Damage Control

by M. S. Parker

  But we didn’t hide things from each other. She knew that, despite my habit of moving from one thing to another, the thought of moving across the country was a daunting one.

  She watched me for a few more moments, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Just make sure you’re doing it for the right reason, Astra. You’re hurting over Jamie, and like I said, I understand that. But you have to accept that it’s not your fault. Learn to deal with that guilt, and with the hurt. You can’t outrun it.”

  She smiled at me and then took the edge of the over-large sweater I’d been using as a blanket and tugged on it. It’d been my grandmother’s, and she was closer to Piety’s height than mine, which meant it was huge on me. It had been my comfort object since she’d died six years ago.

  Piety tugged again. “Come on. I’m tired.”

  I glared at her. “You’re using my sweater as a blanket.”

  “That’s what friends do.”

  “Brat,” I muttered even as I snuggled in a little closer so it could cover both of us. Sighing, I closed my eyes but couldn’t sleep. Her words kept echoing in my head.

  I needed to do this for the right reasons. I knew I was trying to outrun the pain, distract myself from the guilt, but who knew if those were the right reasons? I didn’t. I had no idea what the right reasons were.

  Camry was moving for college. Kaleb was moving to be closer to his sister, and so he could finally follow the dream he’d put on hold to rescue his sister. Piety was going because it was what her husband needed. Who was to say that my reasons were any less right than theirs? We were all trying to make fresh starts.

  But even as I tried to argue my way around it, I couldn’t help thinking that maybe I wasn’t looking for a fresh start, but rather a place to hide.

  Thirteen

  Dash

  “Things really took off this past week, haven’t they, Mr. Lahti?”

  Glancing over at the administrator I hired three weeks ago, I nodded. Frederick Leiu had a face that made him seem far younger than he was and a warm, humorous attitude that had made him stand out from every other person I interviewed for the position. He also had an outstanding resumé.

  I had no doubt the facility I hired him away from was pissed that I’d gotten my hands on him. I intended to do everything in my power to keep him, which was why his contract said that we were entitled to counter any offer he received. He wouldn’t be obligated to accept our offer, of course, but I liked having the option.

  I’d given him a lot of incentive to change jobs, and he was definitely earning every penny. The Monday following our dinner at Didi’s, Sondra had met with him to discuss some things he needed to do, and in just a week, he’d managed to fill almost every position, and gotten many of them to agree to starting the week of Thanksgiving.

  “It will be moving at top speed from here on out,” I said, pulling my phone out to check the schedule. “How many people will be here for orientation today?”

  “Roughly half.” He blew out a breath, then absently stroked the neat goatee that framed his mouth. “With the rest, it’s their current jobs, as I’m sure you understand. Nobody wants to just walk out and leave their employers in a lurch, or the people they care for. It’s the nature of the business. Some didn’t feel comfortable counting the week of Thanksgiving as part of their two-week notice.”

  I nodded. I understood, but it was another hold-up. “What’s the outlook?”

  “With orientation this week, about forty percent can start next week. The rest won’t be in until two weeks from today. Some of that group are willing to come in for a few hours in the evenings next week if they’re compensated for their time. They might even be willing to do this week if the price is right.”

  Fred gave me a direct look. I liked that about him. He didn’t dance around things. Not even the issue of money.

  I knew the people I’d hired for the clinic weren’t just doing this to fill some void inside them. They wanted to help people, but they also needed to pay bills, feed families. Fred had been very blunt when he explained that he’d not only advocate for the clients we took on, but for the caretakers as well. The quickest way to undermine the work, he explained, was to undervalue the people hired to care for the clients.

  That all-encompassing way of thinking hadn’t just made me hire him. It’d made me trust his intentions.

  I nodded. “If they’re willing to come in next week, they’ll be compensated. Perhaps three hours, three nights a week. I’ll offer a bonus, and meals will be provided. Make sure the new hires who come in this week are giving a signing bonus if they’re on time and don’t miss any of the orientation.”

  “Excellent.” The broad smile communicated his satisfaction, and we both went back to watching the state of organized chaos taking place below us in the atrium. As they came in, people were being sorted into their various departments – direct client care, support staff, counseling, human resources…

  “Ah, there she is.”

  “Who?” I asked absently as I tried to picture how this would look when everything was running.

  The atrium would be ideal for family visits or for when those with high enough privileges just wanted to sit down and enjoy the sun or read a book somewhere with a bigger air of freedom than the more locked-down sitting room. I hadn’t quite understood the privilege system that had been outlined when I first set out to make this into a reality, but the team of therapists, psychologists, behaviorists, and a whole lot of other -ists had enough experience that I trusted their judgment.

  Incoming clients, especially those in immediate danger, needed a lot of structure – limited time with family, limited phone calls, that sort of thing. Once they were no longer in danger of hurting themselves or others or had been clean for a certain amount of time, they could start earning privileges.

  “The HR woman who’s responsible for sending reports to Senator Thatcher.” He gestured down into the people flowing through the atrium. “Imogene Traore.”

  Before I could ask him to point her out specifically, someone caught my eye. She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Then she shifted, and the woman at her side came into view.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  I muttered something to that same effect.

  “What’s wrong?” Fred asked.

  “What…no, nothing. Excuse me.” I nodded at him, my mind racing. What was she doing here? I’d gone over the name of every employee hired, and while I didn’t have faces to go with names yet, I sure as hell would’ve remembered the name Astra since the little mermaid had been on my mind more than I cared to admit.

  I jogged down the steps, cutting through the flow of people, my eyes on the taller, dark-haired woman I first saw because she was easier to spot in the crowd. I reached them just as they found the human resources section.

  The man at the desk repeated the same questions he’d asked everyone else in line. “And what’s your name, ma’am?”

  “Piety Hastings.”

  That was why she looked familiar. And as I put a name with a face, I remembered her resumé. A resumé that had contained her maiden name. Congressman Van Allen’s daughter had gotten married not too long ago. Married name: Hastings.

  But her name and why she was here wasn’t as important as that same information about the brunette next to her.

  And I’d been right. Those curls were anything but a boring shade of brown.

  “Astra Traore,” she said with a sigh. She shook her head, curls bouncing. “Do I need to spell it?”

  Traore? I’d just heard that name, hadn’t I? But where – shit.

  “Right,” she said suddenly, “It’d probably be under my legal name. Imogene Traore.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never liked my first name.”

  Imogene Traore.

  Shit.

  Not good. She was the new HR manager responsible for sending the senator progress reports, which meant this flighty mermaid held the future of my facility in her hands. How in the hell had this h
appened? I stepped to her side and caught Astra’s arm, just above the elbow.

  She turned, mouth already open like she was going to say something witty. Her jaw snapped shut the moment she recognized me. Before she could say a word, I spoke.

  “Excuse us, please, I need to speak with Ms. Traore.”

  I took a step, but she didn’t walk with me until I gave a none-too-gentle tug.

  “Wow, rude much?” she demanded from behind, jerking against my grip. “Who in the hell is in charge here? I need to have a word with him.”

  I pulled her into the nearest room, which happened to be a small conference area. Shutting the door, I let go of her arm and turned to face her. “I’m in charge, and you can have a few words with me after you answer a few of my questions. Like what in the hell you’re doing here.”

  Her mouth opened. Then closed. Finally, she planted her hands on her hips, giving me a lofty look. “I’m here to work. Shouldn’t you know that since you hired me?”

  “No.” Shaking my head, I crossed my arms over my chest. “No, I did not.”

  She mirrored my stance, highlighting her ample chest, and I tried to ignore it. “Well, somebody received my resumé and offered me a job in human resources.”

  “A job that includes reporting to Senator Thatcher.” I glowered down at her.

  Astra’s mouth tightened. “My best friend’s father is a congressman. My parents and their families have moved in all the same social circles as some of Washington’s biggest politicians. I know my way around them.”

  That information didn’t exactly endear her to me.

  “I’m here to work.” She planted her hands on her hips.

  “You?” I stared her down. “Just how are you ready to work? Are you going to dress up like a mermaid when you do your interviews and write your reports?”

  The second I said it, I wish I hadn’t.

  But she just laughed, those gorgeous gray eyes going from iron to sparkling. “Unless it’s a costume party, why would I dress up like a mermaid?”

  A hot flush crept up my neck. She was right, and I was an idiot.

  “I’m sorry,” I said flatly. “That was uncalled for. But this is a serious job. Are you aware of that? A serious job. With real life implications and real life consequences.”

  What she said about her family finally clicked. She hadn’t just been heading that fundraiser. She was from one of the old money families who were part of that crowd. It was no wonder she’d seemed so comfortable around all of them.

  “Are you even qualified to do this?” I asked.

  “Are you?” She arched an eyebrow at me, tilting her head. “Because I would think that whoever hired me had read my resumé and done the research before I was offered a job.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “That doesn’t answer my question. What kind of experience do you have? You know, you need to know more than how to plan a party and raise money to do this sort of thing.”

  She frowned at me. “Somebody should teach you some manners.” She sniffed and turned on her heel. “If you want to know what kind of experience I have, go find my resumé and job application. You’re the boss. You should have access to it. Until then, I have a job to do.”

  With that, she turned around and left the conference room.

  She didn’t storm out though. Of course not. She moved with that insane grace, like she was a poem in motion–

  “Shit,” I muttered, shaking my head.

  I didn’t like how I sounded, how I was thinking. I never had thoughts like this.

  Well, no. That wasn’t entirely true.

  I had once.

  Back when I was falling for a woman.

  But that wasn’t happening now.

  The door shut with a decisive click, and it jolted me out of my half-disgusted, half-terrified state.

  I couldn’t be falling for Astra.

  I’d met her once. Okay, today made twice.

  But I couldn’t be falling for her.

  It would be a complete, total nightmare.

  It would be inconvenient.

  Even if I hadn’t been able to forget the kiss we shared. On second thought, it would be inconvenient for exactly that reason.

  “Stop it,” I muttered. Scrubbing my hands across my eyes, I started for the door.

  I needed to stop thinking about her, find ways to avoid her. Or maybe not. She’d caught my attention. Once I figured out why, I’d lose interest. Or I’d learn that she wasn’t as interesting as I first thought.

  That was what I needed to remember.

  But as I left the conference room, my attention wasn’t on how I’d make myself lose interest in Astra. It was more on how her ass looked in that skirt. How she’d smiled at total strangers.

  And how she hadn’t smiled at me.

  Fourteen

  Astra

  I stalked back to where I’d last seen Piety. She was still there, talking to a short, pleasantly plump woman who looked to be in her mid to late forties. Before I’d been blindsided, the head of the HR department had introduced herself to Piety and me as Pattie Arlotti. I put a smile on my face and hoped that Pattie wouldn’t ask me what that had been about. I just wanted to get into my job.

  This sort of thing wasn’t exactly new to me. I had a minor in social and public policy from NYU. Or I would have if I’d ever graduated.

  Of course, I had enough credits for minors in about three other fields too. Over the past five and a half years, in addition to social and public policy, I’d also pursued social and cultural analysis, global liberal studies, and social work. It’d been the last one that had brought me to the shelter back home...back in Philadelphia. Not finishing that degree wasn’t really a surprise. I never made it that far.

  Nothing interested me enough to keep going.

  Still, I knew what I was doing here, and even had the experience for it, thanks to the numerous jobs I’d held over the years. I’d done more than my share of interviews, and when it came to conflicts among co-workers, I’d stepped in to help before things could escalate. The shelter hadn’t had the budget for a full-fledged HR department, so Margo had done it all, delegating a lot of it to me. I also had to deal with people in all sorts of ways when it came to the fundraisers Piety and I did.

  I could do this job, even if I was a little thrown off by seeing Dash here.

  Piety could do it too, which was another reason I wanted to stay. She would be more involved with the clients, helping them as they started to re-integrate into the real world, lining up possible jobs and connecting them with living quarters when and if needed, as well as making sure they kept up with the advised counseling. She was the one who suggested it to me when I told her about what happened to Jamie and that I wanted to get out of the city for a while.

  Getting the job had been a surprise, even if I’d known I could do it. It’d seemed like a sign. The universe appeared to know that I needed something different and that I’d needed Piety too.

  But I sure as hell hadn’t expected to find him here.

  Dash.

  Dashiell Lahti. I’d looked him up after the party, telling myself I was just curious. The moment I’d seen the pictures that came up in the search, I realized who he was. His parents were famous, dad a Hollywood establishment, an actor with more acting cred to his name than three-quarters of SAG, and a supermodel mother. No wonder he looked like the living, breathing embodiment of perfection.

  But why was he here? And why was he saying he was the boss?

  He’d solicited a donation from Piety’s dad. What did that matter? How many celebrities had a pet charity they fawned over? Too many. That didn’t mean they were actually involved in it. And it seemed like Dash was more than involved. He was way more than involved. He said he was my boss. I still couldn’t quite believe that.

  How could that rich Hollywood man be the head of a giant rehab facility like this?

  Immediately upon thinking it, I realized it made me sound like a hypocrite, but I wasn’t some H
ollywood elite who went gallivanting around the country, eliciting funds from people I didn’t know to save pet rocks or whatever the hell was the latest fashion. I’d worked my ass off in school, gotten whatever scholarships I could. The only reason I’d taken any money from my parents at all had been so I could join Piety in volunteering at homeless shelters and other charities while the rest of our classmates were out partying and spending obscene amounts of their parents’ money.

  I’d never asked to be treated differently because of who my family was, and I’d earned every single credit I received. And it was a smack in the face to have him insinuating that I wasn’t fit for the job.

  “Jerk.”

  I meant to keep it under my breath or inside my head, but I must not have done a good job because Piety heard me and looked up. “Hey, you’re back.”

  “Yes.” Pinning a professional smile in place, I asked, “Did I miss anything?”

  “No.” She shook her head and brushed a thick lock of dark hair back from her face. “We were just talking shop. I need to go find who I report to. Pattie, you have a good day. You’re going to love working with Astra.”

  “Hello,” I said, thankful to have something else to think about besides Dash. I focused on Pattie as Piety disappeared. “I know my resumé says my name is Imogene, but I go by Astra. It’s part of my middle name, actually–”

  “Everything you need is in here.” She gave me a polite smile as she passed a sealed manila envelope to me. “You’ve got a name tag, a schedule, the basic employee handbook, and the timeline of what we’ll be adhering to in order to open the clinic on the designated date. Anything you need to put in your reports should be in this envelope.”

  She glanced over my shoulder, and I echoed her gesture, seeing a couple of others moving up behind me.