Fallen Elements

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Fallen Elements Page 6

by Heather McVea


  Glancing at her Timex watch, Ryan realized she had a little less than ten minutes until the game started. Kislings Tavern was akin to a dive with its long narrow bar lined with wood paneling. The bar was backed with mirrors obscured by a myriad of liquor bottles and sports banners.

  Kislings had character. It was a locals’ hangout, a great place to watch a game, and had the best buffalo chicken wings Ryan had ever tasted. That plus the cheap beer had made the tavern one of Ryan’s favorite places to be, either on her own, or with friends after a BSSC game.

  “Ryan. Over here.” Greg was sitting at the farthest end of the bar with two Natty Bohs in front of him.

  “Thanks for the beer.” Ryan hopped up on the bar stool next to Greg, and reached for the frothy pint glass.

  “Sorry, what?” Greg smirked and reached for the second glass. “I wasn’t sure what you were drinking.”

  Ryan nudged the man with her shoulder. “Cute. Now give me the beer.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?” Greg teased.

  “I don’t think they serve grain alcohol here.” Ryan jokingly started scanning behind the bar.

  “I take it New York could have gone better?” Greg asked, the humor from earlier replaced with genuine concern.

  Ryan shrugged, and took a drink of her beer. “I went there for a funeral.”

  “Your mother’s funeral.” Greg gently interjected.

  Ryan looked out the side of her eye at her friend. “Your point?”

  Greg leaned back, waving his hands in front of him in mock surrender. “Check. We’re here to watch the hockey game.”

  Ryan grinned. “Thanks, Mathews.”

  Finishing the last of his pint, Greg shrugged. “For what?”

  “Letting me pretend for the next two hours that the last five days didn’t happen.” The lump in Ryan’s throat caused the last of her words to wobble, and she quickly took a drink, hoping to mask her distress.

  Greg gestured for the bartender to bring him two more pints. Glancing at Ryan, Greg raised his voice above the noise of the crowded bar. “And two Jack Daniels shooters.”

  Ryan looked suspiciously at her friend. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “Nope. But if you feel up to it, it’s my treat and I’m happy to help you stumble home.” Greg quickly patted Ryan on the back and took the two pints from the bartender, followed shortly by two shot glasses of Jack Daniels.

  “Cheers.” Greg held the shot of whiskey up ceremoniously.

  Ryan brought the caramel colored liquor to her lips and quickly drank it. The taste of wood with hints of pecan coated her mouth and throat, followed by a slight burn that sent a wave of warmth cascading through Ryan’s chest.

  “Hard core, Myers. You’re not even chasing it.” Greg took a long drink of his beer.

  Ryan slid the empty shot glass back on the bar. “It’s not my first time at the rodeo.” The truth was, she wasn’t much of a drinker. If she had any hope of stringing a coherent sentence together tomorrow at her interview, that was her first and last shot.

  “Another round then?” Greg raised his hand toward the bartender.

  Ryan grabbed his wrist, and pulled his hand down. “Let’s pace ourselves.”

  Greg grinned. He knew as well as any of Ryan’s friends that the woman was a light-weight. “Beer it is.” The man shifted on the stool, and suddenly seemed nervous. “Ah, I thought maybe Nic would come with you.”

  Ryan had to give the man credit, he had managed to go nearly ten minutes without mentioning the unrequited love of his life. “She’s not really a hockey fan.”

  “Oh, sure, but I thought just hanging out might interest her.” Greg picked at a groove on the bar top with his finger.

  Ryan usually steered clear of talking about Nicole with Greg. She didn’t want to be in the middle of a melodrama literally happening in her own house. Today was different though. She was happy for the distraction from her own dramas, and could afford to indulge Greg in his.

  “You know Greg, I love Nicole dearly and I can see the attraction, but she has said repeatedly that she isn’t interested.” Seeing the slump in her friend’s shoulders, and not wanting to start a pity party for two, Ryan went on. “So, what do you want to do about that?”

  Greg fidgeted with his beer glass, his brows furrowed. “I have to be me, and she’ll either get that and like it, or -” He took a drink of beer. “We’ll just be friends.” He nodded firmly to himself, and emptied his pint.

  “That’s the spirit.” Ryan playfully punched Greg in the shoulder.

  “But do you think she might come by today?” Greg looked hopefully at Ryan.

  “Oh, friend.” Ryan squeezed the man’s hand. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “Yeah.” Greg looked down at his empty pint glass.

  Not wanting the conversation to spiral downward any more than it already had, Ryan forced enthusiasm as she waved the bartender over. “Let’s order some wings, and hope for some blood on the ice in today’s game.”

  Greg sighed. “Yep. Love me the violence.”

  Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re the least violent person I know.”

  Greg looked up at one of five televisions that lined the back of the bar. “I’m living vicariously.”

  ***

  It was a little after three when Ryan walked into the house to find Jenny sitting on the sofa watching an episode of The Big Bang Theory. Ryan had forgotten how beautiful she was. Jenny was sitting cross legged on the sofa, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. She was wearing a pair of Levis jeans and a navy blue tight fitting cable knit sweater. Ryan felt a rush of heat to her stomach.

  “Hi.” Ryan closed the door behind her.

  Jenny hopped up, a broad smile having found her perfect lips. “Hi yourself.” She rushed toward Ryan, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

  Ryan’s head spun as the scent of citrus and lavender washed over her, the warmth of Jenny’s body sending sparks of electricity through her. Leaning back, Ryan kissed Jenny and pulled her closer. “Did I forget a date?”

  Jenny stepped back, pulling Ryan toward the sofa. “No. I called and texted you several times, and finally thought I would make a complete pest of myself and just show up.” She glanced up toward the ceiling. “Much to your roommate’s delight, I’m sure.”

  Ryan sat down next to Jenny on the sofa. “Did she immediately bolt upstairs?”

  Jenny laid her head on Ryan’s shoulder. “I did manage to get an abrupt hello out of her first.”

  Ryan winced. “Yeah, the two of you - not so much.”

  Nuzzling closer to Ryan, Jenny’s lips found the side of her neck. “You didn’t return my calls.”

  Goose bumps rose on Ryan’s arms as the heat of Jenny’s breath brushed against the side of her neck. “I must have forgotten to turn the volume back on after I tried to nap.” Ryan leaned into Jenny’s kissing.

  “I missed you.” Reaching up, Jenny turned Ryan’s head toward her, placing a series of light kisses along her jaw, slowly working her way toward Ryan’s mouth.

  “You’re back. Good.” Nicole’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

  The near euphoria Ryan had been experiencing at Jenny’s hands was quickly doused as her roommate unceremoniously walked into the living room, and sat in the recliner next to the sofa.

  Sitting up, Ryan managed to smile at Nicole instead of punching her in the face like she wanted to. “I just got back.”

  “Who won?” Nicole never asked about the outcome of a hockey game. To the best of Ryan’s knowledge, the woman didn’t know a puck from a golf ball.

  “Ah, the Capitals. Two, zero.” Ryan narrowed her eyes as she watched Nicole pick up the television remote.

  “Is anyone watching this?” Before either Ryan or Jenny could answer, Nicole began scrolling through the list of recorded programs.

  Jenny looked at her gold Rolex watch, and then slid to the edge of the couch. “I need to get going anyway.”
She looked annoyed as she glared at Nicole. “It was nice to see you again, Nicole.”

  Without turning her attention away from the television, Nicole feigned a smile. “Pleasure, Jen.”

  Sensing the mood in the room was darkening quickly, Ryan got up from the sofa. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “Did you get the flowers?” Jenny asked as Ryan helped her on with her coat.

  “I did. They’re in my room.” Ryan took Jenny’s hand in hers. “It was a nice surprise after a crappy week.”

  Frowning, Jenny buttoned her black, high collar winter coat. “We can have dinner tomorrow night and talk about it.”

  Ryan nodded. “I’d like that. How’s seven at the Laughing Pint sound?”

  Jenny leaned in and quickly kissed Ryan. “Sounds good.” She looked over Ryan’s shoulder toward the living room. “Sleep over at my place after?”

  Ryan blushed. “Perfect.”

  Ryan closed the door behind Jenny, and turned her attentions back to her meddling roommate. “Could you have been ruder?”

  “Is that a challenge?” Nicole had settled on an episode of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, and had fully reclined in the chair.

  “Why can’t you just get along? God knows I haven’t always been a fan of the men you’ve dated.” Ryan flopped down on the sofa.

  “I don’t trust her.” Nicole paused the program and turned her attention to Ryan.

  “But you’ve never really talked to her to even know that.” Ryan laid her head back on the sofa, exhausted. The early morning, travel, alcohol, and snippy roommate were catching up to her.

  “I can sense these things.” Nicole insisted.

  Ryan wanted so badly to point out how horrific Nicole was at sensing shortcomings in the men she dated, and what made her think she was any more astute once removed?

  “I know I don’t always have the best intuition with the men I date.” Nicole began, and Ryan quickly lifted her head up, wondering if she had inadvertently spoken out loud.

  “Go on.” Ryan cautiously encouraged.

  Nicole scrunched her face up a bit before continuing. “Calm down. This isn’t a Doctor Phil moment. I’m just saying sometimes perspective is best achieved from a distance.”

  Ryan shook her head. “I know exactly who Jenny is.” She stood up and walked toward the stairs. “And for the record, I’m not going to marry her. We have fun together, and -” Ryan stopped before she said too much.

  “And the sex is good.” Nicole offered.

  “I wasn’t going to say that.” Ryan stood with her hand on the banister.

  “Sure. Whatever gets your head on your pillow at night, friend.” Nicole teased.

  “No, really. I was going to say the sex is great.” Before Nicole could counter, Ryan dashed up the stairs, satisfied she had defended her position admirably.

  Chapter 5

  Ryan had spent nearly an hour getting ready for her interview. She was wearing a pair of dark gray boot cut slacks with low, black patent leather heels Jenny had talked her into buying several months ago. She had also bought a slim fit dark purple button up dress shirt, and wore it now as she exited Nicole’s borrowed Subaru. Taking deep breaths to calm her nerves, Ryan walked across the parking lot toward the administration building of Howard County.

  Though the county had several facilities, Ryan was meeting Donnie Hammond, the Senior Community Liaison Director, at the main location in Columbia, Maryland. Howard County was located southwest of Baltimore, and Columbia was between Baltimore and Washington, D.C., making it a commuter community for both metropolitan areas.

  The office complex itself was a non-descript six story building with an expansive lobby area and atrium. Ryan made her way to the third floor, and checked in with a woman in her late thirties who offered Ryan a cup of coffee. Anxious her nerves would get the better of her and cause a spill, she politely declined.

  “Ryan Myers?” A wiry man in his late fifties stood in front of Ryan. He was over six feet tall, wearing a pair of black slacks and a light blue dress shirt.

  Ryan stood up, and extended her hand. “Mr. Hammond?”

  The gray hair man smiled warmly. “Donnie, please. May I call you Ryan?”

  The man had managed with his casual manner to put Ryan at ease immediately. “Of course.” Ryan smiled.

  “I’ve booked us a conference room. If you’ll follow me.” Donnie led Ryan down a series of halls, past several offices and cubicles into a small conference room that overlooked the parking lot.

  “Would you like some water?” Donnie had bent down, and was retrieving himself a bottle of water from the small fridge under a side bureau.

  “That would be great. Thank you.” Ryan laid her pea coat across the back of one of the high-back leather chairs, and sat her black, leather portfolio on the lacquer finished maple table.

  Donnie handed Ryan the water, and sat in the chair across the narrow table from her. “I thought we might start by having me tell you a little about myself, and then we can talk about the position and your education and work history. Does that sound good?” The man took a sip of water.

  This was Ryan’s fourth interview since beginning her job hunt several months ago, and though Donnie’s predecessors had all been professional and courteous, it had always fallen to her to ask probing questions regarding their backgrounds and the positions they were offering. It was refreshing to meet someone willing to volunteer information as opposed to having it pulled out of them.

  “That sounds perfect.” Ryan retrieved a legal pad of paper and a ballpoint pen from her portfolio so she could take notes.

  For the next ten minutes, Donnie spoke about his career in public policy and social work. He spent several minutes performing what Ryan thought sounded like a sales’ pitch about Howard County and the numerous services it offered its residents.

  “And that’s me in a nutshell. Plus or minus a few sordid details.” Donnie chuckled at his own joke, and Ryan found the nerd-like quality endearing. “So, I’ve read through your resume, and I must confess I popped online and read your dissertation.”

  “Dealing with a bout of insomnia?” Ryan joked, her and Donnie chuckling in unison.

  “Not at all. Your assessment on the necessity to address, even at a local level, the role of globalization in social policy, and the interplay between governments and private sector - is exactly the kind of thinking we’re looking for.”

  Seeing the opportunity to bring the conversation around to her primary reason for being there, Ryan cleared her throat. “I do have some questions about the Community Liaison position.”

  Donnie reached for the bottle of water. “Absolutely. Shoot.”

  Ryan went through several of her prepared questions, pleased with Donnie’s thorough answers. She had several follow-up questions for him specific to his group; otherwise, the job was exactly what Ryan was looking for.

  “To be frank, Donnie, this position - more specifically your organization, is exactly what I’ve imagined for myself. The opportunity to assist with policy formulation and planning, coordinating with external partners and agencies to ensure resources are routed to where they are needed most...” Ryan smiled. “It’s what I’ve spent the past seven years preparing for.”

  Donnie grinned and nodded. “I’ve been very pleased with our conversation today too. I have three more candidates I’m considering, and may opt to send two of my preferred folks over to my boss, Cindy Tylor for second interviews next week.” He twisted the cap back on the now empty bottle of water.

  Sensing the interview was drawing to a close, Ryan slid her notepad and pen back into her portfolio. “Next week sounds perfect.” Standing, Ryan extended her hand. “I appreciate your time.”

  Taking Ryan’s hand, Donnie smiled broadly. “It was a pleasure.” He stepped toward the door. “Let me show you the way back to reception. It can be a bit of a maze until you get your bearings.” He opened the door. “I won’t tell you how many times I got turned around after
we moved to this building.”

  Ryan laughed, relieved the interview was over, and feeling she had put in a good showing. “Thank you.”

  She followed Donnie back to the reception area where they said their goodbyes. Walking back through the main lobby area, Ryan spotted a Starbucks kiosk. She couldn’t care less about stains post-interview, so she decided to get a cup of tea.

  Ryan placed her order, and was waiting to get her tall Earl Grey tea when she took a double take at the blonde woman who had just stepped into the register line less than three feet from her.

  Leah was on her phone, a large brown folder tucked under her arm. Ryan’s eyes wandered in admiration of the woman who was dressed in a form fitting hunter green knee-length dress with long sleeves, and dark brown patent leather heels. She was stunning.

  “Miss? Your drink.” The barista held out the signature white cup with the green siren scrawled across it toward a perplexed Ryan. The woman was in her early thirties with straight, shoulder length blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Jeanne was scrawled across the small, black name tag that hung from her green apron.

  “Sorry?” Ryan suddenly felt feverish, and wasn’t sure what the woman was saying.

  “Your Earl Grey.” The woman managed a smile though she was clearly annoyed with Ryan.

  “Oh, thank you.” Ryan, embarrassed, quickly took the drink and stepped toward the condiment bar. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as Leah hung up her phone and greeted the barista.

  God, she’s got a great smile. Stop staring.

  “Ryan?” Leah was suddenly standing next to her, and Ryan thought her heart might pound out of her chest.

  For Christ’s sake, what’s wrong with me?

  “Leah. Hey.” Ryan turned to face the blonde and caught the top of her cup with her hand. “Shit!” Grabbing for the cup, the mortified woman spilled the piping hot tea across her right hand, the skin immediately reddening.

  “Are you okay?” Leah took Ryan’s hand in hers, and where the woman’s touch generally sent a shock of heat through Ryan’s body, it was now cool and incredibly soothing on her irritated skin.

 

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