Butterflies in Honey (Growing Pains #3)

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Butterflies in Honey (Growing Pains #3) Page 14

by K. F. Breene


  Her eyes filled with tears before she could help it or turn away. Sean flinched, but Krista was out the door before he could react. Once in the hall, she took a couple of deep breaths, straightened her back, put her head up, and started walking faster. She was good at what she did. She deserved her spot. She proved herself over and over again. To hell with this oversized boys’ club! It will not beat me!

  Krista got to the meeting hall, took another deep breath, and crossed the threshold. Marcus was over talking to all the admins, which made sense because he was supposed to be one of them, and also because they would have the best gossip in the place. She also noticed with pride that she was the best dressed woman. She even gave most of the men a run for their money. Eyes found and followed her as she made the long walk to her table, head held high, importance flaring. She pretended she was on the way to a presentation. Today they would all know she was a manager. The Big Bitch manager, to be exact. She wore the title like a banner as she found her table and again sat next to Bob. Sink or swim.

  “Hey guys,” she said as she sat down.

  “Hello Ms. Fields,” Donald replied. He was ready to take notes today. He had one pencil, one pen, and one eraser all lined up beside his notepad.

  Georgie glanced over, but other than that, it was like she didn’t exist. Outwardly unperturbed, she took out her laptop and opened her word-pad. While she waited, she also opened solitaire.

  Some minutes later, Sean showed up, looking dapper in his suit, and took out a laptop as well. Janice sat with him, her pen and paper at the ready.

  “Alright everyone,” Sean said, leaning toward his team, “Managers will have team building after this. Admins will also, but separately. For each win we get, we get a point. Regions with the most points at the end of the weekend get a prize. I don’t care about the prize, but I do care about winning. In addition to whatever prize the company gives, I’ll give each of you $100.”

  “$500,” Krista said without looking up.

  “Excuse me?”

  She did look up, then. It appeared that in order for Krista to prove she was an asset this weekend, her region would have to produce. If their region would have to produce, she would need them to get their stinkin’ heads out of their asses and get with it. Sean had tried his way of motivating; Krista was now going to use hers. She wanted to win. She wanted the one region with the chick to beat every entrenched asshole in the place. And by God, her team would show up this weekend and learn to work or she would taunt them until they had nervous breakdowns.

  She pointedly looked at everyone before turning back to Sean. “$500. $100 will barely cover the celebratory drinks. I want money to buy a new handbag. I have my eye on a Burberry. They’re expensive.”

  “Krista, this is your job. I am just giving you a bump,” Sean said tersely. The other managers got nervous.

  She shrugged. “My job is showing up and participating. What’s winning worth to you?”

  “What guarantee can you give me?” Sean countered, a spark in his eyes.

  Krista looked at the guys. “Well?”

  “There is no guarantee,” Donald said.

  “Donald, you’re not helping,” Krista reflected. “How’s this—first place, $500 each. Second place, $400. Third $200. None, $100.”

  Sean stared at her, trying not to smile. “$500 to win, $100 for second. All or nothing.”

  Krista turned back to the guys, leading the negotiation, but doing it democratically. They had to be on board, or this whole thing was a no-go. “What do you say, guys? That fair?”

  Five hundred dollars had their eyes alight. Bob looked at Dean, who looked at Georgie. Georgie and Donald were looking at Krista with expressions of shock.

  “Sounds good to me,” Georgie said quickly. “That’ll get my daughter the new bike she’s been talking about for her birthday.”

  “Yeah but,” Krista said, leaning over the table to get closer, “I don’t want to get my hopes up for that handbag if I’m going to be the only one busting my ass…”

  “What help do you think you’ll be?” Bob said snidely.

  Sean opened his mouth to say something, but Krista beat him to it. “Goddamn it, Bob, I’m here to win. I’m here to do a good job, as a team. And I think we can. You guys don’t have to like me. And guess what? I don’t care. But like me or not, you have to work with me. And you know what else? I’m making you all look like fools—not because your branch has the only woman in it, but because a girl half your age came in, changed things up, saved the company money, and took you ol’ farts to the cleaners. And all you can think to do is try and put me down? That makes you look ridiculous, Bob. So now we have a chance to prove ourselves, to unite against the other branches and rub their faces in it, and you are still bickering with me. Is that what a man does in your eyes?”

  The whole table stared at Krista with their mouths open. She’d never thrown her weight around before. They hadn’t known she had any weight to throw. Which she didn’t, but it had never stopped her in the past—the overachiever complex was a grueling thing.

  Finally Donald said, “That’s a fair assessment. But I’m still not sure we can win. New York has been working together for a very long time. They’ve won 95% of the competitions.”

  “They’re complacent,” Georgie countered. “We have new blood. Plus, Sean and Krista work exceptionally well together. That’ll help.”

  “You’re on then, Sean. I’ll collect the $500 on Monday.” Krista went back to her game of solitaire. The guys wouldn’t want to be her friend. Not yet, and maybe not ever. They also wouldn’t appreciate that overachiever status—they didn’t seem like the kind of guys that were at the top of their classes in school. Her being aloof and withdrawn let them off the hook.

  They started talking strategy. They didn’t even know what to expect and they were talking strategy. Boobs.

  ~*~*~*~

  Ordinarily, Sean would be staring at Krista, trying to figure out how to get in her pants. She was hot when she took control. This time, however, he was staring at the guys.

  He wasn’t sure what, but something had lit a fire under her butt. She was ready to kick some ass. What he also didn’t know was how the hell she had done that? Ten minutes. It had taken ten minutes, and they were working together more now than they ever had. What’s more, they were on board. They’d been led by the chick they hated, agreed to what she proposed, and then trudged along happily on the path she set for them. It was incredible.

  If Krista had had an MBA, she should have taken a role similar to Sean. She was an excellent leader. He’d just seen proof and he couldn’t wait to tell Tory, who would get a kick out of what he’d just witnessed.

  Sean went to his computer and opened IM. He sent Krista a message:

  Thanks 

  Krista looked up briefly, glanced at the guys to make sure they weren’t spying, and angled her computer away from Bob’s prying eyes.

  The message back said:

  Sorry to step on your toes. They need to step up their game if you want to win.

  I thought you needed a bad cop to get them pointed in the right direction.

  From Sean:

  I’ll take it. I wish you would’ve done it sooner.

  It was impressive…

  Krista looked up bashfully and met his eyes. He winked.

  She flushed and looked back down, a smile curling the edges of her pink lips.

  From Krista:

  Ah shucks. It twernt nuthin.

  Sean laughed outright. It was his old Krista. And it felt so damn good to talk to her without barriers again. It wouldn’t last for long this time around, but it was a start. It was a beginning. He had more groveling to do—she wouldn’t be satisfied until he was crawling on his belly—but it was a definite start.

  Sean muttered something about a funny email to the guys, who had looked up when he started laughing, and closed the IM. He couldn’t help but notice Krista was still smiling.

  Chapter Thirteenr />
  When the meeting started, the subject was structural development. Krista’s hands were flying on the keyboard. She was going so fast at one stage, working to get every last idea and the corresponding detail, that the table next to them looked over. She was too rushed to be embarrassed, though. It was really interesting stuff, not to mention useful to what Sean was trying to do, and she was desperate to get it all down. She was hoping Janice or Sean would get what she missed.

  When the talk finally ended, she leaned back with a sigh.

  “How many words can you type?” Georgie asked with interest. Bob snorted, much like a pig would, and got up from the table with Dean.

  Since it was the first time Georgie openly asked her a question, she wanted to be cordial and inviting in her response. She didn’t want to burn the olive branch he was offering. “Um, I’m not really sure. I’ve never taken one of those tests. But in school the laptop was my main source of note taking, and I am a pretty adamant taker of notes, so I got pretty familiar.”

  He sighed. “I wish I could type half that fast. It’d really speed things up.” He got up from the table and followed Donald out of the meeting hall.

  It wasn’t much, but through that dialogue Georgie didn’t sneer once. It was a start.

  As Krista was putting away her computer, she noticed Sean looking at her out of the corner of her eye. When she met his soft green gaze, he just winked, then followed everyone else out of the meeting hall.

  He’d noticed the dialogue between her and Georgie, and he’d thought it was just as promising as she did. It helped her realize that even though Sean was keeping his distance, he was on her side. He wanted her to break through just as much as she did. And for that, she was infinitely grateful.

  The regions got a two-hour break to change and get some lunch. They would then meet at another large, banquet-style room. As was becoming usual, Krista picked something out, hit the bathroom to freshen up, and then found a different outfit waiting on her bed.

  Marcus was starting to get overbearing.

  When the time came, she headed down alone again—Sean wanting to stay behind with Janice, and Marcus already down there. She found the right room, after accidently walking into someone else’s meeting the first time around, and then found her region’s table. She sat down with another, “Hey guys.”

  Georgie and Donald glanced up but didn’t say anything. Dean leered and Bob ignored her totally. At least they acknowledged hearing her voice. Baby steps.

  Sean joined them a couple minutes later, which made Krista wonder what was so important that he couldn’t walk down with her. She pushed it aside and cleared her mind. She would get nowhere thinking about him all weekend.

  “Alright,” Sean said with his game face on, “let’s do this. I think we have a real shot, but we have to work together. We work together, we win. No other way.”

  Everyone nodded. No one looked at each other.

  The banquet hall had a bunch of long, segregated tables that fit eight. On each table was a cardboard divider down the middle of the table lengthwise. It was like table tennis except the net wasn’t see-through and was going down the table instead of across.

  Later they would learn that each team needed to break into pairs. One part of the pair would sit on one side, the other on the opposite. On each person’s desk space was either a picture or a bunch of wood shapes. The person with the picture was supposed to explain using only words—no hand gestures of any kind—what the picture looked like. Their partner was then supposed to create that picture using the shapes.

  There would be a round for each partner to try to explain, then listen and place the shapes accordingly. Each person would cycle through until everyone had worked together. At the end of what the judge called “practice rounds,” the best pair would compete against the best pairs of the other regions.

  Sean and Krista paired off first since no one wanted to work with Krista or Sean. They both figured they’d probably make it to the final round, but would follow protocol. Krista got the picture first, and then Sean took his turn. Based on the fact Sean could read Krista like a book—she hadn’t realized—he did better putting the picture together. They both did great, though. Each picture was slightly flawed or skewed in some way, but it was mostly correct. They were far better than any of the other pairs.

  If that wasn’t a metaphor for their life, Krista didn’t know what was.

  Krista was then pushed toward Bob. It was a mess. He wouldn’t listen to her, she couldn’t understand him. They each hated the sight of the other, so they wouldn’t meet eyes. The picture and the pattern didn’t resemble each other one bit. If there was a piece in the correct spot, it had been an accident.

  Totally his fault, obviously. If only she had her lucky mug here to agree with her.

  Sean and Bob didn’t do much better. In fact, not many people did well with Bob, not even Dean who was his chum. It was enlightening for more than just Sean and Krista.

  Krista had the same problem with Dean as she had with Bob, and didn’t bother to finish out the time. This left her time to look at the other regions.

  Most couples were having a hard time of it, based on the scowls and out of control, though illegal, hand gestures. The difference between their teams and Sean’s was that they were at least having fun. Often times the hand gestures would result in laughing and sitting on one’s hands. When the time was up, most pairs looked over the divide and broke down in laughter.

  Georgie and Krista did pretty well. They weren’t as good as Krista and Sean, but they got a few things right. They didn’t joke, but they weren’t hostile. It was something they could work on.

  Next for Krista was Donald. She had the picture first.

  When the time started, she looked directly into Donald’s eyes, as she did everyone but that pig Bob, and was surprised when he didn’t flinch. He just waited patiently for her to start. When she did, spitting out the first description with the thorough detail for which she was known, he would look at her, tilt his head, then place the piece. He would listen to her entire explanation of the next piece, tilt his head, then place it. They didn’t get three pieces on the board when the time was up, but what they did get was exact. No difference between picture and actual pieces. No skew. Life-like representation!

  Krista was faced with a horrible realization—Donald’s thought process was similar to her own. She had always thought of him as part robot, and now they seemed to both speak the same language. Which meant…

  She didn’t even want to think about it. It wasn’t pretty. She just hoped no one else realized it.

  They switched roles. Krista understood Donald’s explanations easily. He was so methodical and organized that whatever he said made perfect sense. Krista could actually see what he was saying in her mind. Like he was drawing a map. The problem was, he needed to give the whole explanation before he could move on. It was a time waster because Krista didn’t often need even half the cues.

  When the time came to choose a pair, it was unanimous. Krista and Donald were it, much to Sean’s dismay. He really wanted to work with her. He wanted the two of them to lead his team to victory like the foolish romantic he was. He didn’t need convincing, though. He might have wanted her back, but he wanted to succeed more.

  Which had always been the problem.

  Donald and Krista, two misfits, took their places. The competing table closest was two old-timers from Texas. New York was beyond them. About half the tables had VPs in the mix. At the end of the room was Tory, standing impassive, watching the proceedings. If he noticed Krista, he gave no sign.

  “Okay, everyone. Get ready, set…GO!”

  “Donald, take the red stop sign and put it in the middle of your one foot by one foot square playing area. The top, bottom and sides of the stop sign should be parallel to the top, bottom and sides of your playing area.” Head tilt, piece placement. “Nod when finished please.” Nod. “Okay, next take your parallelogram. It looks like a diamond. There are t
wo. It is the largest of the two. Place one side on the top of the stop sign so that, if it could point, it would be pointing right.” Head tilt, piece placement, nod. “Okay…”

  Krista kept her eye on the time and on Donald’s cues. She could tell when he wasn’t getting something because he got a crease down the middle of his eyebrows. When she saw that crease, she altered her explanation until that crease went away. Only twice did she get a head shake instead of a nod, in which she had to explain again, using different wording. They finished with three seconds to spare.

  “Tory, please do the honors,” The ref said. Tory walked between the tables, all smiles and fun. He gave a couple nods to groups that had done a good job, and once outright laughed. That pair probably didn’t hit the mark.

  When he got down to Sean’s region, the last in line, he stopped abruptly. He looked up and met Krista’s eyes in surprise. He angled his head to look at Donald, who was complacently looking over Krista’s right shoulder—much like a robot on sleep mode. Tory then looked beyond them to Sean, who had to wait toward the back of the hall for the results with the rest of the regions.

  “Well, this is a first,” Tory said to the ref. “The image is almost exact.”

  The ref walked over and looked at Donald’s work. He looked at Krista’s image then said, “Los Angeles is the winner!”

  Donald and Krista met eyes over the divider. She was in awe. She never actually thought they’d win. Donald looked just as surprised. That was about when the rest of the team descended on them with smiles and jeers. Sean looked at Krista with incredulous eyes. She wanted to hug him, he wanted to kiss her, but they settled instead with smiling radiantly at each other and missing what they had.

  Krista would also need to get a new pair of underoos. Sean looked damn good when he was on top of the world.

 

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