Hard to Handle

by Diana Palmer

  He left her and went back downstairs. He was restless, angry at his attack of impotence with the one woman who was capable of curing it. Or, at least, he imagined she was. He and Kirry had never been lovers, although they’d come close at one time. Now, she was a pleasant companion from time to time, a bauble to show off, to take around town. It infuriated him that he could be whole with Jodie, who was almost certainly a virgin, and he couldn’t even function with a sophisticated woman like Kirry. Maybe it was his age.

  The rattle of plates caught his attention. He moved toward the sound and found a distressed Margie in the kitchen trying to put dishes in the dishwasher.

  “That doesn’t look right,” he commented with a frown when he noticed the lack of conformity in the way she was tossing plates and bowls and cups and crystal all together. “You’ll break the crystal.”

  She glared at him. “Well, what do I know about washing dishes?” she exclaimed. “That’s why we have Jessie!”

  He cocked his head. “You’re out of sorts.”

  She pushed back her red-tinged dark hair angrily. “Yes, I’m out of sorts! Kirry said she doesn’t think I’m ready to show my collection yet. She said her store had shows booked for the rest of the year, and she couldn’t help me!”

  “All that buttering up and dragging Jodie down here to work, for nothing,” he said sarcastically.

  “Where is Jodie?” she demanded. “I haven’t seen her for two hours, and here’s all this work that isn’t getting done except by me!”

  He leaned back against the half open door and stared at his sister. “She’s passed out on her bed, dead drunk,” he said distastefully. “After trying to seduce the world’s number one race car driver, and then me.”

  Margie stood up and stared back. “You?”

  “I wish I could impress on you how tired I am of finding Jodie underfoot every time I walk into my own house,” he said coldly. “We can’t have a party without her, we can’t have a holiday without her. My own birthday means an invitation! Why can’t you just hire a cook when you need one instead of landing me with your erstwhile best friend?”

  “I thought you liked Jodie, a little,” Margie stammered.

  “She’s blue collar, Margie,” he persisted, still smarting under his loss of control and furious that Jodie was responsible for it. “She’ll never fit in our circles, no matter how much you try to force her into them. She was telling people tonight that she was the cook, and it’s not far wrong. She’s a social disaster with legs. She knows nothing about our sort of lifestyle, she can’t carry on a decent conversation and she dresses like a homeless person. It’s an embarrassment to have her here!”

  Margie sighed miserably. “I hope you haven’t said things like that to her, Lex,” she worried. “She may not be an upper class sort of person, but she’s sweet and kind, and she doesn’t gossip. She’s the only real friend I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve behaved much like one,” she added sadly.

  “You should have friends in your own class,” he said coldly. “I don’t want Jodie invited down here again,” he added firmly, holding up a hand when Margie tried to speak. “I mean it. You find some excuse, but you keep her away from here. I’m not going to be stalked by your bag lady of a friend. I don’t want her underfoot at any more holidays, and God forbid, at my birthday party! If you want to see her, drive to Houston, fly to Houston, stay in Houston! But don’t bring her here anymore.”

  “Did she really try to seduce you?” Margie wondered aloud.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said flatly. “It was embarrassing.”

  “She’ll probably be horrified when she wakes up and remembers what happened. Whatever did,” Margie added, fishing.

  “I’ll be horrified for months myself. Kirry is my steady girl,” he added deliberately. “I’m not hitting on some other woman behind her back, and Jodie should have known it. Not that it seemed to matter to her, about me or the married racer.”

  “She’s never had a drink, as far as I know,” Margie ventured gently. “She’s not like our mother, Lex.”

  His face closed up. Jodie’s behavior had aroused painful memories of his mother, who drank often, and to excess. She was a constant embarrassment anytime people came to the house, and she delighted in embarrassing her son any way possible. Jodie’s unmanageable silliness brought back nightmares.

  “There’s nothing in the world more disgusting than a drunk woman,” he said aloud. “Nothing that makes me sicker to my stomach.”

  Margie closed the dishwasher and started it. There was a terrible cracking sound. The crystal! She winced. “I don’t care what’s broken. I’m not a cook. I can’t wash dishes. I’m a dress designer!”

  “Hire help for Jessie,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said, giving in. “I won’t invite Jodie back again. But how do I tell her, Lex? She’s never going to understand. And it will hurt her.”

  He knew that. He couldn’t bear to know it. His face hardened. “Just keep her away from me. I don’t care how.”

  “I’ll think of something,” Margie said weakly.

  Outside in the hall, a white-faced Jodie was stealthily making her way back to the staircase. She’d come down belatedly to do the dishes, still tingling hours after Alexander’s feverish lovemaking. She’d been floating, delirious with hope that he might have started to see her in a different light. And then she’d heard what he said. She’d heard every single word. She disgusted him. She was such a social disaster, in fact, that he never wanted her to come to the house again. She’d embarrassed him and made a fool of herself.

  He was right. She’d behaved stupidly, and now she was going to pay for it by being an outcast. The only family she had no longer wanted her.

  She went back to her room, closed the door quietly, and picked up the telephone. She changed her airplane ticket for an early-morning flight.

  The next morning, she went to Margie’s room at daybreak. She hadn’t slept a wink. She’d packed and changed her clothes, and now she was ready to go.

  “Will you drive me to the airport?” she asked her sleepy friend. “Or do you want me to ask Johnny?”

  Margie sat up, blinking. Then she remembered Lex’s odd comments and her own shame at how she’d treated her best friend. She flushed.

  “I’ll drive you,” Margie said at once. “But don’t you want to wait until after breakfast?” She flushed again, remembering that Jodie would have had to cook it.

  “I’m not hungry. There’s leftover sausage and bacon in the fridge, along with some biscuits. You can just heat them up. Alexander can cook eggs to go with them,” she added, almost choking on his name.

  Margie felt guilty. “You’re upset,” she ventured.

  Keeping quiet was the hardest thing Jodie had ever done. “I got drunk last night and did some…really stupid things,” she summarized. “I’d just like to go home, Margie. Okay?”

  Margie tried not to let her relief show. Jodie was leaving without a fuss. Lex would be pleased, and she’d be off the hook. She smiled. “Okay. I’ll just get dressed, and then we’ll go!”

  4

  If running away seemed the right thing to do, actually doing it became complicated the minute Jodie went down the staircase with her suitcase.

  The last thing she’d expected was to find the cause of her flight standing in the hall watching her. She ground her teeth together to keep from speaking.

  Alexander was leaning against the banister, and he looked both uncomfortable and concerned when he saw Jodie’s pale complexion and swollen eyelids.

  He stood upright, scowling. “I’m driving Kirry back to Houston this afternoon,” he said at once, noting Jodie’s suitcase. “You can ride with us.”

  Jodie forced a quiet smile. Her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “Thanks for the offer, Alexander, but I have an airplane ticket.”

  “Then I’ll drive you to the airport,” he added quietly.

  Her face tightened. She swallowed down her hurt. “Thank
s, but Margie’s already dressed and ready to go. And we have some things to talk about on the way,” she added before he could offer again.

  He watched her uneasily. Jodie was acting like a fugitive evading the police. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, or let him near her. He’d had all night to regret his behavior, and he was still blaming her for it. He’d overreacted. He knew she’d had a crush on him at one time. He’d hurt her with his cold rejection. She’d been drinking. It hadn’t been her fault, but he’d blamed her for the whole fiasco. He felt guilty because of the way she looked.

  Before he could say anything else, Margie came bouncing down the steps. “Okay, I’m ready! Let’s go,” she told Jodie.

  “I’m right behind you. So long, Alexander,” she told him without looking up past his top shirt button.

  He didn’t reply. He stood watching until the front door closed behind her. He still didn’t understand his own conflicting emotions. He’d hoped to have some time alone with Jodie while he explored this suddenly changed relationship between them. But she was clearly embarrassed about her behavior the night before, and she was running scared. Probably letting her go was the best way to handle it. After a few days, he’d go to see her at the office and smooth things over. He couldn’t bear having her look that way and knowing he was responsible for it. Regardless of his burst of bad temper, he cared about Jodie. He didn’t want her to be hurt.

  “You look very pale, Jodie,” Margie commented when she walked her best friend to the security checkpoint. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m embarrassed about how I acted last night, that’s all,” she assured her best friend. “How did you luck out with Kirry, by the way?”

  “Not too well,” she replied with a sigh. “And I think I broke all the crystal by putting it in the dishwasher.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do that for you,” Jodie apologized.

  “It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault.” Margie looked tormented. “I was going to ask you down to Lex’s birthday party next month…”

  “Margie, I can’t really face Alexander right now, okay?” she interrupted gently, and saw the relief plain on the taller woman’s face. “So I’m going to make myself scarce for a little while.”

  “That might be best,” Margie had to admit.

  Jodie smiled. “Thanks for asking me to the party,” she managed. “I had a good time.”

  That was a lie, and they both knew it.

  “I’ll make all this up to you one day, I promise I will,” Margie said unexpectedly, and hugged Jodie, hard. “I’m not much of a friend, Jodie, but I’m going to change. I am. You’ll see.”

  “I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I wanted to remake you,” Jodie replied, smiling. “I’ll see you around, Margie,” she added enigmatically, and left before Margie could ask what she meant.

  It was a short trip back to Houston. Jodie fought tears all the way. She couldn’t remember anything hurting so much in all her life. Alexander couldn’t bear the sight of her. He didn’t want her around. She made him sick. She…disgusted him.

  Most of her memories of love swirled around Alexander Cobb. She’d daydreamed about him even before she realized her feelings had deepened into love. She treasured unexpected meetings with him, she tingled just from having him smile at her. But all that had been a lie. She was a responsibility he took seriously, like his job. She meant nothing more than that to him. It was a painful realization, and it was going to take time for the hurt to lessen.

  But for the moment it was too painful to bear. She drew the air carrier’s magazine out of its pocket in the back of the seat ahead of her and settled back to read it. By the time she finished, the plane was landing. She walked through the Houston concourse with a new resolution. She was going to forget Alexander. It was time to put away the past and start fresh.

  Alexander was alone in the library when his sister came back from the airport.

  He went out into the hall to meet her. “Did she say anything to you?” he asked at once.

  Surprised by the question, and his faint anxiety, she hesitated. “About what?”

  He glowered down at her. “About why she was leaving abruptly. I know her ticket was for late this afternoon. She must have changed it.”

  “She said she was too embarrassed to face you,” Margie replied.

  “Anything else?” he persisted.

  “Not really.” She felt uneasy herself. “You know Jodie. She’s painfully shy, Lex. She doesn’t drink, ever. I guess whatever happened made her ashamed of herself and uncomfortable around you. She’ll get over it in time.”

  “Do you think so?” he wondered aloud.

  “What are you both doing down here?” Kirry asked petulantly with a yawn. She came down the staircase in a red silk gown and black silk robe and slippers, her long blond hair sweeping around her shoulders. “I feel as if I haven’t even slept. Is breakfast ready?”

  Margie started. “Well, Jessie isn’t here,” she began.

  “Where’s that little cook who was at the party last night?” she asked carelessly. “Why can’t she make breakfast?”

  “Jodie’s not a cook,” Alexander said tersely. “She’s Margie’s best friend.”

  Kirry’s eyebrows arched. “She looked like a lush to me,” Kirry said unkindly. “People like that should never drink. Is she too hung over to cook, then?”

  “She’s gone home,” Margie said, resenting Kirry’s remarks.

  “Then who’s going to make toast and coffee for me?” Kirry demanded. “I have to have breakfast.”

  “I can make toast,” Margie said, turning. She wanted Kirry’s help with her collection, but she disliked the woman intensely.

  “Then I’ll get dressed. Want to come up and do my zip, Lex?” Kirry drawled.

  “No,” he said flatly. “I’ll make coffee.” He went into the kitchen behind Margie.

  Kirry stared after him blankly. He’d never spoken to her in such a way before, and Margie had been positively rude. They shouldn’t drink, either, she was thinking as she went back upstairs to dress. Obviously it was hangovers and bad tempers all around this morning.

  Two weeks later, Jodie sat in on a meeting between Brody and an employee of their information systems section who had been rude and insulting to a fellow worker. It was Brody’s job as Human Resources Generalist to oversee personnel matters, and he was a diplomat. It gave Jodie the chance to see what sort of duties she would be expected to perform if she moved up from Human Resources Generalist to manager.

  “Mr. Koswalski, this is Ms. Clayburn, my administrative assistant. She’s here to take notes,” he added.

  Jodie was surprised, because she thought she was there to learn the job. But she smiled and pulled out her small pad and pen, perching it on her knee.

  “You’ve had a complaint about me, haven’t you?” Koswalski asked with a sigh.

  Brody’s eyebrows arched. “Well, yes…”

  “One of our executives hired a systems specialist with no practical experience in oil exploration,” Koswalski told him. “I was preparing an article for inclusion in our quarterly magazine and the system went down. She was sent to repair it. She saw my article and made some comments about the terms I used, and how unprofessional they sounded. Obviously she didn’t understand the difference between a rigger and a roughneck. When I tried to explain, she accused me of talking down to her and walked out.” He threw up his hands. “Sir, I wasn’t rude, and I wasn’t uncooperative. I was trying to teach her the language of the industry.”

  Brody looked as if he meant to say something, but he glanced at Jodie and cleared his throat instead. “You didn’t call her names, Mr. Koswalski?”

  “No, sir, I did not,” the young man replied courteously. “But she did call me several. Besides that, quite frankly, she had a glazed look in her eyes and a red nose.” His face tautened. “Mr. Vance, I’ve seen too many people who use drugs to mistake signs of drug use. She didn’t repair the system, sh
e made matters worse. I had to call in another specialist to undo her damage. I have his name, and his assignment,” he added, producing a slip of paper, which he handed to Brody. “I’m sorry to make a countercharge of incompetence against another employee, but my integrity is at stake.”

  Brody took the slip of paper and read the name. He looked at the younger man again. “I know this technician. He’s the best we have. He’ll confirm what you just told me?”

  “He will, Mr. Vance.”

  Brody nodded. “I’ll check with him and make some investigation of your charges. You’ll be notified when we have a resolution. Thank you, Mr. Koswalski.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Vance,” the young man replied, standing. “I enjoy my job very much. If I lose it, it should be on merit, not lies.”

  “I quite agree,” Brody replied. “Good day.”

  “Good day.” Koswalski left, very dignified.

  Brody turned to Jodie. “How would you characterize our Mr. Koswalski?”

  “He seems sincere, honest, and hardworking.”

  He nodded. “He’s here on time every morning, never takes longer than he has for lunch, does any task he’s given willingly and without protest, even if it means working late hours.”

  He picked up a file folder. “On the other hand, the systems specialist, a Ms. Burgen, has been late four out of five mornings she’s worked here. She misses work on Mondays every other week. She complains if she’s asked to do overtime, and her work is unsatisfactory.” He looked up. “Your course of action, in my place?”

  “I would fire her,” she said.

  He smiled slowly. “She has an invalid mother and a two-year-old son,” he said surprisingly. “She was fired from her last job. If she loses this one, she faces an uncertain future.”

  She bit her lower lip. It was one thing to condone firing an incompetent employee, but given the woman’s home life the decision was uncomfortable.

  “If you take my place, you’ll be required to make such recommendations. In fact, you’ll be required to make them to me,” he added. “You can’t wear your heart on your sleeve. You work for a business that depends on its income. Incompetent employees will cost us time, money, and possibly even clients. No business can exist that way for long.”