to bother you then. I knew you were working.” Callie introduced herself. “You’re Bobby, right? You saw Carlos speaking with me earlier. That should tell you something. I promise I won’t take much of your time.”

  Bobby hunched his shoulders and put his hands in his jean pockets. “What about?”

  “Guy Gallagher.” Callie thought she saw Bobby relax a bit.

  “I don’t know anything.” It came out quickly.

  “Maybe you know more than you think.” Callie flashed a confident smile even as she wondered how much the employees at the job site today had talked about her visit.

  He shrugged. “I just started working for the man this past year.”

  “You must know something about him,” she insisted.

  “That’s just it. I didn’t really know him. I just worked for his company.” He dug his hands deeper into his pockets.

  “But you worked for him. He was your boss. He assigned you to work crews, he sent you out to jobs. You interacted with him.” She watched as he offered another shrug. Her eyes narrowed. “You guys are probably happy now that he isn’t around to tell you what to do.”

  “Hardly.” His face became animated. “Now we’re stuck with Jesse and that’s way worse.”

  “Jesse Dixon is assigning the crews to jobs?” She knew as much but phrased her comment in the form of a question.

  Bobby pulled his hands from his pockets and began using them to talk. “I can’t figure out who put him in charge.”

  “Maybe he just stepped up?” Callie watched the scowl cross Bobby’s face.

  “If that’s what you call it. It was bad enough when he did it behind Gallagher’s back. Now he’s doing it all of the time.”

  ***

  The noise was deafening. He could feel the base in his chest. Greyson scanned the crowd that had formed around the center of the dance floor. They were all watching Makayla gyrate to the music. Greyson had to admit, she had some sort of style doing it. He couldn’t really blame everyone for either wanting to watch her or to join her. Many in the room were currently doing one or the other.

  He leaned against the end of the bar where she’d banished him upon arriving at the club. He’d agreed, but only because it offered him the best view of the room. From where he stood, he could see anyone entering or leaving the club, every drink glass on the bar including the one Makayla had abandoned to dance, and the path to the restrooms.

  The lights in the place were pulsating with the music. It made it more difficult to see, but not impossible. Greyson watched as one young guy in the crowd around Makayla approached closer to her. The young male positioned himself within inches of Makayla, as though he alone was dancing with her.

  Greyson pushed himself away from the bar ready to fight his way through the crowd and insert himself between the two dancers in the middle. Before he made it two steps, he saw Makayla smile, then expertly turn, making some sort of orchestrated dance movement away from the unknown male. The young man took the hint and moved away. Greyson repositioned himself against the bar and let out a sigh that no one, including himself, could hear.

  A movement at the other end of the bar caught his attention as the music volume began to diminish. It was the end of the current dance tune. He knew another would replace it immediately. It was the job of the DJ to keep everyone entertained. Apparently, Makayla was going to sit the next one out. He saw her begin to move through the crowd that parted like magic before her. He knew were she was headed. She’d no doubt worked up a thirst after dancing for so long.

  Greyson quickly followed the length of the bar and grabbed her hand as she reached for her drink. Her eyes were filled with surprise that anyone would grab her. Once she realized who it was, they narrowed with annoyance.

  “What are you doing? I’m thirsty.” She pulled her arm away from his grasp.

  He reached for the drink instead and pushed it away, signaling for the bar tender as he did. “Not that one.”

  “I can drink whatever I want!” Her chin rose. “I’m of age.”

  The bartender joined them. “You need to monitor your bar better,” Greyson told the bartender without taking his eyes from Makayla.

  “Exactly what does that mean?” Makayla demanded.

  The bartender crossed his massive arms. “My question exactly. Explain yourself.”

  “I saw someone slip something into your drink.” He pointed at Makayla. “You should know better than to leave a drink like that and then expect to drink it when you get back.” He pointed at the bartender. “You should watch your clientele better.”

  Greyson couldn’t tell which face looked more mutinous. He knew that both were about to erupt. He pulled out his phone and showed them the video he’d taken. Makayla continued to stare at his phone in surprise long after the video ended. The bartender began scanning the crowd then took off when he spotted the culprit.

  ***

  The noise in the pizza shop was a mix of music and voices as some of the students from the IT competition shared stories about their day. Michael and Sierra stepped up to the counter to place their order. The tables were all taken. They figured if they had any hope of getting food, it would be quicker to go straight to the source.

  Sierra pointed at the display of pizza. “I’ll just have a slice of that one and a medium drink.”

  Michael held up four fingers and pointed at another pie that had everything but the kitchen sink on it. Sierra scanned the room as Michael handed over money. She elbowed him and pointed then quickly moved across the room to grab two chairs as someone else stood up. Michael joined her a few moments later carrying a tray with their food and drinks.

  “Good job,” he said as he took a seat.

  “I thought we’d have to stand to eat.” Sierra reached for her drink as she looked around the room. Her eyes met Michael’s.

  Michael offered a wry grin. “I don’t remember being this young.”

  “Same here.” She sipped her drink and leaned forward over the table. “I’m not sure this is going to work.”

  He held up a piece of his pizza. “Let’s give it a try.”

  She watched him take a bite and reached for a plastic fork and knife to cut her slice into bite sized pieces. “I recognize some of the kids at the next table.”

  Michael took another bite and nodded. He took some napkins from the dispenser on the table. After handing some to Sierra, he turned to the table next to them. “Can I borrow your hot pepper?”

  There were six of them crowded around the small table. The group eyed Sierra and Michael suspiciously at first.

  “Oh, hey. I recognize you. You two were at the contest, right?” The young man speaking picked up the dispenser filled with red flakes. “Here you go. Are you two of the judges?”

  “No, they’re presenters.” Another young man motioned to the people around the table. “I’m Aiden. I was in one of your classes. This is Xiang, Carter, Lily, Angelina, and Jordyn.” Aiden’s eyes looked above Michael. “Oh, and here’s Alejandro.”

  Another young man joined the group, dragging a chair from a nearby table with him as he approached. The group shifted around to make room for the additional chair.

  Alejandro nodded to Sierra and Michael then turned to the young people at his table. They begin discussing their day.

  Michael turned a rueful smile toward Sierra. “Good pizza, anyway.”

  She smiled back before taking a bite from her plastic fork. “I think we’re officially too old.”

  He laughed, then turned serious. “Maybe having Ariana work with us isn’t crazy after all.”

  “I can’t blame them. We were the same way at their age. Don’t you remember?” She took another bite of pizza.

  “I remember trying to get your attention a lot,” he said.

  Her hand froze midair. “Really?”

  He smiled. “Really. Why do you think I sig
ned up for all of those math classes?”

  She pointed her fork at him. “Because you liked them.”

  He nodded amiably. “That too but I made it a point to sign up for the same ones you did.”

  “You were in a lot of my programming classes too.” She took another bite of pizza and thought back then her eyes narrowed. “Exactly how did you know what my schedule was every semester.”

  He didn’t look up from his pizza. “You don’t want to know.”

  “You hacked the registration system?” She looked around then lowered her voice. “Tell me you didn’t.”

  He grinned. “I didn’t.” He picked up his second piece of pizza. “I figured out the classes you still needed each semester based on the classes you had already taken previously and ran an algorithm to determine the most likely sections you would register for each semester based on the days and times they were offered. I crossed that with the names of the instructors to eliminate any possible sections that you might avoid.”

  “Sneaky,” she said.

  “But effective most of the time,” he agreed.

  ***

  “Where are you taking me?” Makayla crossed her arms and stared out the passenger-side window of Greyson’s car.

  “It’s late. You never did eat at the nightclub.” Greyson slowed to take another turn.

  “I didn’t do much of anything. Someone made my night impossible to enjoy.” She turned to glare at him in the dark.

  “It wasn’t me. I was the guy who stopped you from being drugged and no doubt taken advantage of.” He pointed to himself. “Good guy.”

  She turned back to the view from her window. He could feel her sulking. He glanced at the time and winced. It was late for him but he knew it was still very early for her. For a brief moment, he almost felt guilty that her night had ended so early. Almost.

  “Why do you do this?” He glanced at her profile in the dark.

  “Do what?” Her voice was cold.

  He waved vaguely. “This. Force yourself to go out nearly every evening looking for amusement.”

  “What makes you think I’m not having fun?” She was illuminated for a moment as a car approached from the other direction. Her arms were no longer crossed. She was clasping her hands in her lap.

  “I’ve been watching you. I know what I’m seeing.” He stopped at a red light.

  “You don’t know anything,” she said quietly.

  “I disagree. I know you don’t particularly care for your stepmother.” He glanced her way but couldn’t see her face this time. “At least, you don’t seem to like the fact that she’s married to your father.”

  Makayla remained silent.

  He let out a sigh. “She’s not the enemy, you know.”

  She turned to him quickly. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her too?”

  He pulled into the parking lot, turned off the engine, and unbuckled his seat belt.

  She didn’t move. “What are we doing here?”

  “I repeat. You didn’t eat. Neither did I.” He opened the door and got out. He figured what happened next was up to her. The sound of the car door opening and closing almost surprised him. He didn’t slow his pace until he reached the front door of the Regal Pomelo. When she caught up to him, he opened the front door and let her enter first. He saw Ginny at the front station with the hostess.

  She glanced from Greyson to Makayla then moved forward with her arms open. She immediately engulfed Makayla in a hug. Greyson watched as Makayla stiffened immediately but Ginny held on a moment longer. Finally, Makayla’s arm came up to return the hug. Greyson wondered how long it had been since the young girl had been hugged by anyone else.

  “You I’ve never seen before. Do you like Italian?” Ginny laughed at herself as she took Makayla’s arm and guided her to a table. “What am I saying? Everyone loves Italian, right? I have a special tonight that seemed to go well with my guests. It was the first time I’ve offered it. I’d like you to try it and give me your honest opinion.”

  Makayla’s eyes shifted to Greyson when he took the seat across from her. Ginny disappeared into the kitchen. “I take it you know her?”

  Greyson smiled. It was the first time he’d seen her try humor.

  A waiter appeared with two glasses of wine. “This will go well with your dinner.”

  Makayla watched the waiter leave as she raised the glass to her lips. Her brows went up for a fleeting moment. “Not bad.”

  Greyson took a sip. “I think it’s great.”

  “What’s for dinner?” she asked.

  “I never really know with Ginny. Her other customers get to pick, of course. She usually decides for her friends. Whatever it is, I know it will be good.” He looked toward the kitchen. “And here it comes.”

  Makayla shifted her glass to the side as Ginny set a plate in front of her. “Monkfish with prosciutto and artichokes?”

  “You know this?” Ginny looked excited. “Take a bite.” She waved at both of them. “Eat up, you’re killing me here.”

  Greyson took a bite. “This is awesome.”

  Ginny shifted her eyes to Makayla.

  “I’ve had this in Italy,” Makayla said. “Yours is much better.”

  Ginny’s smile was both spontaneous and contagious. “You two enjoy. Wait till you see the dessert.”

  Makayla looked surprised to see the deep dimples bracket Greyson’s mouth. Her smile was more hesitant, but definitely there.

  He watched Makayla take another sip of her wine. “In answer to your earlier question, no. I have no interest in your father’s wife. My point is, this isn’t a competition. You do not need to compete for your father’s attention.”

  Makayla dropped her eyes to her dinner. Her hands rested lightly on either side of her plate. “I do get bored. You were right about that.”

  “Then why do it every night?”

  She gave an elegant shrug. “What else would I do?”

  The ideas that ran through his head were endless. “Take up cooking.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “What?”

  “I don’t know. You seem to know food.”

  She looked away for a moment then turned back to him. “I know a lot of things.”

  “Like what?” He took another bite of his dinner.

  She picked up her fork. “I’m sure you looked into my past. A man like you wouldn’t leave any stones unturned.”

  “You majored in art, I believe? With dual minors in psychology and history?”

  “I did,” she agreed. “And it was okay, but I wouldn’t say I’m as passionate about those subjects as I would need to be to work at it for the rest of my life.”

  “Fair enough. What are you passionate about?” He watched her pick at her food and knew he’d hit a nerve. “What about your father’s business?”

  Her eyes flew to his. Her chin rose. “I think I would be very good at it.”

  A corner of his mouth turned up. “I don’t doubt it.” He reached for his wine. “What did he say?”

  Her brows went up again. “Say?”

  “When you asked him.” He took a sip. “To join his business.”

  She stared at him for a moment, her fork poised above her plate. “I didn’t.”

  He laughed. “Why not? All he can do is say no. Then you start your own business. Right?”

  She took a bite and chewed. “I wonder what we’re having for dessert?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Early the next morning, Callie sat in her car on another street in Pomelo Cove. This neighborhood was part of the original town. The houses were large as were the manicured yards around them. Though no longer as affluent as the owners of the large homes once were, the current inhabitants gave the impression of being comfortable. It was a quiet neighborhood dotted with a profusion of colors from the landscaping adorning most of the properties.

  As soon as the front door opened, Callie slipped from her car. The man she approached was carrying a large lunch cooler and was dressed
for work. Callie crossed the street and met him halfway down the walkway leading to his front door. There was a pickup truck parked in front of the house. She assumed it was his.

  “Luis? I’m Callie Indigo. I’d like to ask you a few questions.” She stopped walking when he did.

  He didn’t look surprised to see her. She wondered if Bobby or one of the others had warned the rest of the Gallagher employees.

  Luis moved toward his truck and opened the driver’s side door. Callie knew that if he got inside, her chance to speak to him was lost. He tossed his cooler inside then turned back to look at her.

  “So, ask.”

  She took a step closer to him. “Have you worked for Gallagher’s long?”

  “About ten years now.” He waited for her next question.

  “You knew Guy for a long time. Before he moved back to Florida,” she said. “From what I can tell, he never married.”

  “Was that a question?” Luis shifted his feet and he leaned against the open driver’s side door with one arm.

  “Did he ever seem to get close to marriage?” Callie asked.

  Luis looked away from her for a moment as though considering it. “There were women over the years. Nothing ever seemed serious.”

  “Do you know why?” Callie asked.

  He moved to get into his truck. “He never talked about it with me.”

  Callie took another step closer. “Who would he have talked to about something like that?”

  Luis started his truck. “No clue. You might try Sam. He worked for Guy longer.”

  Callie watched as Luis drove away then returned to her own car.

  ***

  Jo watched Mack inhale a banana. “I thought you didn’t eat anything healthy?”

  Mack stared at the empty banana peel in his hand. “This is healthy? I thought anything that came out of the vending machine was safe?”

  Jo turned around to her computer. “Did you finish entering your notes?”

  “I did.” Mack sent the banana peel sailing across to the trash can. It hit the rim and hung there, the individual sections of peel holding on like a large yellow spider. “You?”

 

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