by Dara Girard
Corinne softly swore. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She didn’t even know why that jerk at the metro station came to mind. He was someone she definitely wanted to forget. She wondered how many hearts he’d broken both carelessly and intentionally.
Vivian held up a hand in warning. “You’re not allowed to say ‘nothing’.”
“I wasn’t really going to do it. I was just thinking about it.”
“About what?”
“Stepping in front of a train.”
Vivian gasped. “Corinne!”
“I know. I know. It was a moment of madness.”
Vivian gripped Corinne’s hand in both of hers. “Promise me you—”
“It was just a thought, but...” Her words trailed off.
“But what?”
“I don’t know how he guessed what I was thinking, only thinking,” she repeated seeing the horror on her friend’s face, “but he told me not to do it because it would inconvenience him.”
“What a shining knight,” Vivian said with sarcasm.
“I know. I briefly thought of pushing him in front of the train, I doubt anyone would miss him.”
“Still, I’m glad he snapped you out of it.”
“He didn’t do anything except ruin my day because I was only thinking it.”
“Sure,” Vivian said unconvinced. “Want me to come over?”
“I’m fine.”
“Promise you’ll eat whatever you don’t finish here.”
Corinne nodded. “Sure. Sure.”
“If you ever think of doing something like that again, you’ll call me first, right?”
“I wasn’t going to...okay fine,” she said quickly when Vivian narrowed her eyes.
Vivian pointed at her. “That’s a promise you’d better keep.”
Chapter Four
Eat something she could hear Vivian telling her.
Men don’t stay with women like us came Bonnie’s voice.
Corinne saw herself reflected in the metro’s window as the train went through a tunnel. Vivian was right. She didn’t inspire confidence because she’d lost it. She’d lost her spark and fire. She’d poured everything into making sure Jason was all right, without him… what was left to care about?
She stepped off the train and headed to the upper platform, imagining her empty house then stopped when she saw a familiar older woman in a large brown overcoat struggling with a lot of shopping bags. She rushed over to her. “Let me help you,” she said, wishing she remembered the older woman’s name. She’d seen her at her son’s school.
“Oh, thank you. I bought too much again. My daughter will scold me.”
She followed the woman up the escalator as the biting March wind swept through the open mouth of the archway leading to the main level and exit, where the more leisurely sounds of suburban traffic was a welcome change to the rushed noise of the city. She looked around the parking lot. “Is someone picking you up?”
“No, I live in that apartment complex across the street. But you’ve helped me enough—”
“It’s no trouble at all.” Her parked car wasn’t going anywhere and there was no one waiting for her at home so Corinne welcomed the distraction. She needed to feel useful. Once they were inside the apartment building she said, “What floor?”
“Seventh.”
She’d also seen the woman around at the local park where Jason liked to play. Corinne had seen her with a younger woman and two young children.
“My name is Corinne.”
“Doris.”
“Do you like it here?” she asked just to be social.
“Yes, I’ve come to help my daughter. She is alone now.”
“Widowed?”
“With luck.”
“I’m sorry?” Corinne said not sure she understood. “He died?”
“No,” Doris said with a laugh. “No, I only wish she were. He ran off. We don’t know where he is. He was such a storyteller, promised her the sun and stars, gave her two children and then left. Poof! No word. My daughter still has hope, but I do not.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ve seen you at the school with your son.”
Corinne felt her throat close. “Yes.”
“And that good looking man.”
“My ex.”
“Ahh...I see,” Doris said in a low voice filled with meaning. “At least you know where he is.”
“True.” It didn’t help, she couldn’t make up stories, she couldn’t pretend that they’d get back together again. That hope had been lost long ago as well as the thought of finding someone new. She wasn’t interested in romance. She just wanted the basics—keep a roof over her head, take care of her son, have food in the fridge, not run into heartless creeps at the tube station, simple things like that.
“I never did thank you for helping little Nico.”
Nico was about two and had decided to strip off his clothes and run naked around the playground. Corinne had managed to capture the giggling boy and return him to his horrified guardian. “It was nothing.”
“You’re very kind.”
She wasn’t sure that was a compliment. Being kind was only something to encourage in children, adults were supposed to be ruthless and selfish; at least that’s what the present media seemed to tout.
Corinne stepped into the apartment then paused, unsure she’d entered the right place. Her gaze fell on the expensive paintings, exquisite wood flooring, recessed lighting and stylish furniture.
“What did you say your daughter does?” She set the shopping bags down with extra care afraid she would drop them.
“I didn’t. She works at a construction firm. I’m lucky she and the little ones aren’t home yet from their drive to Pennsylvania to visit family.” Doris sent Corinne a knowing look. “You’re impressed, yes?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s mine.”
“Yours?”
“Yes, I let my daughter rent it from me. I also have two other small places. After my divorce I realized that I’d never be able to retire if I didn’t figure out another source of income. I was fortunate.”
She had the light of spirit that reminded Corinne of her grandmother. A woman who lived life to the fullest. Who faced hard times with courage and triumphed. Doris had managed to become self-sufficient after her divorce, to be in a healthy financial position that she could support her daughter, and looked happy with her life. Corinne worried that she would never be independent and that her sisters would start to see her as a freeloader. “I want to be you.”
Doris laughed. “Really?”
“You seem so together and successful and...alive.”
“So are you.”
“No, I’m not.”
Doris took out a little black book. “Really?”
Corinne sighed. She didn’t want to burden this woman with her troubles. “I’d better go.”
“No, sit. Please.”
She reluctantly sank into the dark green sofa surprised by how soft it felt.
Doris sat in front of her. “Who do you want to be?”
“Someone my son can be proud of.”
“Only him?”
She glanced at the large flat screen TV on the wall. “I’d like to be proud of myself too, but...”
“But what?”
She returned her gaze to the woman. “It’s too late.”
“Look at you. You’re barely in your thirties and you think it’s too late?”
Corinne sighed. “I don’t know how to change.”
Doris wrote something in her book. “But you want to?”
“I guess. What are you—”
“You’re not certain?”
“I am,” Corinne corrected, responding to a determined tone in the older woman’s voice. “I do want to change.”
“What do you want to see different?”
“I’d like my business to be better and...I’m sorry, but what are you writing?”
“Forgive me,” Doris said
with a laugh. “I don’t remember things if I don’t write them down. What do you do?”
“I’m an event planner.” She dug inside her purse to search for one of her business cards. Perhaps she could use her services one day. “Here’s my card.”
Doris took it and studied it, murmuring “Very nice”, before she tucked it inside the book and said, “Men.”
Corinne leaned forward not sure she’d heard her correctly. “I’m sorry?”
“Are you interested in men?”
“No.”
“Women then?”
She shook her head. “I’m confused.”
“You’re not sure yet?” Doris nodded. “I understand. After a man breaks your heart it’s easy to think you’ve wasted your—”
Corinne waved her hands. “No, I’m… You’re being very kind and understanding, but I don’t understand how that’s relevant.”
“Forgive me I should have been more clear. Would you like someone special in your life?”
“Jason is enough for me.”
“And when Jason is gone?”
“I don’t think I can stand heartbreak again.”
“So you’d rather be alone?”
Corinne bit her lip. “It’s easier.”
“But what do you want?”
“I want someone I can depend on, someone I can truly trust, someone who doesn’t make me feel as if they’d rather be somewhere else with someone else.”
“I guess your ex taught you that.”
“I don’t want to make him the villain in all this. He really is a good guy but with him I always felt he wanted someone more thrilling and exciting and that’s not me. I’m boring.”
“To the right person you won’t be. So that’s a ‘yes’?”
“Yes?”
“You’d like to meet someone? A man?”
Corinne frowned wondering why that would matter. “Sure, I guess.”
“You only guess?” Doris said, a sharp tone returning to her voice.
“Yes, if by some miracle I could turn my business around, make my son proud, feel happy again and meet someone who doesn’t find me boring that would be amazing.”
The woman closed the black book with a happy grin. “I hope you mean it.”
Chapter Five
Shaken.
Vivian had never felt so shaken.
She had been so shaken by Corinne’s appearance and her thoughts of stepping in front of train that Vivian had almost missed her appointment with Brett Lattimore that Monday, but she’d managed to get herself together enough to face him.
Because facing the founder of Quest, a Washington DC property management company, always took effort.
She’d been hired to discuss possible ideas for an employees’ appreciation event. Inside his wood paneled office she quickly and precisely told him different options then gave him her best suggestions and waited.
He tapped his forefinger against the desk, measuring her with his keen dark gaze before he said, “Sure.”
Vivian blinked unsure she’d heard him correctly. It wasn’t like Brett to agree to something so readily. Especially something Quest had never done before. She thought if she’d told him about the company hosting an awards ceremony for the employees to booster morale and cohesiveness it would be met with resistance. His last booster event, where he’d treated his employees to a special luncheon, hadn’t gone well when he’d announced that he was adding to their 401(k)s rather than handing out bonuses. “They’ll thank me in a couple years,” he later told her. But he now wanted to do something more.
“So it’s a go?” Vivian said cautious.
Brett nodded. “Yes, along with the dancing koala bears and boxing kangaroos.”
She inwardly groaned. Yes, that was the response she’d been expecting. The Brett they’d all gotten used to. She’d consulted with him before and now knew when to expect his dry, biting humor. He reminded her of an ex-boyfriend—a delicious mistake with a foul mouth, five earrings and six tattoos—from her misspent youth except Brett seemed to be a little more dangerous.
There was an untamed wildness that Brett’s crisp shirts couldn’t hide. But for some reason although he sometimes made her nervous when she couldn’t read his mood, he never made her feel afraid. Perhaps that was why they worked well together. Their first meeting had been less than ideal. Not only had she been late, she’d confused him with another client due to a scheduling mix-up because of her new assistant, and had called him by that client’s name for nearly a half-hour before she realized her mistake and apologized profusely, surprised he hadn’t corrected her sooner.
She’d been certain she’d made a terrible impression on him, so she’d been surprised when he’d called her again. But she was good at what she did and he always liked to deal with the best, or so he told her. “So no awards ceremony?”
“No.”
“You haven’t liked any of my suggestions.”
He rested his chin in his hand, bored. “You only gave me three.”
She stared at him stunned. “I gave you fifteen!”
“You did? Sorry, wasn’t paying attention. Give them to me again.” He held up a hand. “Only your top five. You know I don’t like weeding through your brainstorming sessions.”
He was right. She’d been in a hurry and hoped to overwhelm him with options in order to hide the fact that most weren’t that good. Clever bastard. “An appreciation dinner. Spa Retreat. Outdoor team building. A—” She stopped when he pointed at her. “What?”
“I’ve got an idea.”
She inwardly groaned. “You cannot repeat the luncheon. While your heart was in the right place it—”
He brushed her words aside. “I know. I won’t do that. I want to do a training. No a workshop. Perhaps a seminar. What’s the difference anyway?”
“That’s suppose to booster morale?” Vivian said doubtful.
“Yes,” he said, growing excited. He rubbed his chin, looking deviously sexy and pensive, which was not always a good sign. What interested Brett didn’t always interest others. “Yes, that’s what I want to do. They have helped me with my wealth; I want to help them grow their own.”
“I’m not sure—”
“I’ll share key information on how they can build wealth by harnessing the power of assets, the joys of compound interest.” He pulled out a notepad and started furiously writing. “I know three people I’d want to speak and the topics that need to be discussed. I know that we won’t have time to go over them all, but I’ll pare it down later.” He handed her the pad. “Here. Tell me what you think.”
She looked at his writing and gasped in shock. “You have seventy-seven ideas?”
“No, that’s eleven.”
“You really need to work on your numbers. Your ones look like sevens.”
“Never mind.” He wiggled his fingers and she handed him back the notepad. “What do you think?” He jotted another idea down. “Maybe it could be an annual event.”
He looked so excited she didn’t want to discourage him. If he wanted to help his employees this way, she would help him. As a business consultant, this wasn’t her specialty, but she knew an event planner who would be perfect. Corinne could use a chance like this. “I know just the woman for the job.”
Chapter Six
All thoughts of her strange conversation with Doris left Corinne that Monday when she sat in her office facing Phyllis Lynde.
Corinne felt the blood leave her face. “A new color scheme?”
“Yes, silver and gold.”
“B-but we’ve had everything set for purple.”
“I don’t like purple anymore. It reminds me of my ex.”
“But the event is in a couple weeks.”
“I know.”
Corinne took a deep breath. She would not panic. She would not grab Phyllis and shake her like a rag doll. Phyllis was a woman in her fifties with two double chins she only drew attention to by wearing turtlenecks of the brightest shade she could find. T
oday’s choice was neon pink, which matched her nail polish and eye shadow. She owned two boutique stores and had hired Corinne to host an event to highlight the clothes of upcoming designers. “We had things specifically designed for the color scheme we agreed on,” Corinne said hoping to help her see the gravity of this change.
“I know.”
“Then you realize that a change like this—”
“Is within my rights. I had my lawyer look over the contract and it said that a client can’t make any unreasonable changes. This isn’t unreasonable.”
“I don’t think—”
“I can also just cancel the contract and hire someone else.”
“Yes. That is an option.”
“But I don’t want to. You came highly recommended and we work so well together. I knew it would be a pain so I made you these homemade muffins.” She handed Corinne a box that smelled like something warm and sweet.
“Thanks.”
She was a nightmare. A horror. A spoiled brat who Corinne hoped to never work with again, but she hoped to get referrals from this event. She could make it happen. “There will be an additional fee included due to—”
Phyllis made a dismissive wave of her hand. “That’s fine. I don’t care what it costs as long as it’s done.” She stood. “Can't wait.”
“Yes.”
Corinne waited for the door to close before she rested her head on the desk. She didn’t know how long she stayed that way before she heard someone knock on the door. Her heart lifted with hope. Perhaps Phyllis had come to her senses? “Yes, come in.”
Vivian walked into the room. Corinne’s hopes fell and she rested her head back on the desk. She heard the door close.
“Should I even ask?” Vivian asked, taking a seat.
Corinne shook her head.
“I will anyway. What happened?”
She lifted up her head and sighed, defeated. “A client wants to change the color scheme. She’s set on it.”
“And you told her no, right?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I need this.”
“Phyllis right?”
“How did you know?”
“I just avoided—I mean—saw her. Her boutiques are amazing but the woman’s a nightmare. And this is the second time she’s made you look like that.”