by Amanda Uhl
Five seconds later it rang again. I ignored it. Time to go. I grabbed the cardboard box and practically ran toward the elevator. By the time I made it to the lobby, George was waiting for me.
“Here, let me take that.”
He pulled the cardboard box from my hands, and we walked through the doors and out into the crisp September air. The parking lot was nearly empty. That’s how I spotted Nick. Thank God his owner was still inside the building. George hadn’t bothered to find a parking spot. He was parked right out front, blinkers flashing.
I didn’t waste any time getting into his car. Before I knew it, we were driving to… “George, where are we going?”
George grimaced. “The shop. Sorry, but the grand opening’s Saturday. I’ve gotta make sure all the shelves are fully stocked.”
Thinking of the shop took me out of my own misery for a moment. “Oh God, George, I’m so sorry. I forgot totally about the grand opening. I’m the last thing you need to be worried about right now. I can’t believe you even want to go to the Reynolds’s shindig knowing the opening’s the next day.”
“That’s exactly why I want to go. I don’t care what Ma says, Bernie should be at the grand opening. She helped us come up with the extra financing we needed, and it was her idea for the name, remember?”
How could I forget? Back then things had seemed so much simpler.
George glanced at me for a second and looked back at the road. “You are going to come with me tomorrow night, right? And to the opening of Spice Boys on Saturday? I mean, you had a lot to do with the store, too.”
“Oh God, George. I don’t think… I mean I’ll come to the store opening. Of course, I’ll come to that. I wouldn’t miss it. And I’ll do whatever I can to persuade Bernie to be there, too…although…”
“What?”
“She’s seeing someone, George. You were right about that. I don’t understand it, and I told her so. She has feelings for you. She admitted it to me. But she thinks you don’t love her. That you’ll always put your mother before her.”
George’s hands on the steering wheel were white. “Did you tell her I’ve moved out?”
“No, I…didn’t get a chance to.”
“You’re kidding me. You were supposed to tell her that. I want her to know I’ve changed. She’ll be more likely to listen to me tomorrow night.”
“I’m sorry… I was…a bit distracted.”
“With Charlie,” George said, his voice dry. “I don’t know why it took me so long to figure that out. That’s what’s got you all torn up inside. Does Charlie have feelings for you?”
“No,” I said more sharply than I’d intended. “I mean, he says he does, but that’s… I don’t know. He’s with Clarissa. Bernie saw them with their arms around one another, slow-dancing and uh…kissing.” Just saying the words had me trembling. I held my hands together in my lap to keep them from shaking.
George pulled into the parking lot and put the car in park. He turned to me. “There’s probably more to it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. Did George know something I didn’t? My pulse raced.
“I don’t know.” George scratched his chin. “Seems odd to me a guy like Charlie would play with your feelings. I mean, he has to have his pick of the ladies. Why spend time with someone who has a boyfriend?”
My heart sank. Why, indeed. “Because he’s a player, George. Don’t be naïve. A guy like Charlie’s used to having women chase him. He gets some kind of”—my voice broke, and I struggled to take in air—“sick thrill pursuing woman who challenge him. That’d be me.”
George reached out and patted my arm awkwardly. “I’m real sorry, Val. You want me to try to talk to him?”
“No,” I said, grabbing George’s arm. “That’s the worst thing you can do. I have my pride. I won’t be his plaything. He can…” A bubble rose in my throat and I gulped to keep it down. “He can have Clar…issa.” The words stuck to the roof of my mouth like glue.
For a moment, I thought George would argue. But he reached across my seat and opened the door. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside. How about a cup of coffee and a slice of banana cake.”
My mouth watered. George made the best banana cake. “Okay,” I said, sounding like a lost little girl.
George must have thought so, too, because he hesitated and gave me a warm smile. “It’ll be okay after you’ve had a taste of banana cake. I promise. Now, scoot.”
I dutifully got out of the car and followed him into the shop.
Spice Boys had gone through a major transformation since I’d last been in the store. The shelves were filled from top to bottom with what seemed like a gazillion spices. I picked up the nearest bottle. The label read “7-Spice Mixture.” To one side, there were bins of nuts with scoops and what looked to be ground coffee. Behind the counter were rows and rows of cookies and cream-filled cakes and…banana cake. My favorite.
“Grab a seat,” George said, gesturing to the bar stools in front of the counter.
I pulled a chair out and did as he asked. George set a giant piece of cake, a fork and napkin, and a cup of his rich black coffee in front of me. The smell of ripe bananas and coffee beans rose up like a protective spirit, surrounding me. In times of stress, food was always a great comforter.
“This is so much better than Cheetos.” I mumbled the words around a bite of heavenly banana cake.
George didn’t disguise his look of satisfaction. “Good,” he said. “You eat while I check out my inventory.”
Eating was not a difficult task for me. By the time my fork scraped the bottom of my plate, I did feel better.
George was counting containers of hummus he had stacked in a refrigerator case. I found myself counting with him. “Fifty-two,” I said.
“Huh?” George glanced up, his eyes inquisitive, and for a brief moment my loyal puppy dog had returned. I felt a rush of affection. George was one of the kindest, most nurturing human beings I knew.
“There are fifty-two containers,” I said with a smirk.
“Is that so?” George asked and grinned, leaning on the counter. He shook his head playfully. “Hotshot. I forgot how fast you are with numbers.” He picked up the pen and wrote fifty-two in his blue notebook.
Despite the emotion of the day and my aching heart, I smiled. Some things in life were dependable, I decided. And George and his blue notebook were two of them. “George?” I asked.
George glanced up and set down his pen, waiting for me to voice whatever was on my mind.
“I’m sorry for everything that’s happened between us. I want you to be happy.” I paused, filled my lungs, and breathed slowly through my nostrils. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you win over Bernie.”
“You mean you’ll come with me Friday night?” George asked, his tone eager.
I could do this. For George. Face Charlie with Clarissa. Couldn’t I? I nodded. “Yeah, sure. I will. I’ll come with you.”
George smiled. “You’re the best. Thanks, Val. How about a spinach pie? You want me to heat it up?”
I smiled back. “That sounds lovely.”
Chapter Thirty-five
By the time George dropped me at my car, I suspected I’d gained five pounds. I had long since dried my eyes and, while not exactly chipper, I no longer had the urge to devour a bag of Cheetos.
George and I had agreed to meet in the Reynolds parking lot the next day at 5:30 p.m., so we could arrive at the Q Hall together and corner Bernie. Our plan called for me to distract Jim, if necessary, so George could talk to Bernie alone. Once George convinced Bernie he was the only man for her, I could leave. Simple and quick like I liked.
I should have suspected any plan I set in motion was doomed to failure. I did not have a good track record. My alter ego sounded a warning the next morning. She suggested I skip both work and the celebration afterward in favor of staying in my warm bed. Why didn’t I listen? It was so unlike her.
The gray skies and the sound of rain on my bedr
oom window were my second clue. Both the sound and the color matched my mood perfectly. I thought about calling in sick. But it dawned on me it was the worst thing to do. If I stayed home doing nothing, I would drive myself crazy thinking about my situation. So I pulled my sorry self out of bed and into a hot shower and arrived at the office looking, if not halfway decent, at least better than I looked at the end of the day yesterday. I expected to encounter Charlie, but our paths didn’t cross, and my desk and cell phone remained eerily silent. I had not expected him to give up so easily and couldn’t prevent a pang of disappointment, although I tried to pretend I felt nothing.
So much for “let’s start over,” I thought as I dropped yet another round of sales figures on Julie’s desk. Not that I wanted to start over, I reminded myself. I didn’t. Not with Clarissa in the picture. I was going to look for another job as soon as I hooked George up with Bernie.
Julie was her usual pain-in-the-butt self. “This is not what I asked for,” she said, glaring at me from under a pair of silver reading glasses. I was sure she wore those glasses for appearance and not practical purposes. They made her eyes even more cat-like than usual. “You were supposed to bring me the full year’s report, not just the month of August.”
“Oh gosh. Sorry. I’ve been a bit…distracted.”
Julie took off her glasses and set them in front of her where she was sitting at her shiny brown desk. “Does your distraction have anything to do with a certain couple?”
“Uh…no. Of…of course not.”
“Hmpfh. If you say so.” She crossed her hands over her chest and frowned, shaking her head back and forth slowly. “I see the way you look at him, you know. With those tortured gray eyes like you could gobble him up. I tried to warn you, remember? I told you he was out of your league. But you wouldn’t listen. Now, I’m going to give you another piece of advice.”
“Oh, Julie, that’s… That’s okay,” I said, turning to leave. “I’m fine. I don’t need…”
“Keep quiet and listen. My father’s been friends with Charlie’s father for as long as I can remember. I have it on good authority Charlie’s purchased a ring. I suspect he’s planning to propose to Clarissa tonight. The timing would be perfect. For God’s sake, grab a chair before you keel over.”
I did as she suggested, pulling out a chair and sinking into it. Julie’s a troublemaker, I reminded myself. She’s trying to throw me off-kilter. She can’t know Charlie’s plans. He’d said he wanted to start over. A man who was planning to propose wouldn’t be telling another woman he wanted another chance, would he? He was a flirt. He got some kind of thrill making women swoon. His angels. Not that any of it mattered. I was outta here tomorrow.
“You probably won’t believe me, but I’m not telling you this to destroy the little fantasies you have built up in your head. I don’t want to see such a wonderful man hitched to an ice cube like Clarissa myself. But for your own good and the sake of Reynolds, you need to let your fantasies about Charlie go and focus on your job. Now get me the numbers I need as quickly as you can. Charlie and I are meeting in”—she checked her computer—“five minutes to go over the latest figures, and I won’t be made to look incompetent. Go.”
Julie raised one paw, her nails tilted down, and shooed me out of her office with a flap of her wrist. I didn’t waste any time leaving.
What did I care what Julie believed? I would be out the door after tonight. The reminder carried me to my cubicle. “She can get her own damn numbers,” I muttered, kicking the file cabinet in the process and gasping at the stab of pain shooting through my ankle. “Dammit.”
I hopped on one foot and grabbed the back of my desk chair until the pain wore off.
“You’re either in training for a sack race or something’s upset you.”
I stopped hopping and turned around to face Charlie. He stood there looking elegant in a light gray shirt, his long legs encased in a pair of dark gray trousers, and an amused smile on his face. A thin black belt encircled his waist. I tried hard not to notice his blond masculinity, but it was impossible. He had one hand on his hip and the other in his pocket. The man had the most irritating knack of catching me at my most vulnerable. “You need something?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice professional with a touch of ill-concealed belligerence.
Charlie raised one eyebrow, and I found myself reduced to a blush.
“Yes. I want to talk to you.”
“I thought you were meeting with Julie now?”
He sighed. “I am. I’ll come and get you afterward. I’ll give you a lift to the party.”
I frowned. What was Charlie trying to prove? That I was jealous of Clarissa? Was this a sick way of feeding his ego? No way was I riding to the party with Charlie and Clarissa. “I can’t. Sorry.”
Charlie took a step into my cubicle. I struggled to draw breath. Do not let his height intimidate you, I reminded myself, straightening my shoulders. Why hadn’t I worn heels?
“Can’t or won’t?” he asked. His blue eyes glinted with some unnamed emotion. Anger?
“Both,” I said, making my voice firm. “I won’t go to the party with you. We aren’t dating any longer, remember? Plus, I can’t go to the party with you. I’ve already made a commitment with someone else.”
Another step and Charlie loomed over me. “Who?”
“Who is none of your business.”
Charlie’s nostrils flared. So it was anger. “Val, I can’t believe you’re back with George. You’re making a big mistake. Can’t you see it? He’s not right for you. Don’t be foolish!”
“Oh, so now you’re calling me a fool? I’m only going to the party with George, I’m not pro…proposing.” Oh my God, I wouldn’t cry.
“Val, God, I’m making a mess of things. I’m sorry. It’s… You can’t… I won’t let you… I mean, I don’t believe you love George. You’re hurt and rightly so. I made a mistake. Let my foolish pride get in the way. It’s my fault.”
“You’ve got that right. I don’t need your advice for my love life.” I stamped my foot in the same spot, gasping at the renewed pain.
“Val, look at me.”
I turned my back to Charlie, flicked the mouse on my laptop, opened the spreadsheet, and pressed control P for print. “Go away.”
“Val, please. We have to talk about this.”
I grabbed the papers from the printer and brushed by him. “No. We don’t.”
I made it to Julie’s office and handed her the correct report. Charlie was right on my heels.
Julie eyed Charlie with some alarm, rising from her seat. “Val just gave me the report. I haven’t had time to thoroughly look it over.”
Charlie glanced at Julie, his expression exasperated. He seemed to realize in the nick of time where he was and his purpose. I used his confusion to my advantage.
“Sales are up in all of our markets,” I said, looking at Julie.” You’ll see I’m recommending we increase production in the southeast territory by 500,000 units. I need to run a few more comparison reports but it appears we are far outpacing sales from last quarter. Our friendly paint is a cash cow.”
Julie nodded, dismissing me. “Good job, Valerie. Go ahead and run the reports. I’m sure Charlie will want to see them.”
I turned to go as Charlie recovered, looking at me with slanted eyes, every inch the CEO of a billion-dollar company. “Val, we aren’t done with our earlier conversation. As soon as you finish the reports, I want to see you in my office. You’d better let George know you’ll be running a few minutes late.”
Charlie turned to Julie, not giving me a chance to respond, unless I wanted to make a scene, which I didn’t. I had the incredible urge to slam the office door behind me. But, with my luck, it would bounce back and hit me in the nose. My foot still stung where I’d kicked my desk earlier. I closed the door with a quick and decisive click.
I beat a rapid pace to my cube. No way in hell would I stick around to be berated by Charlie for hanging out with George. Not from a
man who was planning to hitch himself to an…ice princess. He had some nerve.
I checked my laptop. It was well past five. Time to shut down and meet George. But first, I must print the reports Julie requested. I hurried to the printer, gathered up the paper, and handed it to Julie’s assistant, Agnes, telling her I didn’t want to interrupt the closed-door meeting going on. Agnes gave me a strange look but didn’t argue. I’m sure she wondered why—a closed door had never stopped me before.
I took a final look around my cubicle. I would not be back. My eyes swept the corners for any personal effects I had missed the night before. Finding none, I hitched my purse over my right shoulder and cut a rapid pace toward the elevators. They would be faster than the stairs. Any minute Charlie would be opening the door to Julie’s office. I did not want to be in his path when he did.
Bing. The elevator stopped on the bottom floor. I stepped out and made my way to the exit. A tall woman in a green dress and brown calfskin boots was entering. Clarissa. She smoothed her sleek blond hair back behind her ear with one long, slim hand. “You,” she said, as if surprised to find me at the company where I worked. “Will you be at the party tonight?”
I nodded, afraid to trust myself to speak.
“Well, that makes sense. I guess everyone will be there. Charlie thought it would be a good opportunity for me to meet the staff. I mean, seeing that I’ll be…”
The elevator doors opened, and Charlie stepped out. “Oh good, we’re all here,” he said smoothly, interrupting the conversation by grasping my hand and tugging me forward as if I were a recalcitrant child.
“Wait, no, Charlie. I can’t ride over with you. George is coming to get me.”
“Yes, so you said.” He gave me a tight smile, his expression hard to read. “We need to talk.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Charlie cut me off.
“Don’t worry. I called George and told him I would make sure you got to the Q Hall. He understood. Told me to tell you he’d meet you in the parking lot. You’re all set. You can ride over with me and still walk in with your boyfriend.”