by Louise Clark
“What can I do about it?”
“Good question. I don’t think anyone has ever tried to stop being a Beacon, sis.”
“Or if they have, they haven’t explained how they did it,” Faith said gloomily.
“Cheer up. Life with Andrew is about to get pretty interesting.”
“So is life with Cody Simpson.” Faith groaned and closed her eyes. “I feel like I’m in a car with no breaks. My life is suddenly out of control and there is nothing I can do about it.”
Elizabeth came over to the sofa to give her a hug. “I’ve got to be off, but listen, don’t sweat it. Everything will work out.”
“Sure,” Faith said, not believing it for an instant.
After Elizabeth had gone, Faith returned to the sofa and curled her legs beneath her. Propping her elbow on the arm, she rested her chin on her palm and stared unseeing at the fireplace. As long as she continued to have her ancestor travel through time to visit her she would always feel different from those around her.
Hell, she didn’t just feel different, she was different!
So if she wanted to stop being different, if she wanted to fit into the normal world, she must stop Andrew from visiting her.
She sat for a long time with only the light from the hallway to relieve the darkness of the room. The gloom matched her mood. Andrew was a friend and in his way, he depended on her. What she was thinking of doing was a betrayal. Yet, if she didn’t stop being a Beacon she would never have a normal life.
There was no easy answer. She hadn’t expected there would be.
Chapter 6
Faith stood at the bottom of the square, modern staircase that led to the second floor, looking up. She rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. It was mid-week and Angela’s computer problems wouldn’t go away. There had been incidents on both Monday and Tuesday, which Faith had sorted out when Cody didn’t respond to requests for assistance. Each time had Faith looking over her shoulder, watching nervously for Ava Taylor to appear. So far she’d lucked out. Ava hadn’t noticed.
But this had to stop and today was the day she was going to make that happen. She could do this. She would do this.
She started up the stairs. Got to the landing where the staircase broke to change direction. And stopped.
It would really be much easier to fix the problem herself. It would only take an hour or so. Maybe. She turned around, heading back down the steps she’d mounted.
“Looking for me?”
There was amusement in Cody Simpson’s voice, curse him. He knew he was running her ragged over this computer stuff, but he didn’t care. Oh no, he thought it a great joke. She had undermined her position with her staff, watched productivity fall, worked late to make up time, all because Cody Simpson refused to fulfill his responsibilities. Worse, he’d put her in the position of skulking around to avoid Ava as she defied the COO’s edict that Cody was to fix all the computer problems that came up. And now she was here, on the stairs, in the embarrassing position of being caught obviously chickening out on her decision to climb up to his lair to confront him.
Slowly she turned. He was standing on the landing, effectively towering over her. To look him in the eye she had to tilt her head back to the point where she figured she’d fall over if she leaned back any further.
It was tough to exchange loaded comments with a man who was not only taller than you, but was way taller. In fact, it was hard to talk at all with her neck bent back so far. She straightened up, squared her shoulders and said, “When you come down a step and stop standing over me like some avenging male deity, I’ll answer that.” Heavens, she sounded bitchy.
Cody raised his brows, but he came down to the step she was on. “Is this all right, or would you prefer I go down another couple?”
Now that sounded like a good idea. Much as she wanted to stay grumpy, Faith couldn’t. The thought of Cody’s dark head coming up to her chin tickled her sense of humor and she laughed. “I certainly would prefer it, but I doubt you’d be quite that accommodating.”
He leaned against the builders’ white wall, his broad shoulders emphasized by a t-shirt on which ‘Red Socks Rule!’ was written in bright red letters, while his dark hair and blue eyes were vivid above the navy color of the shirt. He shoved his hands into the pockets of worn, rumpled jeans. “An interesting reading of my character.”
“You’re not exactly my favorite person right now.”
He frowned. “Why? I haven’t talked to you since last week.”
“Exactly. I’ve been covering for you, Simpson. Fixing all the spreadsheet, word processing, and database problems you won’t!”
“Thanks.”
“Is that it? Thanks?”
He shrugged. “Should there be more?”
From the way his brows rose and his eyes frosted to an icy blue, he’d just uttered a challenge he didn’t intend to back down from. Briefly Faith wondered if she was ready to meet him word for word, then she consoled herself that doing battle was not her style. Though Cody Simpson brought out confrontational elements in her personality she didn’t know existed, she refused to sink to his argumentative level.
“There should be,” she said coolly, “but I don’t bother with expectations that can’t be met.”
The ice in his eyes frosted further, then amusement warmed and darkened the blue. “Well,” he said, “that certainly puts me in my place.”
Faith almost gasped. Almost. She was very proud that she managed to stifle the sound before it popped out. Cody Simpson was absolutely the most annoying man she had ever had to deal with, and that included that eighteenth century chauvinist, Andrew Byrne, and her constantly disapproving father. “I am tired of working late,” she said. What she really meant was I’m tired of looking over my shoulder. That was an admission of failure she wasn’t prepared to make, though.
“It does get to you after a while, doesn’t it,” Cody said in a way that suggested he felt a certain kinship with her statement. “Come in late the next morning if you can. It makes it easier to handle.”
As if she had that luxury! Her job description said she had to be in the office by eight-thirty and stay until four-thirty. As the supervisor of a dozen support staff she had to lead by example. How could she expect her staff to arrive on time if she waltzed in halfway through the day? “Fascinating advice. My point is that I do not intend to continue covering for you, Mr. Simpson—”
“Doctor.”
His gently spoken interruption stopped her mid-tirade. “Excuse me?”
“If you want to be formal I’m Doctor Simpson. I have a PhD in computer science.”
Of course he did. That was probably in his job description. This discussion was going from bad to dreadful. She glanced at her watch. “Point taken, Doctor Simpson. It’s been nice talking to you, but I have to run.” She trotted down the stairs, well aware that he was following behind her at a more reasonable pace. Good manners and corporate policy said she ought to slow down and walk with him making pleasant small talk, but she just couldn’t handle it. Not today, not with Cody Simpson.
It wasn’t until she’d reached the security of her office, that she finally felt able to breathe a sigh of relief. When would she learn to listen to her instincts? The next computer that broke down, she’d fix. And the next, and the next after that. Ava Taylor could drop loaded hints about protocol and productivity into infinity if she wanted. Faith would handle her. She could not handle Cody Simpson. The less she had to do with that gorgeous, annoying—frustrating—male, the better.
Cody couldn’t concentrate. He was meeting with Ralph Warren about the status of the network redesign and the new piece of software he was developing and he couldn’t concentrate. Well, maybe that was because Ralph was cheerfully describing every stroke of his most recent golf game. Cody had never had much interest in golf, although he supposed a certain amount of mathematical precision would be needed to ensure the ball got to the pin. As well, it was a solitary sport, something that a
ppealed to him, but it was usually played in groups, something that did not. Cody got his exercise jogging, swimming, and skiing, and he lifted weights to keep up his muscle strength. All were activities that he could do at his own pace, in his own time, and on his own. He didn’t like the boundaries and ties that groups put on individual choices.
Ralph had whacked his way through the first nine holes and he was deep into his story. As he talked he occasionally patted the top of his nearly bald head. Once upon a time, at the beginning of the computer revolution, Ralph Warren had been a high tech guru. Part hippy, part geek, he’d sported long hair and brightly flowered shirts. He’d worked at a think tank that paid him lots of money, but didn’t treat his ideas with the passion he expected. When the opportunity came, he’d slipped the traces of academia for the pure joy of creation and moved into the practical world where his ideas would have more immediate applications. The flowered shirts and long hair disappeared as he navigated the corporate world and by the time he started his own company he’d been all but bald and wore a suit and tie to work.
Ralph Warren rarely did any research now, but that didn’t stop him from appreciating the kind of work Cody did. His scientific background combined with his corporate viewpoint also made him well aware of the benefits scientific breakthroughs could bring to his company. That was why he had hired Cody, provided him with a nice title, a big salary, and no responsibilities other than doing what he did best—research and development.
When the golf game was over, he and Ralph would spend the next two hours talking in the mathematical language both of them loved. In the meantime, Ralph’s eyes gleamed as he described his weekend foursome. Clearly he had transferred the intensity he brought to his company onto his golf game. Cody figured he should be listening attentively, but he couldn’t. There just wasn’t enough thought-provoking material to keep his mind from wandering. Ralph was a decent guy, though, so he made the appropriate noises to indicate interest as he let his thoughts drift to more interesting places.
Or more interesting people. Like Faith Hamilton. An image of her on the stairs, her head tilted up, her deep-set gray-green eyes blazing, made him grin—almost. It wasn’t the right place to laugh in Ralph’s ever-lengthening story.
Faith Hamilton was a gorgeous woman. She was tall, just a few inches shorter than his six-two, and curved in all the right places. Her slacks had hugged her nicely rounded hips, while a knit top showed off her breasts and emphasized her narrow waist. He’d wanted to reach out, catch her around that waist and pull her close, then tilt up her heart-shaped face with its sexy, determined chin and kiss that wide, generous mouth until her full lips relaxed and responded under his.
Nice fantasy, but nothing more than that. Faith was far more likely to look down her straight, narrow nose at him, even though he was taller, than she was to kiss him back. She needed to loosen up if he was going to be seriously attracted to her.
Giving himself a mental shake, Cody also indulged in a rueful silent chuckle. Faith Hamilton was just about the most uptight woman he’d met since he left the computer software company where he’d worked before he earned his PhD. He knew her type. She was career-focused to the extent that all else took a back seat. She made rules and demanded that they be kept, then gave no quarter if they were not. She followed a rigid schedule and liked it. Orderly and punctual, she didn’t have time to pause for a good laugh or to help another human being in trouble.
She was everything he was not.
Ralph was rambling toward the end of his story now. He was at the sixteenth hole and was six shots above par. That was pretty good, Cody thought, so the punch line should be coming up soon. Either Ralph won the foursome he was in by achieving some hugely difficult shot, or he ended up saving some poor sod from humiliating himself, causing Ralph to lose dramatically as a result of his good deed. It had to be one or the other because Cody couldn’t see the CEO telling a story in which he ended up being less than the best.
Time to start paying attention to golf and stop thinking about Faith Hamilton. He knew women like Faith and he knew he couldn’t compete with the structure they created around themselves. He didn’t—couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—fit into their orderly lives and they weren’t willing, or to be fair, weren’t able, to change them. The type of woman who appealed to Cody was a free spirit who didn’t object to chaos around her, who was loving, passionate and deeply committed to what mattered—people, especially the people she loved.
Faith Hamilton didn’t fit that description and the eighteenth hole beckoned. He had another few weeks of having the woman on his tail, demanding he pay attention to software problems, then Sue Green would be back and he’d be off the hook. He could hang on until then.
Just.
The next computer problem occurred at nine-forty on Monday morning—Angela’s computer again, of course! Faith was beginning to think that perhaps Angela’s computer was suffering a nervous breakdown and needed to be replaced. After her run-in with Cody, she was damned if she was going to call him and ask for his help fixing the problem, though. She’d just do it herself and save the grief.
Disaster struck as she sat at Angela’s desk, muttering under her breath and fighting frustration. Angela was peering over her shoulder offering suggestions and helpful hints that weren’t helpful at all. Suddenly the secretarial bullpen became quiet as Ava Taylor walked up to Angela’s desk and slowly came to a stop. “Faith! I did not expect to see you here.”
What she actually meant was, You’re supposed to call in Cody Simpson to do this sort of thing. Why haven’t you? Faith could hear the words in every nuanced tone, beneath every innocuous word.
She straightened slowly as she abandoned the computer and its glitch. Angela would have to fend for herself. “Hi, Ava.”
“I called your office, Faith. I wanted to talk to you.” But you weren’t there. You were here doing what you are not supposed to. Nuance said so much more than a simple word could.
Faith lifted her chin. “Then let’s go to my office now and we can discuss what you came by to see me about. Angela, call Cody Simpson and ask him to come down and help you with this.”
“But he won’t come. You know that, Faith.”
Faith glanced at Ava, wondering if she was getting the picture about Cody, but Ava’s expression showed nothing but polite interest. Although her eyes…yes, her eyes burned with an expression that could only be called greed. Ava wanted to hear the company gossip. Heaven knew what she’d do with it once she had it. It was a scary thought.
“Try Doctor Simpson,” Faith said. “I’ll check back with you later to see how it’s going.” She rose before Angela could come up with another protest and led Ava back to her office.
“I thought you were going to alert Cody Simpson whenever there was a problem with one of the computers,” Ava said as soon as the office door closed behind them.
“He’s busy, Ava. It’s easier to do it myself.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Faith. That is not the kind of team spirit I know you are capable of.”
That was a low blow. Faith could feel heat rise in her cheeks. “Ava, I am thinking about the best interests of the company. Dr. Simpson is doing important work. Why bother him with stupid little problems that are way beneath his skills?”
“I am well aware of the value of the work Cody Simpson is doing, but he is the head of our computing department and as such repairing the computers is his responsibility.”
That surprised Faith, though she supposed she should have expected Ava to be rigid where Cody Simpson was concerned. “I take your point.”
Ava peered at her from under furrowed brows, as if she couldn’t quite believe Faith was giving in so easily. “So what will you do the next time one of the clerical staff has a computer problem?”
There were moments when Ava was too cute to swallow. Faith gritted her teeth and resisted the temptation to say that she wasn’t a naughty preschooler. Instead she replied as politely as she could, “I’l
l call Doctor Simpson and ask him to fix it.”
Ava nodded. She bared her teeth in a smile that could kill, but her tone was confused when she said, “Why do you keep calling him Doctor Simpson?”
“Because he told me that is how he should be addressed.” Not quite true, but close enough.
Ava shot her another under brow look. “We are all on a first name basis at NIT.”
“Of course,” Faith murmured. She was not about to admit that she was the one who had decided to be formal with Cody Simpson. Let Ava assume what she wanted to.
“I believe you and Cody Simpson need a counseling session to help you work through your differences.”
Alarm shot through Faith. The thought of sitting in a meeting room on one side of a table with Cody Simpson on the other and Mona, the Human Resources Manager, between them, telling them they needed to express their anxieties and be open about their conflicts, was truly terrifying. Or was it just too absurd to be contemplated? Faith didn’t know. All she was certain of was that she didn’t want to do it.
Ava must have been watching Faith’s face and read her dismay. “There may be another way to handle the problem. In fact, it’s the reason I wanted to talk to you this morning.”
There was a tense silence until Faith finally said, “And that reason was?”
“You haven’t replied to your invitation to the company picnic.”
She hadn’t? Could that be? She was certain she must have replied. She always went to NIT events and responded to the e-mail announcements as soon as they came into her mailbox. Ava had probably lost her reply and wasn’t willing to admit it. Since she didn’t want to get into an argument, she said, “Sorry about that, Ava,” in as positive a tone as she could muster.
“Well?”
Well what? Faith searched her mind for Ava’s meaning then suddenly realized she was talking about the invitation. “Oh, yeah. Am I coming to the picnic?”