She's Got Dibs

by AJ Nuest

  “That is gorgeous.” Tiffany turned her hand back and forth, studying the ring. “What made you decide to get it?”

  “Well…I sold Michael’s ring.”

  “What?” Tiffany dropped her hand.

  “I said I sold—”

  “I heard you the first time.” She popped up and rushed around the side of her desk. “I just don’t believe it.” She flung her arms around Tessa’s shoulders and squeezed tight. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. Thank you, Dibs!”

  Tessa laughed. “You know what? I’m proud of me, too.”

  Later that afternoon the doorbell rang, and Tessa leaned back from her desk to find a bicycle messenger waiting in reception. She signed for the package addressed to her and quickly tore into the brown paper. Inside was a framed eight-by-ten color photograph of her and Dibs entering the gallery.

  She grinned, then gasped and crumpled the paper and frame to her chest. Even though she’d made Dibs upset, broken off their kiss that Friday he left her office, he’d still arranged to have the photo delivered.

  She kept the picture centered on her desk, glancing at it periodically throughout the day, an effervescent euphoria thrilling through her veins every time she relived their kisses at the airport.

  The hours ticked by, most often in slow motion, and by Thursday morning an antsy irritation had leached into every cell in her body. No matter what she did, the closer Sunday loomed, the more cloying the waiting became. Not even work was a significant distraction anymore.

  Sitting at her desk, staring at the same invoice she’d been working on for over an hour, she expelled a breath of relief when the phone rang. Maybe something would finally break up the monotony. “TNT Entertainment, this is Tessa.”

  “So, here’s an idea.” A tinny version of Dibs’s voice echoed through the line.

  She hesitated. Her ears must’ve heard wrong. “No way.” She slowly stood.

  “Let’s go on vacation.”

  Her heart flipped erratically in her chest. “You’re…you’re calling me from Botswana?”

  “When did you last take some time off, Rex?”

  She slapped a palm to her chest. “Where did you even find a phone? And don’t tell me your cell works from there, I won’t buy it.”

  “We could go to Vail for a few days after I get back, or even longer if you can swing it.”

  “You’re calling from the jungle to ask me on vacation?” She switched her trembling hand to her forehead.

  His laugh reverberated through the line. “Yes, so answer the question.”

  “You’re completely insane, but it sounds wonderful.” She smiled, lifting their photo from her desk. “I miss you.”

  “Three more days, Rex.” A wistful longing softened his voice, so far away.

  “Three more days,” she repeated. “Are you being careful out there?”

  “Depends. Are you eating?”

  They shared a laugh.

  “God, I can’t wait to see you,” he said.

  She cleared her throat. “I can’t wait to do a little bit more than just see you.”

  His chuckle set her heart racing all over again. “I’m starting to think you like to torture me, Rex.”

  “I just can’t stop thinking about you.” She reclaimed her chair and ran a fingertip down his cheek in the photo. “All this distance is making me crazy.”

  “I know. Me, too.”

  “What time do you get in?”

  “We should land sometime around two.”

  “Okay, I’ll be the lonely-looking girl waiting by the black Jag.”

  “I’ll be the happy-looking guy running toward you.”

  She laughed.

  “I gotta go, Rex. I’ll see you Sunday. And pack your bags.”

  “Okay. See you then.”

  She slowly lowered the receiver into the cradle, basking in the radiant light thrumming through her heart. She spun away from her desk and marched briskly into Tiffany’s office. “I can’t remember.” She came forward for a seat. “Does it always feel this way when you’re infatuated with someone?”

  Tiffany swiveled away from her computer, a clever smirk in place. “You got it bad, don’t you?”

  “My head’s spinning. He just called.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Dibs called you from Botswana?”

  She laughed. “I know. He wants us to spend a few days in Vail after he gets back.”

  “You stink. But you should go, anyway. And to answer your question, yes, it always feels that way, at least in the beginning.”

  “Do you still get this giddy about Kevin?”

  “Depends.” Tiffany flicked a wicked eyebrow. “On the activities of the night before.”

  “God, the waiting is killing me.” Tessa shook her fists in the air. “Sunday just can’t get here fast enough.”

  “Well…then maybe we should take a break this afternoon. We still need to tour the BFG facility.” Tiffany shrugged. “Why don’t we get in that beautiful black Jag and go for a drive?”

  “You know, that sounds like a great idea. Let me make some calls and see if I can reschedule a few things.” Tessa stood and started for the doorway, but then paused in the threshold. “You sure about me taking a few days next week?”

  “When is the last time you went on vacation, Tessa?”

  “Four years ago, right before we opened the business.”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Live dangerously. Take a week.”

  ****

  “What do you think this one does?” Tiffany depressed a green square on the console.

  A small check engine light flashed repeatedly on the dash.

  “Dammit, leave it alone.” Tessa jabbed the button. “I’m nervous enough driving this hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle. If we reprogram the car, Dibs could blow a gasket. Literally.”

  Tiffany sputtered, seemingly unconvinced. “What do you think this one is for?” She pressed another button.

  An automatic panel slid down and a three-dimensional map winked to life. “Good afternoon, Mr. Brenner,” a mechanical female voice chimed. “Destination, please.”

  They exchanged a wide-eyed glance.

  “Bond…James Bond.” Tiffany feigned an English accent. Their chuckles mingled as she pointed through the windshield at the Brenner Financial Group marquee. “Here’s the entrance. Pull in here and park.” She gathered their briefcases from the back seat. “What’s this woman’s name again?”

  “Cynthia Kramer.”

  They exited the car and climbed side by side up the wide cement staircase fronting the building.

  “This place is huge.” Tiffany tipped her head back, scanning the towering brick façade as they crossed the first landing.

  “The grounds can comfortably accommodate up to five hundred people.” Tessa followed her gaze around the pristinely manicured lawn. “When the staff comes from New York, they sleep here and everything.”

  “Sort of like a big cult.” Tiffany winked, topped the second landing, and pulled open one of the eight glass doors.

  “Maybe we should curb the sarcasm until after the tour.” Tessa entered the building and stopped dead in her tracks. Tiffany bumped her shoulder, stumbling to a stop at her elbow.

  Two stories overhead soared a triple-vaulted ceiling, boasting frescos of the sky in muted shades of blue, pink, and white. In the center of each dome hung a crystal teardrop chandelier, vast and glittering in the mellow afternoon light. Thick marble columns guarded the room like forbidding sentinels, their ornate pedestal design intensifying the air of extravagance.

  Tessa and Tiffany slowly faced each other, Tessa’s internal shock exactly mirrored by Tiffany’s mask of amazement.

  They crossed the room to a curving front desk stationed in the center of a wide double staircase, a set of elaborate stairs leading off in each direction.

  Tessa smiled at the security guard behind the marble counter, offered their names and the scheduled appointment with Ms. Kramer. The man nodded and lifted hi
s phone.

  A current of air wafted past her cheeks when Tiffany wandered over to the far seating area, her footsteps muffled by the expansive green and gold carpet. She trailed a hand over the Louis XVI furniture, past the monolithic marble fireplace, finally dropped to one of the gold chairs and bounced. “Nice,” she mouthed.

  Tessa clenched her jaw and waved her back as a young woman approached from the right. Her deep brown hair was secured in a tight chignon, her dark blue pants suit immaculate and sharply creased. While she was extremely pretty, with green eyes and delicate bone structure, her appearance was somewhat severe.

  “Good afternoon,” she crooned, extending her hand. “I’m Cynthia Kramer.”

  “Tessa Adams, TNT Entertainment. This is my associate Tiffany O’Donnell. We called about the tour for the corporate event at the end of June.”

  “Yes, very good.” She opened a flat hand toward the hall. “Right this way.”

  The first two floors of the east wing were much as Tessa expected, an office building with rooms positioned on opposite sides of a long hallway. Near the end, the corridors opened onto cubicles occupied by BFG staff, with the department manager offices stationed along the far wall. Passing by each one, Ms. Kramer introduced Tessa and Tiffany, explaining they would be frequenting the facility in preparation for the event.

  As they worked up through the building, the rooms down each hall became less frequent, larger and more ornate. Linoleum switched over to carpet, the cubicles disappeared in favor of glass-encased conference rooms. The titles of the department managers grew more impressive, as did the real estate and furnishings encompassing their offices.

  By the time Ms. Kramer escorted them to the fifth and top level of the building—the BFG executive suites—Tessa couldn’t wait to see what waited behind the elevator doors.

  She and Tiffany traded a furtive glance before stepping from the car.

  Each corner of the floor held a large, wood-paneled office, the four monstrosities dedicated to BFG’s corporate elite, complete with their own reception desk and secretary. But what truly bowled her over was the grand oak table, a masterpiece of artistry which dominated the center of the room. On either side, that same Louis XVI furniture from the first floor sat attractively arranged over sprawling Asian rugs. Crystal wall sconces glowed along the dark cherry walls, defining the space as a luxurious residence rather than an office suite.

  A gothic set of wide double doors occupied the farthest wall, but they weren’t shown inside, and while waiting before the elevator to leave, Tessa indicated their ominous appearance with a tilt of her head. “Where do those doors lead?”

  “That’s Mr. Brenner’s private suite.” Ms. Kramer lowered her silky voice. “Our tour does not include that area.”

  “Oh.” Tessa followed her onto the elevator.

  The building’s west wing comprised eight banquet halls: the Granada, the Coronado, the Alabaster, the Rotunda…Each time they entered another, Tessa was rocked back on her heels. If asked to choose a favorite, she would have been hard pressed to decide—perhaps the Athenian, with its Greco-Roman furnishings and hand-carved marble busts, or maybe the glass atrium of the Manhattan, its low-slung red velvet couches and Art Deco light fixtures reminiscent of a 1920’s speakeasy.

  After completing a circuit through the winding labyrinth of corridors, Ms. Kramer escorted them back to the reception hall and climbed the grand staircase behind the security desk. “And now for the Crystal Ballroom.” She tugged open one of the intricately carved doors.

  “Holy sh—”

  Tessa silenced Tiffany with a scathing glare at the same moment the corner of Ms. Kramer’s lips twitched. “Yes. This room has that effect on people.”

  Walls in shades of cream and white, coupled with the gray-veined marble floor, provoked the fantasy of stepping onto a cloud. Floor-to-ceiling windows swathed in tapestry drapes adorned the southern wall, and high overhead floated a two-story ceiling. Rainbows danced over every surface, cast by finely-cut crystals from the four enormous teardrop chandeliers suspended in each vaulted corner.

  Green flashed in the sunlight through the paned doors along the western wall, and Tessa’s heels clacked when she crossed the room and peered onto a vast lawn.

  Ms. Kramer approached from behind and swung the door wide. “This way to the terrace.”

  A wide veranda meandered the entire back of the building, a heavy cement balustrade framing the perimeter like a lazy serpent. Sprawling gardens and a rectangular reflecting pool rolled several acres to the edge of the property, flowering bushes and towering shrubs bordering each side. Beyond the foliage, two cement sidewalks led to identical brick buildings sitting directly opposite and facing each other. They were set at slight angles to accommodate their covered drive-through entrances, and the blue water of a sunken pool fluttered and glistened behind each one.

  “What are those buildings there?” Tessa pointed to each of them simultaneously.

  “Those are apartments for guests and their families the Park hosts from time to time.”

  “The Park?” Tiffany asked.

  Ms. Kramer inclined her head. “That is the name Mr. Brenner has given the grounds.” She drifted a hand toward the door. “This concludes our tour.”

  Tessa and Tiffany trailed her through the Crystal Ballroom and back to the front desk, pausing when she stopped to speak with the security guard. He opened a drawer and retrieved two thick leather portfolios.

  Tessa slid them into her briefcase before offering her hand. “We’ll begin some preliminary planning, and then be in touch regarding the details.”

  “That would be acceptable.” Ms. Kramer accepted Tiffany’s outstretched hand before gliding away, and they stood silent until she rounded a corner and disappeared.

  “Oh my God,” Tiffany whispered. They spun in unison and rushed for the door.

  Tessa’s thoughts wound to a babbling trill in her head. “We need to hire some people, like right now.”

  “Oh my God,” Tiffany repeated, tripping down the steps.

  “No way am I taking any time off.”

  Tiffany stopped on the sidewalk and clamped both hands on top of her head. “Oh my God, Tessa! This place is…it’s…it’s like something out of a movie.”

  Tessa retraced her steps, shackled Tiffany’s wrist, and toted her along behind. “In the ca-ar,” she sang from the side of her lips. “Not out here where everyone can see-e-e.”

  But ahead in the parking lot, a tall well-groomed gentleman stood near the back of Dibs’s Jag, chin lowered, gaze narrowed at the license plate. His thick silver hair glinted in the sunlight, slicked back from his forehead, his clean-shaven jaw somehow vaguely familiar. A tailored gray suit accented his shoulders, broad over a trim waistline.

  Tessa frowned as she continued those last few steps, closing the distance. “May I help you?”

  He lifted his head and advanced. “Yes, actually. I’m wondering if you could please tell me why you are driving my son’s car.”

  Panic drained the blood from her face. Oh. Shit.

  The family resemblance was obvious. But those piercing blue-gray eyes were what made her pulse pound, only a shade darker than Dibs’s.

  “Mr. Brenner.” She smiled brightly and extended her hand. “I’m Tessa Adams, a friend of Dibs’s…David’s.”

  A deep indent formed in his brow. “Tessa Adams…Tessa Adams…Where do I know that name from?”

  “This is my associate, Tiffany O’Donnell.” She stepped aside. “We’re TNT Entertainment, the company handling this year’s BFG event.”

  “Oh, I see.” He nodded, shaking Tiffany’s hand. “Very nice to meet you both.”

  He shifted his gaze back to Tessa, studied the car, and then slowly faced her a second time. Awareness flashed in his eyes. “You’re the woman from the newspaper photo.”

  She paused. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  He smiled, but the curve of his lips seemed more sly than genuine. “Yes…I underst
and everything now. You must be a personal friend of David’s.”

  Tiffany sputtered behind her.

  Tessa glanced over before quickly refocusing on Dibs’s father. “We are good friends, yes.”

  “I see. Very well, then.” He squinted, as if working through a troubling puzzle, and started toward the building.

  Peeking at him from the corner of her eye, Tessa reached for the car handle and swung the door wide.

  “I’m wondering.” He stopped on the sidewalk. “Do you happen to know when David is returning from Africa?”

  “He arrives back in the States on Sunday.”

  He lifted his brows. “Yes…that’s correct.”

  She sat in the car, waiting for Mr. Brenner to climb the steps and enter the building before starting the engine.

  My parents tend to find out everything, and they don’t always agree with the choices I make.

  Unease shivered down her spine. “Was that supposed to be some sort of test?”

  “Why didn’t you just tell him you’re Dibs’s girlfriend?”

  Tessa’s eyes widened over that horrifying suggestion. “Why in God’s name would I do that?”

  “Ah, because you are.”

  “Yeah, well, I think he figured that out on his own. Besides, Dibs should tell him, not me.” She stared at the building, replaying the scene. “Okay, is it just me, or was that whole thing really weird?”

  Tiffany clicked her seatbelt in place. “It was weird.”

  “I got the strangest vibe from him for a second there.”

  “It was weird, and he gave off a strange vibe.”

  Tessa pivoted in her seat. “Are you only agreeing with me so you can change the subject?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think we should talk about the BFG event?”

  “Definitely.”

  On the return drive from the Park, the two of them decided between the overwhelming workload, compounded by the time they would need to be away from the office, their best course was to hire two capable assistants. By the time they were back at their desks, they had settled on a placement service, hoping to fill the positions right away.

  The next two days passed in a blur of activity. With appointments, the constant stream of résumés, interviews, prepping materials for the Sandburg wedding, Tessa didn’t really have time to reconsider that awkward moment she shared with Mr. Brenner. So she wrapped up her discomfort and set it aside until she could discuss their impromptu meeting with Dibs.