Garbage blew in front of her as Saemira pulled the goat’s rope. “What about Billy?” She petted her furry, new friend. “Or Gruff?”
“Maybe you should let Bardhana name him,” Baba said. “It’ll be her goat.”
She tugged her new friend away from a crushed soda can. “She’ll like the name Billy.”
“Don’t press her, princess. Her baby’s sick, and she’s worried. Be a big girl.”
“I won’t press.”
Baba had gone to the Roma village for months to help the burned boy get better. She’d stayed home with Mama, not wanting to visit there ever again. But Mama had needed rest today so Baba had made her come with him.
The village was still stinky and broken, but Bardhana’s place was swept, at least. She was one of Baba’s students and needed milk for her baby. Hers had dried up.
Baba placed baby Frenk in Saemira’s arms so he could show Bardhana how to milk Billy. Saemira put the bottle to the baby’s mouth, but Frenk wouldn’t move his lips. Milk streamed down his chin.
“He won’t eat.” She moved the nipple against his lips.
Baba took the baby and gave Bardhana a look that said something bad was happening and little girls wouldn’t understand. But she would if they’d speak with words, not faces.
“Come outside, Saemira.” He led her out the door. “Eja,” he called to someone in the courtyard.
Saemira shivered when the burned boy skipped up the stairs to join them. His face and arm didn’t have bloody white patches anymore, but the skin on one side of his face still puckered. A ghastly hole where his ear should be made her gag. His eyeballs moved around in the whites of his eyes, not staying still.
“This is Saemira.” Baba put a hand on her shoulder. “She helped tend your wounds. Do you remember?”
He nodded.
She wished she didn’t remember that day. Thinking about the mean scary man she had stolen from made her want to hide. Were the gods still angry with her?
“Bardhana’s baby needs my attention. Can you stay with my daughter until I’m done? Be her friend?”
Saemira clung to Baba’s coat. “I want to stay with you.” If the gods noticed her with the bad boy, they might explode this whole building.
“Play with your new friend, bijë.” He patted her head and left.
She pressed against the wall as the boy moved closer. “Go away.”
He stopped, then walked to where the railing was missing and dangled a foot over the ledge. On purpose!
“Don’t!” If he fell, he’d be sorry.
He grinned, making her shiver.
“You’re a stupid idiot,” she said in English, not wanting him to tell Baba on her.
His creepy eyes widened. “You speak Een-glees?” He said English funny.
“Yes. Baba is American.” Which made her special, according to Mama. “Do you know English?”
He frowned. “Little.” He switched to Albanian. “Uncle knows it. He lived in Canada as a boy.” He switched to English again. “Yerra soopid eedeeyah.”
“No.” She poked him. “You’re a stupid idiot.”
He touched his chest. “Bengalo es soopid eedee-it?”
Bengalo must be his name. “Yes.”
He touched her shoulder. “Saemira?”
“Saemira is good and pretty.”
His eyeballs crossed. “Saemira esgud en pritt-ee.”
It wasn’t quite right, but she nodded.
He patted his neck. “Bengalo es soopid eedee-it.”
“Bengalo is also dirty and ugly.”
He turned, and she shuddered at his ear hole. He begged for more English words. She taught him all the bad ones she knew. The good ones she kept.
When Baba came out, Bengalo ran to him and pointed. “Saemira essa gud, prit-tee preen-sess.”
Baba laughed. “Very good English, son.”
The boy tapped his chest. “Bengalo essa soopid, ee-diot, ugly, steenk-shit.”
Baba’s eyes narrowed, and Saemira ducked her head. Dumb boy.
Baba gave him coins, then took her hand and left. Not until the village was far behind did he speak.
“Saemira, I’m disappointed. You squandered an opportunity to make a friend today.”
“What does squander mean?”
He lifted her in his arms so she could see the world up high. “It means to waste because you do something foolish, like teaching poor boys naughty English words.”
“I didn’t mean to squander.”
“He definitely had a knack for English.”
“So, I didn’t squander?”
“You did. Bengalo is a good boy, not a stupid idiot, and definitely not a stink-shit.”
She frowned. “He did stink.”
Baba kissed her cheek. “His people don’t have much. But even the stinkiest, dirtiest person has a piece of divinity in them.”
“A piece of Sky God?” That’s what Mama called his God.
“Yes.”
“Will Sky God curse me for squandering?” She didn’t want to worry about Him as well as Mama’s gods.
“No, bijë. He’s not petty. God lives to forgive, but He also has high expectations and wants us to love our brothers and sisters. You don’t want to disappoint Him, do you?”
No. But Bengalo wasn’t her brother.
Gemma
Mama’s amulet gave me courage to pull back my shoulders and walk off the elevator toward the intimidating CEO’s office.
“Breathe, Gemma,” Mr. Carter said beside me. “You’re not in any danger of losing your job.” He stopped outside a door. “You’re in a unique position.”
The only unique thing I felt was the urge to barf up the Cheetos I’d eaten earlier.
“Mr. McConnell screwed up and needs to apologize. My advice? Make him grovel.”
Easy for him to say. Mr. Carter had a family. A cute wife. Twin boys. Probably grandparents and aunts and uncles. He was white, not brown like me. He was in no danger of becoming homeless.
“I don’t care about an apology,” I said. “I just want to get back to work.”
“You can’t squander this opportunity.”
My mouth fell open when he threw Baba’s words at me.
“You can get a much larger raise from him than I’m authorized to give you. No matter what, your job’s secure. So make him grovel.”
My hands fisted as I recalled the humiliating way I’d been escorted out of the building. “He fired me for giggling. Who does that?”
He laughed. “That’s my girl. Hold onto that fire.”
The snooty Brit stuck his nose in the air as we entered the outer office. “May I help you?”
“We’re here to see the Big Cheese,” my boss said.
Brit-guy scowled. “You mean Mr. McConnell?”
Mr. Carter’s playful mood made me careless. “We mean Mr. Giggling-Intolerant.”
My boss snickered, but someone else—not Brit-guy—growled.
I whipped my head up to find the CEO glaring at me from his open door. Damnation and jello.
“I’ve been waiting, Ms. Stone.” He gestured for me to enter his inner sanctum.
“Give him hell,” Mr. Carter said as I walked past him.
The CEO shut the door and pointed to a white chair on the other side of a massive desk the size of an airport runway. “Take a seat.”
I looked around the gorgeous office space which had everything from gym equipment to a cozy fireplace with plush couches surrounding it. His chair dwarfed mine, probably on purpose. A blizzard blurred the view out of floor-to-ceiling windows. I’d need to leave early to get home on time.
The man raised an eyebrow.
I gulped. Beautiful bananas. How had I not realized how gorgeous he was? The pinstripe suit was boring but fit him to perfection. His dark brown hair was styled, not a hair out of place. A hint of facial hair emphasized a strong jaw and luscious lips. And steel-gray eyes were set off by thick lashes.
“Do you dress this way every day,
Ms. Stone, or just on special occasions?”
I gripped my fringed satchel. “I could ask the same of you? Do you always wear a suit?”
“I do. You might want to consider dressing more professionally in the future as well. It would have improved my first impression of you and saved us this meeting.” He steepled his fingertips. “HR messed up. Please accept my formal apology on their behalf. Mistakes happen.”
Whoa. Mr. Davidson had read Mr. McConnell’s exact words. This man had meant to fire me. Yet he now cast blame on HR and pretended to be magnanimous?
“You’re right.” I flipped a few braids over my shoulder. “I made a huge mistake working for a company run by a liar.” I stood, slipping my satchel over my shoulder.
“You’re calling me a liar?”
He should be glad I hadn’t called him worse. “If the shoe fits.” I held my head high but worried he would tell me to leave. To go without collecting two weeks’ severance pay. Mr. Carter had promised I wouldn’t lose my job, but did I dare beat this figurative lion with a stick to test that assumption?
His jaw twitched. “Fine. I did fire you, but Joe made me see my error. Seems you’re a valuable asset to his team, so I’m asking you to stay.”
“I seem to be valuable?” Could this man be any more condescending? “No, thanks. I won’t stay where I’m not appreciated.” I headed to the door, hoping he’d call my bluff.
He blocked my escape, making me yelp. I hadn’t heard him get up from his desk. Was he a freaking vampire?
He took hold of my arm. “Mr. Carter needs you to stay.”
I stared at his hand, which made me buzz like an electrical current. “Mr. Carter didn’t fire me.”
He released me and stepped back, still blocking the door. “Will you stay for a six percent raise?”
Whoa, Nelly. Was he joking? I’d hoped for five percent at most. Mr. Carter was right. I could get more out of this guy if I played him right.
“Ten percent.”
He hissed. “Don’t be greedy. Six point five.”
“Please move out of my way.”
“You can’t leave.”
I put hands on my hips. “Will you tie me to a chair to keep me here?”
He rolled his eyes. “Mr. Carter threatened to quit if you go.”
Ah. That’s why my boss had been confident Mr. McConnell wouldn’t fire me. Good for him. He acted meek and mild, but the guy had backbone.
“Guess you’ll lose two valuable employees today.” I tried to nudge him out of the way, hoping I wasn’t taking my bluff too far. The rich jerk pushed every button I possessed.
He took my hand, and the tingly sensation swept up my arm again. “No other company would understand Joe’s worth. They’d make him claw his way up the corporate ladder for years, and he’d go along with it, stepping down to help a more aggressive chump climb past him.”
I wriggled out of his grip. “And that’s my problem because?”
“Because he has a wife and kids. And he just moved into a sweet house in the Avenues that I encouraged him to buy. He can’t afford to downgrade careers.”
“I’m sure Mr. Carter is bluffing.” Like me.
“Any other man, I’d agree. But Joe is honest to a fault. When he says he’ll quit if you go, he will. Integrity is more important to him than a paycheck.”
“I like Mr. Carter.” He gave me hope that not all men were evil.
“As do I. So will you take a seven percent raise and keep working for him?”
“No.” I folded my arms in case he got any more ideas about touching me.
“Why not?” He threw his hands in the air.
“Because you’re grumpy. I don’t want to work for someone who tries to control who I am, even down to whether or not I laugh on a phone call.”
“I thought you were making a personal call.”
“Whatever. I don’t want to work for someone who’s so proud they can’t apologize.”
“I apologized.”
“Oh, please. You read from a script. You’re not sorry you fired me. You’re only sorry you had to fess up to your mistake. You don’t seem like a man who cares to admit he makes them.”
“Because I don’t!”
I laughed, and—shocker—so did he. And wow. The man became ten times sexier. I held onto Mama’s amulet.
He sighed. “So you want a sincere apology?”
“That’d be a good start.”
He gestured to the chair. “Sit, please.”
I did so, and he returned to his desk.
“Let me dig deep to find my humility.”
Had he just made a joke? Of course not. This was boring CEO-man. He wouldn’t know a joke if it bit him in his tight butt.
“Don’t pull a muscle,” I said.
He didn’t crack a smile.
“Are you—”
He waved, as if shooing a fly. “Be quiet.”
“See? You’re a total grump.”
Most people found me amusing, but Mr. McConnell seemed made of stone, which worried me because he held my fate in his strong, manicured hands.
He let out a long sigh. “I’ve had a terrible morning. One piece of bad news after another. When you giggled, I assumed you were playing around. It didn’t help when I saw your feet on the desk. And your unprofessional attire.”
What?
“I made false assumptions. I should’ve gone to Joe, but I believed I was doing him a favor by not bringing him into the conflict. He has a stroke when he has to make someone else suffer. But I was wrong not to do a more thorough check. If I had, I would’ve seen that even if you had been talking to a boyfriend, you were still doubling every other sales associates’ stats and could get away with it.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He shook his head. “Whatever. I’m trying to say sorry. I made not one mistake but several and have no excuse for my behavior.”
Huh. I hadn’t thought he’d be able to step down from his high horse enough to apologize. But that hadn’t been half bad. Baba would’ve said I was seeing the divine in him. A teensy tiny spark.
So I stood and started clapping, giving credit where credit was due. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He scowled, and I laughed. Poor guy didn’t possess an ounce of humor, which made his reactions funnier.
“Now,” I said, “put your money where your mouth is. Make me an offer I can’t refuse.”
Aaron, my cubicle neighbor, waited for me when I returned from my heart-stopping ordeal with the CEO.
“Gemma-girl. I thought they fired your butt. Tommy saw you and Joe heading into the big man’s office and said it looked serious. So spill. What happened?”
“I was fired and rehired.” No putting off Aaron.
“No way! The CEO’s wack, man.”
“Preaching to the choir, dude.” I pushed past him, noticing my box of belongings beneath the desk. One could never complain about HR’s efficiency.
“Was it terrible?”
I moved my satchel into a drawer. “What do you think? I had to grovel to get my job back.” It still irritated me that I’d been fired in the first place.
“McConnell’s an ogre. Since things went down with his wife, everyone’s terrified of him.”
I set the pilfered magazines back on my desk. “What happened?”
“You don’t know?” He stared at me as if I’d turned into a cotton-candy-eating lizard or something.
I swiveled to face him. “I’ve only been in sales for two months.” I’d cleaned toilets before that. “Enlighten me.” And let me get back to work. I was behind schedule.
Aaron rolled his chair into my cubicle and leaned closer. “The CEO’s got skeletons in his closet.”
In my experience, everyone had a few. “So what?”
He reared back as if I’d blown cotton-candy bubbles through my lizard nostrils. “You really have no idea, do you? The guy roughed up his wife bad enough she lost her baby.”
Who
a.
“She divorced the bastard but dropped all charges in exchange for a huge settlement. Jerk should’ve gone to prison, but millionaires always escape justice.”
“You’re not messing with me?” Those were some serious allegations, and Aaron was a gossip.
“Google him. It was in the paper.”
I did just that, pushing Aaron out of the way. A minor headline from two years ago popped up. Another hit from yesterday. I covered my mouth as I skimmed the first article.
Hell’s bells. Aaron hadn’t lied. I studied a picture of the CEO next to a gorgeous blonde with enormous gjinjtë revealed by a low-cut gown. Another photo showed the same woman with an arm in a cast and bruises covering her body. A closeup showed a hand-shaped bruise on her face.
I shuddered, thinking how close I’d been to that hand just a few minutes ago.
His wife had received millions in the divorce, but Aaron was right. The CEO had deserved prison. His poor wife had probably been too intimidated to press charges.
I clicked on the newest article, which stated that his ex was suing to obtain shares in EcoCore. Good for her. She’d finally found her backbone. Probably had to wait for it to heal after her monster husband beat her. He’d apparently stolen her intellectual property—SmartGlass.
“Bastard,” I said, since Aaron wasn’t offended by real swear words.
“Right? Guy’s a double douchebag.”
Ooo. I’d have to remember that one. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Anytime.” He rolled away. “I’ve got your back. When I thought they’d fired you, I was ready to grab a picket to protest.”
Yeah, right. Only if donuts had been involved.
I leaned back in my cushy chair and propped my wedges on the desk, vowing to stay clear of the CEO. I already had one too many monsters in my life. No way would I add another into the mix.
5
Lincoln
Clouds blocked my view of the mountains, making me scowl. Soggy springs never helped my mental state.
“Another beautiful rainy day,” Joe said, entering my office.
Of Stone and Sky Page 3