Cross Your Mind (An Emerson Novel Book 3)

by K L Finalley

  "That was a crazy night. I came up here to get my laptop. I was gonna work over the weekend on the banner design and things got outta control. Couldn't have been more than twenty minutes."

  "So, you admit that my interpretation of that picture is accurate?"

  "Hell yeah. It never happened with you? You never had some office action? Come on." Clementine shook her head to a beat that no one else heard.

  Jacqueline looked at Jill who closed her eyes and gave a slow, but steady nod. "Clementine, I think it's time for us to part ways. The Sun has an obligation to adhere to certain ethical and moral standards. Since you have demonstrated repeated difficulty achieving those standards, we cannot in good faith continue your employment. I realize this is a delicate situation, therefore only Jill will maintain a confidential file detailing the events of your separation."

  "Wait, what?"

  "I think you have a world of talent and I appreciate all you've done for the Sun, but I'm not sure we're a right fit for you. I think you need a more…"

  "Wait," Clementine held her hand up. "What the fuck are you sayin'?"

  "Clementine, I'm sure you're in shock. However, we think it's best…," Jill tried to explain.

  "Fuck you, you two dolla whore," Clementine blasted. "Jacqueline, are you firing me? How could you?"

  In that moment, Clementine looked betrayed and confused. Hoping to help her understanding, Jacqueline spoke to her with honesty. "You're all over the place. You're late. You're asleep. You're crass. You had sex on a co-worker's desk and you sent him those damn pictures. What were you thinking? Where is any of this okay?"

  "I thought it was okay since we were grown, bitch." Clementine jumped up. The force of her sudden movement pushed the chair into the glass. It bounced off the glass and rolled back towards the table.

  "Calm down," nervously, Jill said.

  With her hand outstretched, Jacqueline pointed to Jill, "Don't worry. I can handle this, Jill." She stood, straightened her clothes, and faced Clementine. "What? Curse words make you grown. Since when? Thirteen?"

  "I took this small-time company and made it big time! You weren't shit before me!"

  "We were number two in the region before you came and made a website. Now, we're at one point five. You've done amazing work," Jacqueline said.

  "I can't believe you're gonna fire me, because that pencil dick says I harassed him."

  "No, I fired you, because you lack judgment, self-control, and maturity. And, you did harass him. And, all of this. This outburst. This insanity proves I've made a good decision in separating you from the company."

  "I'm gonna sue all of you for discrimination." Clementine screamed. Jacqueline said nothing. "Did you hear me? I'm gonna sue your ass."

  "I heard you. I was just running down my sex, sexual orientation, and ethnicity and wondering how that was going to work out for you."

  "Nelson's a fuckin' liar. He wanted it. This is bullshit. He'll tell you how he wanted it," and she burst out the Conference Room door and towards the elevator.

  Jill looked at Jacqueline. Then, they both headed for the door, but Clementine was already on the elevator. Jacqueline paced as she awaited its return. Jill walked to Mrs. Pennington's desk and dialed a few numbers and Jacqueline heard her say, "Code E on the news floor." Code E had never been used. The employees had not even known what it was, but Jacqueline did. In recent years, the management handbook had been revamped to discuss how to handle a hostage situation or a rogue employee. It was a defined as a Code E.

  Clementine was officially the first Code E. When the elevator returned, Jacqueline entered the car. She did not wait for Jill. She rode down alone. The car wasn't large enough to pace inside. Instead, she cracked her knuckles like a boxer preparing for a bout.

  When the doors opened, there was a sea of employees in the aisle. Like middle school children who smelled an ensuing fight, the staff had crowded the area to overhear Clementine's lambasting of Nelson. He sat in his chair, sweating through his short-sleeved white shirt as she stood over him swearing. The bones on her yellow shirt waggled in his face.

  Jacqueline approached from behind. The crowd parted as she approached leaving her space to navigate toward the sound of Clementine's rant; once she passed a space, the crowd reformed. She was engulfed. In one breath, without pause, she bellowed, "I have had enough." Things went silent. Her words caused the crowd to carve out a semi-circle for her. "Clementine, this is enough. I tried to save you your privacy and you care nothing for it. Therefore, you can leave now and save what's left of your dignity or you can be arrested." Standing nose to nose with her, Jacqueline pointed in her face, she said, "And, I dare you to try me further." Neither woman looked down at Nelson who appeared to be hyperventilating.

  "Nelson, head home for the day," Jacqueline announced with her eyes on Clementine. He nodded, but she hadn’t known it happened. Clementine moved her lips as if she was preparing to talk, to argue, to fight back, but none of that happened. She never uttered a word. Jacqueline stared into her eyes, daring her to reply. But, no words came; instead, Clementine slow-blinked and backed away.

  Without introduction, the guards appeared as she was backing away. The crowds dispersed as a voice said, "Clementine Porter, you're gonna have to come with us. Now." Code E had worked. Clementine had been swarmed. Six security guards with black vests, tasers, batons, and walkie-talkies had arrived. Nelson was being escorted to his vehicle and offsite. Employees were being returned to their desks to gossip for the rest of the afternoon. The non-event event had been de-escalated.

  In less than twenty minutes, the entire ordeal was over. Jacqueline was perched herself on the corner of Nelson's desk when Jill appeared, "First, I think Nelson should get a new desk. Second, you're not supposed to come down here in case of a Code E, John Wayne. Third, you did good today."

  "How'd this happen?" Jacqueline sat exhausted from the non-fight.

  "The world's a crazy place," Jill said and headed back to her desk with Clementine's file under her arm.

  "I had your back the entire time," Alex said from the back corner.

  "Did you now?" Jacqueline turned around to see her and her belly.

  "Yeah, me too," said Paige.

  "Where were you two?" Jacqueline asked.

  "Well, I had to call Elet. I mean, if we got shot, then I needed to be the person who called the outside world."

  "During Code E, I shutdown the machines, remember?" Paige reminded her of protocol.

  "Dammit, I forgot. Gunfire." Jacqueline remembered.

  "Right, we all die if those machines interact with gunpowder," Paige made a fake explosion.

  "Uh, Clementine didn't have a gun," Alex said.

  "It's not like I knew that," Paige said. "Better safe than bits."

  "That one was close to right," Jacqueline said with her forefinger and thumb held millimeters apart.

  "I better go turn the machines back on now that everything's okay," Paige said. She patted Jacqueline on the shoulder and headed to the elevators.

  "Good idea," Jacqueline said.

  "Don't forget what tonight is," Paige said over her shoulder as she returned downstairs.

  "How could I? It's my event," Alex reminded them and waddled away.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  "Good afternoon, Mallory," Ethan said. He removed his jacket as he returned to his office. "Jacqueline stopped by the office and made all of the allocations on Wednesday afternoon."

  "She told me. I just had a few questions," she said.

  "Oh, well, you didn't have to come all the way over here. You can call me anytime."

  "To be honest, I worried you'd be less likely to help me if I called. So, I thought I'd come in person," she said as she crossed her legs.

  Ethan didn't respond. "It's my job to help."

  "I know that. I also know that you were Jacqueline's adviser before you were our adviser, so I'm certain you have a problem with allegiance."

  "Of course not. She's made it very clear t
hat the accounts are all joint."

  "It's not her instruction I doubt. I need to know a few things and I need it to stay between us. Can you help me with that or should I tell her that I'd feel more comfortable with a different finance guy?" Mallory's green eyes peered at him.

  "No, of course not. Confidence is a requirement in my world. Tell me what you're thinking," Ethan leaned back in his chair and awaited whatever came.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Jacqueline was physically and emotionally tired when the elevators doors opened to her floor. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to rehash what had happened downstairs with Clementine, but she knew that Grant and Mrs. Pennington had been waiting.

  "A girl like that should've never worked here," sharp, immediate disavowal by Mrs. Pennington was expected. Jacqueline responded with a nod.

  "Jacqueline, are you okay?" the caretaker in Grant emerged. His hand was over his chest. He stood and dashed to her.

  "I'm fine, Grant."

  "I was so nervous. I didn't know what she'd try. Me and Mrs. P were ready to call the police."

  "She's no real threat. She's big on the element of surprise. I'm fairly sure she's not dangerous."

  "You never can tell with girls like that," Mrs. Pennington announced.

  Jacqueline wondered what girls like that meant, but she was far too tired to speculate or confront her. "It's all over now. We'll mail her stuff to her and never see her again," she said as she entered her office.

  "Good riddance," Mrs. Pennington said as Jacqueline closed the door.

  Inside her quiet den, she closed the blinds. She wanted to sit in her chair, close her eyes, and be still for a few moments; but, Grant entered her quiet space before she could settle.

  "I didn't want to mention this in front of Mrs. P," he said. He was either unaware or indifferent to her emotional state.

  With her eyes closed and her head resting on the back of her desk chair, she said, "What is it, Grant?"

  "Vicki contacted me during…"

  She bolted up. "Vicki? During the meeting? What'd she say?"

  As usual, he was reading his own notes from a pad of paper. "The other bidder could not acquire financing. Our offer is being considered. We should know something by tomorrow."

  Jacqueline rested her arms on her desk. With her head in her hands, she rubbed her face. "Did you talk to her?"

  "Yeah, she called me."

  "How'd she sound?"

  "Excited. She said the sellers had failed with four buyers. The house has been on the market," he stopped to flip pages. "For almost a hundred days. She said that's bad and their agent'll push for a sale. The house is facing foreclosure. They have a new house out of state and can't afford both mortgages."

  "Anything else?"

  "Um," he searched with his fingers through his notes. "Nope. Just expect to hear from hear on Saturday evening or Sunday morning."

  "Thanks, Grant. I appreciate your help."

  "Good luck. It's obvious that this is the one you want."

  "I do want it. I'd sell everything I own to get it."

  Walking out of her office, he muttered, "I don't think you'll have to."

  Jacqueline checked her watch. It would be time soon to pick up Mallory and, then, Zoe. They'd rush home and change clothes before heading to Paige and Brett's house. Her long day was going to be even longer. She thought she'd like to take a nap. Right there. Right then. In the quiet and cool darkness of her office, then the thought of Clementine doing that very thing and she chuckled. Instead of a nap, she rubbed her eyes and got to work.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Home is a concept that differs for everyone. It could be a recreational vehicle; it could be a penthouse condo that overlooks Tampa Bay; it could be a mansion on Harbour Island. It could be a cookie cutter house that rests on a corner inside of a subdivision on a street filled with other cookie cutter houses.

  Paige's home wasn't repulsive. There weren't any strange odors. There weren't any odd designs. It was a box, but a nice enough box. Jacqueline stepped into the tiny foyer as she'd done on prior occasions and looked around at the Americana decorative styling. She wasn't listening to all the voices that filled the room. She hadn't heard the people who'd welcomed her. She was noticing the Little's house for the first time. She was staring at the paint choice. The off gray walls with the single accent wall. She was bouncing on the carpet, checking its thread count. She was examining. She glanced at Brett's tribute to old cars, but, for the first time, she noticed how it meshed with Paige's post-World War II kitchen complete with a metal table and handmade curtains and placemats. Standing there on the vinyl flooring of their foyer, she realized that the box itself wasn't home; home was how the contents represented them and how comfortable the space was.

  Then, she stared at Mallory. She'd had a decorative style before they met; Jacqueline did as well. She wondered how they would coalesce. What would their jumbled world look like? Elet and Alex's designs had congealed to the bold colors and bright patterns in their craftsman style bungalow in Seminole Heights. They'd wandered off and joined the 'it' crowd. But, like most families, Paige and Brett picked a house in a subdivision. On the outside, the house was the same as four of the other houses in eyeshot, but their personality had shone through inside. They'd crafted a tribute to days' past. Jacqueline contemplated what she and Mallory would do. How would their home look?

  "Where are you?" Mallory noticed that Jacqueline was far away.

  "Just thinking," she admitted.

  "You said we weren't gonna talk about the house."

  "I'm not talking."

  "Yeah, I noticed. Everyone noticed. You're standing here. You're looking around holding the bags, but you aren't talking or moving."

  It was true. She was in the foyer still as a statue holding bags of soda. Friends had been talking to her. Paige had offered to take the bags, but Jacqueline hadn't heard her. She was deep in thought. "Sorry, baby."

  "I'm anxious, too," she whispered.

  "I'm not anxious."

  "Then, what's the problem?"

  "I was wondering what our place would look like. We've never decorated together," Jacqueline admitted.

  Mallory put her arms around her. "Don't worry about that. It's gonna be great. We'll go to the store together." Jacqueline didn't say anything. The idea of outfitting an entire house scared her, but she couldn't admit that to Mallory. "But, first, you have to get me that house."

  "We aren't supposed to talk about it," Jacqueline backed out of that conversation.

  "Go put the bags down and find Elet," Mallory pushed her in the direction of the kitchen.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Seasons didn't exist in southwestern Florida. Every night was a good night to be outside. It was either a warm day, a hot day, or a scorcher, but every evening was a night that could be spent outside. Early March wasn't any different. She exited the house into the backyard to find Brett, Elet, and Drew seated in plastic resin chairs. Each wore the official uniform of Florida - t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops. Brett sat in a red resin chair and wore a NASCAR-related shirt and its matching hat. The bill had been curved from years of manipulation. Across from him sat Elet in a faded black t-shirt and jean shorts that had once been jeans. In an outfit that appeared selected for the occasion, there was Drew in a Bucs t-shirt and khaki shorts.

  "Hi, there," she said. "How's it going?" In garbled words, they spoke at once. "No, grillin' tonight, Brett?"

  "No, Paige said this was a catered affair. I was willin' though," he seemed upset.

  "So, what are we eating?" she asked.

  "We got trays of food," Elet pointed.

  "You're so fancy, now," she teased.

  "You go to a pastry shop for breakfast, but I'm fancy," he teased back.

  "Anyone else comin'?" she asked.

  "Nope, just us. We aren't mixing friends and family. So, no Reese and no Jo tonight." Elet said as he drank the last of his beer.

  "That's so weird. I forget
they're family," Drew said. "I've gotten so used to seeing them everywhere."

  Passing Jacqueline a beer, Elet continued, "Trust me, they're family. They're okay to hang out with sometimes, but there are times when you know they're family. Reese drives me crazy. He's the younger brother who thinks he knows better than me on everything."

  "Middle kid syndrome," Drew said.

  "Is he even the middle? There's four kids," Elet responded with his four fingers outstretched.

  "Nah, it's just from hanging out in your shadow. He's got you on one side and Silas on the other. He's spent his whole life looking for space for himself," Jacqueline tried to help.

  "It gets old, man," Elet swigged more beer. Looking as though he's overcome with a revelation, he motioned for everyone to lean forward. "Jo put Dom out."

  "What?" Jacqueline was startled. "When'd this happen?"

  "The other day. She told him she wasn't in love anymore. She said she hasn't been in love in years and she'd just been going through the motions. She said she's been doing what she thought she was supposed to do. Wife. Mother. Daughter. But, she's too old to just stay married, because it's what's expected," Elet explained.

  "That's insane. He's a good guy," Brett said. "Did he have any idea?"

  "None. He said nothing was wrong. She said she's not cheating. That she doesn't hate him. She's just not happy. It's just not what she wants," Elet shrugged his shoulders.

  "What's Alex say?" Jacqueline asked.

  "Sounds like her family's falling apart," Drew said as he finished what was left in his bottle.

  "Oh, it's all fucked up. Alex told her sister that she supports her. Alex's parents want Alex to talk Jo into making things right with Dom. Alex refuses. I called them and said Alex can't help. I have my hands full keeping her sane." Elet ran his hands across his head. He left a pattern in the strands of blond hairs. "Some days she's a mess. She's upset about her clothes, about her hair, about her weight, about the car, about the world. Some days she's on top of the world. The doctor thought about giving her something for the depression and that freaked her out more. So, we're trying to manage. He told her to have this little party. To share the good news and see if having her friends support would help her," he'd covered his nose and mouth with his hands like he had a secret he dare not let escape. But, the secret was out.