I’d been hanging around C&H too long already! I’m sure I had makeover mania written all over my face!
Still, it was a good idea, wasn’t it? Make Barn over. Set him up with Cara. I see potential. He gets what he wants, well one thing anyway. And I get cosmic credit for spotting potential in another person. Look out greatness, here I come!
I cocked my head and said to Barn, "What is it you want most right now? A job? A hot babe?" I wiggled my eyebrows to give him the idea that a babe might be the choice.
He got the wrong idea and tried to give me a leer. But his leer wasn’t like Sean’s. His gave me a loss of appetite.
"Not me," I rushed to say. "I’m interested in someone else right now."
Which was true. I didn’t have to say that someone wasn’t necessarily interested in me and was probably way out of my league and that I was exercising extreme patience while that someone decided a few things.
"I don’t know," Barn said. "I could really use a job right now . . ."
"We all could. I can’t help you with that." I tried to sound sympathetic, but I was ready to get on with the makeover part. I shot C&H a surreptitious look and then said louder than I needed to, "I think we could help you on your way to becoming a babe magnet. All you really need is a makeover." That got their attention.
Candy stopped midsentence. I put my hands behind Barn’s head and pointed to him. "What do you think, girls? Can we help this guy attract a lady?"
You could almost see the wheels turning in Candy’s head. A number-two buzz on the sides. Perhaps a bit of color, a few streaky highlights. A new wardrobe. Maybe some smaller glasses. But she still looked a bit hesitant.
"I was thinking," I added, "about what Rog and I learned at that breakthrough seminar. ‘See the potential in others and Providence and others will see the potential in you.’
"Barn has the potential. Just look at him. He’s a smart, nice guy who just needs a little more flash to attract a female. We could play Professor Higgins and turn him into a peacock, couldn’t we?" I paused. "Or Candy could." I turned to Barn. "Candy has the talent."
Candy cocked her head, studying him. "I think you may be right. He does have potential." She grinned, pleased with herself. "I see definite possibilities. What do you think, Hank?"
"He has a good bone structure."
"His bone structure will standout even more once I lend him some great low carb diet books and he follows the advice in them. My sister swears by this diet and she’s thin, thin, thin."
Of course, Julie didn’t need to diet, but she did need to eat healthy if she was going to ward off aging. Her thoughts, not mine. I saw this as a great opportunity to purge Dad’s pantry of all that nasty sugar-free jam Julie’d been hoarding.
"Ladies," Sean stepped in, "It takes more than looks to make a peacock. He needs a strut. And a line or two." He laughed. "That’s where I come in."
So it was resolved. Barn had potential and was our pet project. Once we got him gussied up, look out, Cara, or some lucky girl.
Chapter 13
Job-free days: 53
August Unemployment Log
Bank account balance: Way below my comfort level.
Rejections: No one’s begging me for any interviews. Yippee!
Goals:
1. Make Barn into a babe-catching machine. Almost there! Well, as good as we’re probably going to get, considering the raw material we have to work with.
* * *
I had a week and a half of bliss. Except for Dad returning home on Saturday. I mentioned Sean to him as a potential employee. He scowled, obviously taking it wrong, like I was trying to get out of my family obligation by offering up a substitute, a sacrificial worker. Then he said if he had any openings, he’d be holding them open for me, for when I finally came to my senses. Which was never going to happen. I planned on being mercifully senseless regarding WAR for the rest of my life. Finally, after a lot of sniveling, whining, and pleading—see what lengths I’ll go to help another human being with potential get what he wants—Dad finally told me to talk to Julie when she got back. He’d leave the decision in her hands. A lucky turn of events for Sean, because I knew Julie, and Sean was exactly the type of man who charmed her.
Fortunately, since that first encounter, Dad had been too busy at the office to pay much attention to me. With Julie still gone, he had to work overtime covering both their responsibilities. Oh, darn!
As for me, no more interviews or calls. I should have posted that bogus résumé eons ago. Why didn’t I think of it before? With the worry of attracting the attention of a less than desirable employer removed, I’ve been free to play.
Alice was back in town for a nanosecond or two. We did lunch and sure enough, she asked in a way too casual tone, "So what did you think of Garrett?"
"He’s hot," I said and winked.
"You’re incorrigible. I hope you paid some attention."
"Oh, I did." I went on at length about the greatness seminar. My feigned enthusiasm seemed to please her. I used to be a terrible liar, but with all this NLP training I’d been doing, I was pretty good at imitating enthusiastic body language. And in truth, it’s not all acting. Some of Ryne’s stuff seemed to be working. At least all this helping and seeing potential made me feel good about myself. I wasn’t so down about things.
Alice flew into town, had lunch with me, and dashed back out again to spend a few weeks at her time-share in Ocean Shores before classes started back up at the University of Washington. I could tell she wanted to invite me along, but didn’t dare. Not while I’m supposed to be looking for work and becoming great. Dad’s adamant insistence that I "keep my butt in gear and find a damn job" probably had something to do with the invitation dying on her lips.
So I’d been hanging out with C&H, the sugar sisters as I liked to call them, and Jean and Roger and the rest of JCG. We’d been to the art museum, a matinee—a guy flick, and several parks.
Cara’s texted me a zillion times. I think I was just about ready to talk to her, or would be once we put the finishing touches on Barn.
* * *
My cell phone rang. Like an automatomic idiot, I answered it without looking to see who it was from.
"Leesa Winsome? Jerry Guard, Horizon Wireless Services."
"Yes?" Uh-oh.
"It’s come to our attention that you have not paid your most recent corporate cell phone bill of $25.36. Ignoring the three late notices that we’ve sent you."
All of which I’d either torn up or sent to my former employer. It was their corporate charge. I’d arranged with WI to pay the closing bill for my ex-corporate cell phone. Speaking of which, I’d had to call Horizon myself to cancel the account. Did WI even think of it? No.
"No oversight. Not my bill. If you’d consulted your records, Jerry," I said, in a friendly, yet firm tone. "You’d see that this is a corporate account and that the final bill should be sent to Wireless Innovations. I have, however, for your benefit, forwarded the bills to them.
"And while we’re throwing complaints around. I have a few of my own. In trying to cancel my corporate coverage, I was put on hold and transferred to every department you own for more than an hour. Finally, your associates found the person with the authority to cancel.
"Clearly, this ineptitude was a concerted plot to keep the consumer from being able to cancel service. Ever. During that call, I instructed Horizon to bill WI directly. Which is who you need to talk to for payment."
"Ms. Winsome, this amount has not been paid and your name is listed on the account. If you do not send in the money, I’ll have to turn you over to collections. Now can I have your promise to send in the money? How about mailing us a check today? Or you can pay by credit card. I can take credit-card information from you right now."
Right. I’d had just about enough of paying WI’s bills. Plus, there’s nothing worse than a bullying bluffer. Firstly, you can’t turn an individual over to collection for a corporate account. Secondly, no collection agency
would go after a measly twenty-five dollar bill. Since they usually take half, twelve fifty is not worth their time or Horizon’s. He’s wasn’t turning me over to anyone. He was hoping I wouldn’t know this stuff.
"Turn WI in for collection." I hung up.
The phone rang in my hand. "Listen, buddy. You call here and harass me again—"
"Hey, Lees, nice to talk to you, too."
"Oh, Roger. Hello. Sorry, I thought you were someone else." Again. This was becoming a habit with Rog and me.
"Leesa, you know anything about chemistry? I’ve got an assignment I can’t make heads or tails of and was hoping for help. I tried Barn, but he bailed out on me. Chemistry’s not his thing."
"You called the right girl." Yes, I did a bit of dry-labbing in college. I may not be good at running experiments in the lab, but book work? Piece of cake.
Helping others. More greatness. Getting what I wanted. I was reaching for greatness one JCG member at a time. First Candy and Hank, then Sean, then Barn, now Roger. I was on a roll.
I made arrangements to meet Roger at Starbucks. Not our usual one. One nearer my house. As much as I loathed it, I drove the beast, Dad’s old beater pickup. I parked it half a block away so Roger didn’t see me driving it. He might not care about what kind of car he saw me driving. But I did. I had my pride.
Roger was waiting for me, surrounded by books and notes and looking frustrated, when I arrived.
"Thank goodness!" he said when he saw me. "I’m pulling my hair out. What’s left of it."
I smiled. Rog was getting a little thin up top. I leaned over his shoulder and glanced at his books. "What have we got here? Oh, balancing chemical equations. Equations I can handle. Equations love me." I sat down and went straight to work while Roger bought me a cup of coffee. Very generous of him, considering how long he’d been out of work.
"A mocha?" he asked.
"That’d be great. Decaf. With whip."
By the time he got back to the table with my coffee, I’d figured out where he’d gone wrong. "You forgot about this floating hydrogen molecule here, Rog." I showed him.
Roger was a smart guy. He caught on quickly once I explained a few things to him. He reminded me of a lot of my old engineering study buddies. Driven. Sharp. Comfortable. Nonthreatening. Absolutely no chemistry between us, except for the obvious chemistry book and homework. Which is why when we’d finished his assignment, I felt comfortable saying, "Speaking of chemistry, when are you going to ask Candy out?"
He gave me that look guys use when they’re trying to play it cool and macho, like nothing has perturbed them, like he never thought of the idea himself and couldn’t possibly understand how I had.
But I watched his body language closely. I didn’t need my new NLP expertise to see he probably thought about it day and night. "Well? It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you think she’s hot."
His eyebrows shot up.
I laughed. "Yeah, it’s obvious," I replied to his unasked question. "And a certain little homemaker-type bird told me you’re looking to settle down. So?"
He laughed self-consciously. "I’m old enough to be her father."
I shrugged. "Some girls find older guys hot. They like the stability. The security. The maturity." I paused. "Frankly, a lot of the men her age are immature jerks looking for a quick hookup. Treat Candy like a real person and she’ll love you."
He grinned. "Thanks for the tip."
I grinned back. "Don’t mention it."
Just then I noticed a familiar face peering in through the window at us. Cara! Seeing me, she ducked back around the corner out of sight. Spying on me! How low could she sink?
I jumped up. "Thanks for the coffee. My job’s done here. Time to leave you to the rest of your studies. Gotta run."
I left a stunned looking Roger and tore out after Cara.
I wore my tennis shoes. Cara had on pumps, which gave me the definite advantage. I caught her with ease as she tried to reach her Lexus and make a quick getaway. I slammed her door shut with a quick hip swing before she could climb in. We stared each other down, both of us breathing hard. I really had to get to that exercise goal.
"Fancy bumping into you here," she said at last.
I gave her the glare. "Yes, very coincidental considering you’re supposed to be at work—"
"I’m taking a coffee break—"
". . . and your office is ten miles east of here. You’re spying on me."
Stare down at the Starbucks corral.
Finally, Cara sighed. I always won a stare-down with her.
"Look, I was just trying to run into you casually. Make it look purely coincidental. So we could talk. You aren’t taking my calls. I miss you. We need to clear the air."
Cara still looked a lot like she did when I first met her in junior high. Same pudginess, same soft cheeks, same little girl voice. Which I might add was a detriment in the workforce. That girlie voice could be grating. Sometimes I was absolutely stunned that anyone took her seriously. When she answered the phone, sometimes you just wanted to ask, "honey, is your mommy home?" But then, when she wanted to, Cara knew how to boss and bluff and gruff.
"Anyone ever tell you you’re a lousy spy? How long have you been stalking me?" I was remembering the day at Candy and Hank’s when I thought I saw Cara’s car speed away.
She shrugged. "Maybe a week or two or three."
I crossed my arms. Closed body language was always a good defensive move. "Did you instruct HR not to pay off my last Horizon bill so that Horizon would hassle me?"
She looked puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
Okay, innocent on one count.
"If you’re having a problem with HR, you shouldn’t be surprised." She rolled her eyes. "They’re a bunch of lame brain idiots over there."
She was right on that point. "Did you get my message about my severance?"
"Took care of it. Which you’d know if you’d returned my calls. Be patient. The check is being processed right now. But it takes a couple of weeks to go through the system."
I gave her the glare again. So she’d done one good thing. Maybe. Big deal.
She held her hands up in mock defense. "Swear."
Silence.
Finally, she said, "So?"
"So."
Cara nodded toward Starbucks. "You’re seeing old guys now?"
"Roger’s young in spirit." I don’t know why I felt the need to defend him, but how dare she attack Roger. "He’s a corporate dropout in retraining. I was helping him with his chemistry."
"Chemistry!" She snorted. "When are you going to learn a new MO for attracting men?" She leaned up against her car door. "Help a man study, show him you’re smarter than he is, and he’s out of here. Men are egos."
"Roger’s just a friend." I didn’t need to explain to her.
"Seems like you’re making an awful lot of new friends lately."
Was that jealousy rearing its ugly head? Cara jealous! So she had been at Candy and Hank’s. And maybe she’d tailed me to a JCG meeting or two. I shrugged. "Friendship makes the world go round."
"I thought that was love."
"Same thing. Agape, brotherly love."
Cara sighed. "Let’s cut to the chase. It’s been almost two months. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I miscalculated this time. I thought you wanted to leave, that’s why you turned in that report saying your position was extraneous. How was I to know that you’d just developed a noble streak?"
"I’ve always been noble!"
"Have not."
"Have, too." Pause. "You could have asked me."
She sighed. "I know. I’m sorry."
I softened. "How sorry?"
"What do you mean, how sorry?"
"Sorry enough to prove it?"
She hesitated. She always furrowed her brows and pursed her lips when she was thinking hard. I could tell she didn’t trust me. And given past history, maybe she shouldn’t have. Proving often required a dare or eating a lot cro
w. Only in this case, it just meant a small, casual nonthreatening pity date. I knew she could handle going out on this particular date. Barn might be desperate and needy, but he wasn’t psycho. But Cara had no idea about that. I let her stew in her dark imaginings for a minute.
"Oh for goodness’ sake, just forget it!" I turned to walk away. Generally this maneuver worked well with Cara.
"Wait!"
I stopped, back still toward her.
"What did you have in mind?"
I smiled to myself before turning around. Victory! I could taste it. As an added bonus, I’d like having Cara around again. "A date with one of my new friends."
Then I explained to her, being completely honest about Barn’s faults, and his strengths. Okay, I exaggerated his strengths a teeny, tiny bit and maybe I glossed over a few faults. But I had to. He had such great potential!
I finished with, "We’ve fixed him up and he’s very tender and self-conscious."
I was careful to avoid saying he had a great personality, because everyone knows that’s a kiss of death description. I played up to her maternal nature instead. "I know you’d be gentle with him. You can be very gentle. And it’s just a few hours of your life."
"Fine," she said.
"I can give him your number?"
Big exhale of breath. "Sure."
Then we gave each other a big hug, so big we got a few stares.
"Is that the beast I saw parked down the road?" she asked.
I nodded.
"You want a lift to it?"
I wanted a lift in the opposite direction, but what the heck.
* * *
I ignored three calls on the drive back to Dad’s. I checked my messages as I sat in the driveway.
Message one—Joe, Hawk Engineering. "Ms. Winsome, all of us were bowled over by your skills and obvious job qualifications at your last interview. We’d like to move ahead with the offer process and schedule a second interview—"
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