"I came to the same conclusion as your father," Mom said. "This is not just his fault."
"Why didn't anyone ask me?" Matt said. "I could have told you."
Everyone ignored him.
Dad turned to Veronica. "I presume you arranged the financing she needed to pay for school without us?" She nodded. "Your own money." She nodded again. "You can afford this?"
"With some sacrifices, yes. I won't buy a new car this year. But yes I can afford it."
"Is it a gift, or a loan?"
"A loan," she said.
"And the terms?"
"Are none of your business," I told him. "The terms are between Veronica and me."
"Your father is a mortgage broker, Shane," Mom said. "You don't think he might have some professional interest in the matter?"
"And I am my father's daughter," I replied. "And I have listened to every word he ever said about money, loans, and the like. I can recognize good terms from bad ones."
Dad turned to Mom. "She's right," he said.
Dad turned back to me. "I believe that addresses the outstanding issues from the past. Now, we have the future. Your mother and I expect to see both of you every other weekend. More would be wonderful, but that's a minimum. You will coordinate with your mother."
He grinned triumphantly. "Now, who is going to explain about this dress you're wearing?"
Chapter 15: Remaining Ripples
Weeks turned into months turned into years. By the time I graduated from Knightly, I'd published several stories in magazines. Not big magazines, and I didn't make much money, but it was a start. The summer after junior year, I wrote my first novel. It was rejected by every publisher who ever saw it. But I wrote it for me, and Veronica loved it as well. That was all that mattered.
I never became famous, but I made enough as a writer that I never felt like I was a kept woman, either. I fiercely believed in what I was writing, and I developed a small but enthusiastic fan base.
I paid Veronica back for my student loan. That was a fight. I tried giving her the advance from my first novel that sold. We were at the dining room table, each of us going through our mail. I showed her the check, we kissed, and then I just signed it and handed the check to her and said, "First payment."
"What are you talking about?"
"My student loan," I told her. "Here's my first payment."
"When we made that loan, I told you that as long as we were dating, I wasn't accepting payments against it. I promised that. Are you trying to make me break my promise? Do you want me to start breaking other promises to you?"
She slid the check back to me.
"And I promised to you that I would pay it back. And I am, starting right now."
The check slid back and forth on the table several times before Veronica slammed her hand on the table. "No!" she yelled at me.
That heated things up.
Eventually, of course, we came to an agreement. She absolutely would not allow me to pay any interest charges. Nor would she let me give her more than ten percent of anything I made. She would accept checks if I insisted on giving them to her, but she wasn't happy about it and as far as she was concerned, I didn't owe her a thing.
Over the next several years, in checks big and small, I repaid her. And several years after that, while we were contemplating a significant purchase, she took me to the bank and showed me a bank account with both our names on it. She'd taken every penny I'd given her and deposited the money.
She didn't scream my name that night, but she whispered it a lot.
* * *
I remained on Veronica's payroll up until the day she sold the company. It could be weeks or even months between days I worked for her, but when she needed me, I was there to step in.
There was one notable incident a year after I had graduated from college. I'd been working on my third novel for the last several weeks. When I write, I tend to lose focus on the other things around me, so I hadn't noticed that Veronica had been working longer and longer hours and was looking rather frazzled.
The previous night I'd been awake until well after two, writing. Veronica left before I got up. At ten I was still in my jammies, sitting on the sofa, editing the novel. There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for permission, Bob and Brian came in.
"Um. Hey guys, you could wait for me to answer." I started to give them shit then noticed their expressions. "What's wrong?"
"Why aren't you helping?" Bob asked me.
"Helping with what?"
"Veronica is in trouble, and you're sitting around in your jammies," said Brian.
"What? What kind of trouble? Is she okay?"
"She's working ninety-five hour weeks, and you haven't noticed?"
I hadn't noticed. What was wrong with me?
"Why so many hours? I told her to get some help in."
"She said Yes to too many clients. Frankly she had to, the work was too good to turn down, and several of them are longtime clients we wouldn't want to lose. So she has that extra work load," Bob explained.
"And she hired an assistant, but well, she's not you." Brian added.
"Shit," I said. I dropped the laptop on the sofa and headed to the bedroom. I grabbed a business suit and hauled it back out to the living room. "Okay, details," I said.
Then, right in front of the two guys, I stripped out of my jammies, put on a bra, then pulled on the suit. I turned around and said, "Zip me," then fumbled into a pair of stockings. It was then I noticed neither of them were giving me any of the details. I looked at them and they were both staring at me. Bob's jaw had dropped open.
"Um. You guys are gay, right?"
"I've got a girlfriend," Brian said. "We're getting married next month. Didn't you get the wedding invitation?" He pointed to Bob. "And he wishes he had a girlfriend."
"Oh shit," I said. I'd just stood naked in front of two of Veronica's employees. "Please please PLEASE do not tell Veronica I just did that."
"Scout's honor," said Brian. Then he reached over and closed Bob's mouth for him.
I finished getting dressed without doing anything else too terribly stupid. I decided to forego makeup and then led the way next door to the office. I stormed in.
"Why didn't you say something?" I demanded as I stormed into her office. I had my hands on my hips and glared at her. Bob and Brian hid in the hallway. I noticed some mousy girl standing behind Veronica, but I ignored her.
Veronica noticed Bob and Brian and looked back at me. "You two are fired!" she said.
"No they are not," I said. "You two get in here, stop skulking." Then I looked at her. "Well?"
"You were writing. Feeding the muse. I can handle it."
"The muse is fed," I told her. "I finished last night. Now it's just editing, and the muse takes a break and visits someone else for that, anyway. She thinks editing is boring."
I looked around. "Bob, I need a list of active clients and any due dates. Plus any that we think are about to become active. And anything else I need to know. I need it now."
"I need ten minutes," he replied. I nodded, and he ran to his office.
"Brian, other than the work load, what else is wrong? What is she handling that I can handle?" I pointed to Veronica.
"None of us got paid today. That's the current crisis. The accounting company had problems with their computers. They said it will be fixed early next week."
"Shit. Okay. You." I snapped my fingers at the girl. "I don't know your name."
"I'm Melissa," she said in a small voice.
"I'm Shane. I am the sometimes office manager." I'd just given myself a new title. "Melissa, I need the payroll numbers and the name and number of our contact at the accounting firm. I used to know that, but it tends to change."
She stood there, staring at me.
I turned to Brian. "How long has she worked here?" I asked, pointing to Melissa.
"Six weeks," he said quietly.
I turned back to Melissa. "The information I need should b
e on that iPad in your hands. I know. I'm the one who put it there." I watched as she started flipping through the iPad, clearly not having a clue what she was doing.
I stormed over, took it from her, and went to the information I needed. The data looked old, so I checked Veronica's calendar, then other pieces of information. "What the fuck?" I said. "This hasn't been synced in a week and a half."
I walked around Veronica's desk, leaned over her, and checked the calendar there. There were recent updates, but it hadn't been synced to the server, either.
"What. The. Fuck!" I yelled, turning to glare at Melissa. "What the hell have you been doing? How can you do your job if you don't keep the data sync'd." I spun around to Brian. "Has Veronica been missing client meetings?"
"They've been getting double booked," he said. "Sometimes triple. Bob and I are trying to cover, but there's only so much we can do."
I spun back to Melissa, who by now was quivering and shrinking away from me. She hadn't said a word since she'd given me her name.
"Shane, it's not her fault," Veronica said quietly. "You were trained properly. She hasn't been. If you're going to yell, yell at me."
I looked at Veronica then back to Melissa.
"Do you have a brain?"
She nodded.
"Are you willing to use it?"
She nodded.
"Until this crisis is over, you will shadow me. You will learn your job. If you do not learn your job to my satisfaction by the time I have fixed this mess, you are fired. Do you want me to fire you?"
She stuck her chin out. "You're not my boss. You can't fire me."
I recognized that look. It took her time, but she had a backbone. "You're still in school? Where?"
"Knightly. It's a-"
"I know about Knightly," I said. My expression turned dark, and I turned to Veronica.
She shrugged. "The last student I hired from Knightly turned out so well, I thought I'd try again."
I looked back at Melissa. She was kind of cute. I turned back to Veronica. "If she's gay you are in deep shit."
Brian started snickering at that. "Shane," he said quietly. "We have a lot of things here for you to fix, but that's not one of them."
"Melissa," Veronica said. "Do whatever Shane tells you."
I synced the computers, looked at Veronica's schedule, then grabbed the payroll information I needed. I grabbed a piece of paper from Veronica's desk, wrote a name and number on it, and turned to Melissa.
"Your office here is still yours, Shane," said Veronica. "I don't let anyone else use it."
"Melissa, my office is next door." I pointed. "Go in there, dial this number, and get this person on the line. If you have trouble getting this person, start yelling at them and threatening to sue their asses."
She scampered away just as Bob returned with the information I needed. I glanced at it, showed it to Veronica, and said, "Anything missing?"
She scanned it and added two more names.
I took the list back. "Why is everyone working on too many clients?"
"We've been trying to hire," Veronica said, "But I can't find anyone I'm willing to work with."
I turned to the guys. "Is she being too picky?"
"No," they said. "Everyone who has come in has been legitimately a bad fit. Poor skills, too arrogant that no one would want to work with them, that sort of thing."
I scanned the list again. "Fine. What other crisis do we have?"
"My calendar is a mess," Veronica admitted. "The appointments are all over town."
"I'll fix it. You guys, do some design stuff. I'll take care of everything else."
I marched out and over to my office. Melissa was on the phone. "That's right!" she said. "I need to speak to this person now or heads are going to roll. RIGHT NOW."
I looked at the clock. Then I heard Melissa say, "Finally. Please hold for Shane-"
"Dowling," I told her.
"Shane Dowling." She put the call on hold.
"Good job," I told her. I used the iPad and flipped to the contact page for a local caterer we've used before. "Find another phone. Call these people. Tell them we need food for everyone here, lots of food, every lunch this week and next. Ask them if they can do it."
I picked up the phone. "This is Shane Dowling. I am the Vice President of Operations for Veronica Wilson Designs. Why the hell did my employees not get paid today?" I loved giving myself two promotions within a ten-minute period.
I listened to a completely craptastic answer about broken computer systems.
"We are a 9-person company," I told them, scanning the payroll list. "It would take a first year bookkeeping intern about four minutes to do our payroll manually. So I presume that's already been done and the paperwork is being couriered over as we speak."
"That's not how we do it here," I was told.
"Listen to me and listen carefully," I said. "Ms. Wilson has used your accounting firm since she opened her business. She's been a loyal customer, if small. She has given referrals for your firm that I personally know have netted you four other clients, two of them significantly bigger than we are." I knew no such thing, but it sounded good. "She would love to continue what has until today been a harmonious relationship. But her first loyalty is to her employees, and They. Need. To. Be. Paid. Now, you will find some old lady who has worked on manual payroll systems for the first sixty of her years at your firm, and you will hand her the information I will fax to you the moment this phone call is over. She will do our paperwork manually and courier it back. You will call me when that has happened so I know to expect it. The information I need to write manual checks will be in my hands by 2 PM today so that my employees can deposit their checks and make their god damned rent!"
I paused. "If you can do these things, which will take only a few minutes, then everyone is happy, crisis averted, and we can move past this. If not, Ms. Wilson's client list includes a number of lawyers whose personal presences I severely dislike but who would love to file a lawsuit for us."
I listened to the response. "Excellent," I said sweetly. "I'm so glad we could work this out. Thank you so much for being so understanding. I will expect your return phone call within the hour."
I sent the payroll list to the printer, found it, then went in search of Melissa. She stood up as I entered the conference room.
"The caterer can't make an order today. They apologized, but it's just too short notice for them. They offered the rest of the week and next and a discount in thanks. I told them I'd call back. Then I called a local sandwich shop and arranged for sandwiches, chips, and pop. They also said they could do an afternoon snack tray. I ordered everything. Please tell me that was right."
"Okay, you have a brain," I told her. "Yes, that was right. Call back and confirm with the caterer, use your own judgment on it. Meet me back in Veronica's office when you're done."
I made use of the fax machine and sent off the payroll list. Then I grabbed my phone and hit a number.
"Shane!" came Jeremy's booming voice. "Please tell me you're calling to arrange another modeling session. I have some new things for you to see."
"Jeremy," I said. "Veronica needs your help for a few weeks. Are you free?"
"Oh honey, I might be cheap, but I'm never free."
I laughed. "You're not cheap, either. You're exceedingly expensive. Jeremy, if you do this for me, I'll model whatever you want."
"Shane, I'd love to help, but I don't know the least little thing about interior design. I do clothing."
"Jeremy, are you telling me you couldn't help pick out colors and fabrics?"
"Don't be insulting!" he said. "Of course I could, but anyone could do that."
"No, Jeremy, they couldn't. She needs you. Right away. Please."
"Of course I can come," he said. "I can be there in twenty minutes. Is that soon enough?"
"You're the best, Jeremy. I love you."
"I love you too. See you soon."
I called the accounting firm back and
verified they received the fax. They had. I then headed back to Veronica's office.
"Payroll will be resolved today," I said walking in. "We'll have to cut manual checks." I headed to Veronica's desk and nudged her aside to get the checkbook ledger.
"We heard," Veronica said. "The entire office heard."
I blushed. "Sorry."
"Don't be," said Brian. "Didn't you hear the applause?"
"I un-fired Bob and Brian," Veronica said. "They were right to get you."
"Of course they were. Lunches for the next two weeks are handled. No one needs to go out unless they want to. Melissa is going to work out, she has a brain in there after all." I was counting on my fingers. "One more thing. Oh yeah, Jeremy will be by shortly to fill in. Figure out how you can use him."
Veronica's eyes got wide. "Why didn't I think of him? Oh, he's going to be brilliant. I've never met anyone who was better with fabric."
After that I started cleaning up Veronica's schedule. It was a mess. I moved everything around. Several clients were unhappy about it, but I told them Veronica was just so excited about their projects she wanted to talk to them sooner. Or she was working so hard on their projects and wanted to get them just right, so it would take another day or two. That mollified everyone.
Jeremy showed up. He came ambling in, taking up half the space of the office. He saw me and pulled me into a huge Jeremy hug. "I'm so glad you called!" he said. Then he did what he always did -- he started messing with my clothes.
"What are you wearing? That is hideous." He started trying to rearrange it.
"Jeremy, until you start designing a clothing line I can actually wear to the office, I'm stuck with what I can find."
* * *
The crisis was averted. Melissa worked out, at least for the summer. Jeremy was brilliant and loved it, but was happy to get back to clothes when everything was caught up. Veronica and I both worked crazy hours, but things settled back down, especially once I found two more designers.
The punishment for changing clothes in front of Bob and Brian was exquisite.
* * *
Eventually I was bringing in enough money from writing that I asked Veronica, "What charities do you donate to? How do you pick them?"
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