by Dani Collins
“Well, mediate this back to your father. I am a voting partner. Neither of us is in a position to hire key personnel without consulting the other, especially if it’s nepotism.”
“Are we talking about me or your brother?”
She paused, bit her tongue while riding out the hot and cold of impotence. His job was one of the few things Lyle sobered up for. He really needed it.
“It’s only a few weeks, Paige,” Sterling said in a conciliatory tone.
“Then why the big announcement downstairs?”
“That was my mother. It’s easier to let her throw a party than to talk her out of it. And you are the only person I know who doesn’t like free cake.”
Swinging to face him, she opened the buttons on her suit jacket, hot from this confrontation and really wishing it was over. “Tell me the truth. What’s the sudden attraction to working here?”
He checked out her breasts. She totally caught him.
Her heart tripped, then leapt with something like guilt when someone opened the door without knocking. Walter. And Olinda behind him.
Fresh heat flooded her cheeks and she pivoted to grab blindly at the last piece of factory litter, moving it off the back shelf and into the box.
After a brief pause that stank of interrupting something clandestine, Olinda said, “You are here.”
Walter said, “I thought you were taking a tour.”
Sterling came to his feet. “We’re on our way now.”
“I don’t need a tour,” Paige said.
“Yeah, you do,” Sterling said.
“I’m cleaning.”
“You’re almost done.”
Paige slowed down on her restoration of order project.
“Oh, take the tour,” Olinda said. “I haven’t done anything all morning and I have a busy afternoon. The last thing I’m prepared for is an audit. Gawd, Paige, is it really necessary?”
“No,” Walter said.
“Yes,” Sterling said at the same time.
Paige turned to see both men locked in another battle of wills. Oh, joy.
“Change their minds, Walter,” Olinda said. “And Sterling, before I forget. Your mother said to tell you your new position here means you ought to be more visible.”
“More—?” He frowned, perplexed, then sighed and moved to stand next to Paige, leaned his big body way too close to hers as he opened the blinds with a rasping clatter. “Visible like this? Oh, yeah, she sees me now. Hi Mom.” He waved.
Olinda came to stand beside him, waved as well, more earnestly, then said, “I’d better get to work. It’s a payroll week. But you and I have to talk,” she said to Paige. “An audit? Really?”
“With a little therapy and a bottle of ibuprofen, most people survive them.”
Olinda shook her head and left.
Paige glanced at the men, waiting for them to follow Olinda.
“If you want a tour, I’ll do it.” Walter said to her.
She’d rather be dragged naked down Main Street by a forklift.
“It will have to wait. I have a lot to organize—”
“Let me, Dad,” Sterling said. “I need a few more minutes with Paige, to convince her I’m allowed to work here. Can you believe she wants to fire me?”
Walter drew in a deep breath, running his thumbs behind his lapels as he did.
“You talk pretty damned big for such little britches, woman. This is my damned company, it will go to my son, and he has more damned right to be here than you do.” His lapels got a final, authoritative jerk. “If I say he works here, he damned well works here.”
“Okay, good, Dad. She gets the message. I’ll handle it from here.” Sterling pushed his father out the door and closed it.
Paige left her mouth hanging open so he could see the accusation when he turned back. “Mediation? You’re a jedi-master all right.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” Sterling closed one eye in a wince. “I could tell he wasn’t going to back me up the way I wanted him to, but now he will.”
Her mouth opened again of its own accord, but only a, “Ha!” came out.
“Cheer up. You have me on your side—”
“Mmm, yes. I see that.”
“—and he’ll fall into line behind me. It’ll make things easier in the long run. You’ll see.”
Chapter Eight
Paige gave him that dark look he was starting to think of as something special she reserved for him, loaded with resentment and contempt.
Snatching the filled box off the chair, she forced him back a step by pressing it into his hands. “Take this on your way out.”
“Paige.”
The door opened and his mother waved the clean cake knife in her hand toward Paige, where she still stood in front of the window. “People are waiting with questions and concerns, Sterling.”
“Please. I don’t want to keep you,” Paige said to him pleasantly. “Go. We’re done here.”
“You’re coming with me,” he reminded.
His mother’s gaze went from where Paige’s shirt buttons were cut in an open V to emphasize her breasts, down to where it nipped in to fit her waist, and ended with the six-inch slit in the front of her skirt. There was a matching slit at the back, he’d already noted, which guaranteed his mother would be calling the outfit ‘fast’ over dinner tonight.
He liked it.
“Give me a moment to put this knife away and I’ll go with you,” his mother said with forced brightness.
Sterling was not in the mood for a chaperone.
“Good idea, Mom, because I was going to ask Paige about Rosie’s situation. We could discuss how you and your church ladies could help her out.”
“Rosalee Bodnar?” Her tone said, Oh gawd no.
“Could you?” Paige asked. “She’s staying with us because she can’t afford rent. Lost her job. She’s in a real fix.”
His mother’s mouth got so small it almost disappeared. “Well, we have a modest fund. Not much. And there’s the used clothing and household items in the church basement.”
Paige drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk. “I notice no one’s moved into the house behind Dad’s since she was in it last year. Is it available?”
“Oh, no,” his mother said quickly. “I mean, Sterling said it’s in terrible disrepair.”
“That’s too bad. I’ll give her your number, though, if that’s all right?” She looked so sincere.
Sterling cradled his jaw and draped his fingers over his lips, hiding his smile.
His mother’s cheeks went pink. “Fine. I should shop for dinner,” she said with a sharp pivot toward Sterling. “We’ll eat at six thirty. Don’t be late.” She marched away, the knife in her hand reflecting flashes of florescent light.
Paige let out a breath and moved some papers on her desk.
“And you don’t want to work together,” Sterling mocked.
“Pardon?”
“Tag teams in the WWF don’t work this well. I barely got to headlock Mom at all before you body-slammed her.”
“Rosie genuinely needs help.”
“I spoke to her at the hospital when I came to see you and Grady there on Friday. She said she’s going with Grady to Palm Springs.”
Paige didn’t apologize for the lie, only started to pull her chair around to sit, sending him a beleaguered look. “Will you get out of my office, please?”
“We’re off to meet and greet. We can put this away as we go.” He jiggled the box he still held.
“I’m really not up to it.” Her tone was stiff and cool, but there was an underlying thread of emotion.
He thought about what she’d suffered upon arrival. His gut instinct was to go out there with Paige and confront whoever had made that comment, watch her suspend the asshat at the very least, but she obviously preferred to retreat. That bothered him. The heavy corners of her mouth and the drawn tension around her eyes bothered him.
She was hurt.
“Tomorrow maybe,” he said.
“We’ll see.” She jiggled her mouse and made a face at the cord.
He left, disgruntled.
Fuming.
Out on the factory floor, he made a point of advising the foremen that Paige was a partner, there were laws against sexual harassment, and if anything like today’s performance happened again, jobs would be lost.
~ * ~
Hanging up from leaving a voice mail for Britta, Paige went back to sterilizing her father’s office, knocking the dust off the mouse pad, closing the unused day planner, then gathering the various sticky-notes off the frame of her father’s computer monitor.
She should give someone these unidentified phone numbers, she thought. Sterling, maybe, if he was going to be covering sales?
One said ‘Zack’s game— Thursday five p.m.’ He hadn’t played basketball since pulling his Achilles tendon last year. She threw it out along with the faded blue, ‘Your daughter called’ with a July date on it.
Footsteps stopped outside the door and she glanced up.
Olinda again, and she was frowning even more deeply than earlier.
“I thought you were going home for lunch.”
“I’m leaving now. And I just heard downstairs that you sent out an email asking everyone in the office to write out their job descriptions?”
“It’s part of the audit. Did you—”
“Get the list of things you want from me? Yes, but I don’t know when you’ll get them. We don’t have time for job descriptions, Paige.”
Paige drew in a long, subtle breath of gathering patience. This was a new dynamic, she reminded herself. Everyone would need time to adjust.
But despite viewing Olinda as family, this was one time when she couldn’t afford to be a pushover.
“I could use your help on this,” she said, deliberately making it sound like Olinda would be doing her a favor, rather than simply doing her job.
“You’re scaring people.”
“How?” Paige set aside the notes she’d collected.
“They think if you find mistakes, you’ll fire them.”
“Tell them we prefer public canings over termination.” No smile. “Come on, Olinda, you know I’m not here to fire anyone.”
“None of us has accomplished a decent day’s work since your father went into the hospital. We’re all behind and we can’t afford to drop everything for an audit.”
Paige sat back. Being nice wasn’t working. “Look, I’m used to encountering resistance. No one likes audits, but you understand why this is necessary, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t! You’ve worked under me, yet you’re calling into question my procedures, my integrity....”
“This isn’t personal, Olinda,” Paige assured gently. “I’m not checking up on you. I don’t expect to find anything big.”
“You won’t find anything at all. I run a tight ship.” Olinda was flushed, eyes bright.
Paige knew she had to tread carefully, but her conscience forced her to be honest. “Some errors always come to light. It’s to be expected. Everyone makes mistakes now and again.”
She was making one now. Olinda’s shoulders were going back.
“Look, incidental oversights don’t matter,” Paige ran on. “I’m more concerned with the big picture. If the way you’re doing things is solid—and I’m sure it is—then I can be confident the financial statements are a true reflection of the company’s worth. How can we sell Dad’s share until we know the price is right?”
“And once you do sell, you’ll pay me what he owes me?”
“Is that what’s really bending you out of shape? The fact the audit delays the sale?”
“I could really use that money!”
Paige bit back a curse. “Then help move this audit along.”
Olinda folded her arms and scowled. “Fine. I’ll tell everyone to go ahead and write up their job descriptions after all.”
“You—” Paige held her tongue. She had what she wanted. That was enough for the moment. “Thanks,” she forced herself to say.
Olinda nodded and Paige expected her to leave, but she hovered.
“Something else?”
“I’m wondering about Rosie. You said she was trying to make a claim on the house?”
“Right. Um... I may have found a way out of that.” Paige licked her lips. She had hoped not to have to admit this to Olinda but, “She’s going to Palm Springs. With Dad. Remember he went there that other time to recover? Because it’s right around the corner from that clinic where Anthony’s aunt works? Anyway, Rosie has a cousin there and thinks she can get a job. It seemed a good way to get her out of the house—”
“He’s taking her to Palm Springs.” Olinda grew tall with resentment. “Taking his little trophy girlfriend who he can’t even have sex with because it’s liable to kill him. She’s younger than you are, Paige. It’s criminal. Did I ever get a vacation out of that man? How many times did I ask you if I could use the condo in Palm Springs? Why does he get to use it with her, and I never did even once?”
“Would you rather she stayed here at the house and acted like she owned it?”
“No,” Olinda grumbled.
“There you go.”
Paige’s phone rang, prompting Olinda to leave in a huff.
Paige let out a breath and picked up the receiver, grateful for the interruption, but still annoyed as she said, “Paige Fogarty.”
“Hey.” Britta’s voice had her sagging back into her chair.
“Hey yourself.”
“I thought your message to call you at this number was a joke. What are you doing there?”
“Your Dad didn’t tell you? I had him draw up the paperwork so I could take over from mine. I have a new job.”
“The hilarity continues. Does this have anything to do with my news?”
“No.” Not directly anyway. “But you want to get together after work to talk?”
“Sure. But, um, at The Mill?”
Paige frowned. They never met there. “For dinner? I guess.”
“‘kay. See you then.”
Chapter Nine
Paige thought she saw Britta’s car, but couldn’t find her inside. She sat at a table in Lumberjack’s, the café of the Liebe Falls Hotel, for ten minutes before she was tipped off by a waitress that Britta was in the bar.
Pushing through the swing-back doors, she walked down the hall, past the washrooms, into the subtly-lit interior of The Mill, pleasantly surprised by the way the family who owned the business had refurbished since she’d last been in here to pick up her Dad. Chipped mirrors had been replaced with ones that had frost-tipped edges. The stained carpet had been torn up and the original hardwood restored. It didn’t even smell the same, which was a small pity because the stale, cloying scent had been a nostalgia trigger for her.
Skimming the faces in the booths, she wound up nodding more greetings than she would have expected, seeing the receptionist from the factory, one of her brother’s longtime friends and an acquaintance from high school who stopped her.
“I heard you and Sterling are taking over the factory?”
“No, he’s only— I’m not—” Paige could hardly speak in the face of such fervent snooping. “We’re not doing anything together. Oh, there’s Britta. ‘scuse me.” Paige made a beeline for her friend. “Good grief, that was horrible.”
“What was?” Britta lifted her face, her smile uncertain. She was wearing a snug emerald-colored sweater that did amazing things to her skin tone and emphasized the green eyes she’d inherited from her father.
“I was just stopped by—never mind. Doesn’t matter. I just wish you hadn’t picked here. I thought you meant the diner.” Paige tossed her purse and suit coat toward the inside of her bench seat.
“Oh, sorry. I just—” Brit broke off to wave at someone behind Paige.
Paige turned to see Willard Cameron—Cam to his friends back in high school—enter the bar. He’d been in Lyle and Sterling’s grade, had grown four
inches and had lost the tall, wedge-shaped ‘fro. In fact, he had honed himself into a lean, solid, dead-sexy specimen of a man.
He touched his baseball cap in greeting, but went to talk to someone at the bar.
Paige lifted her brows at Britta. Her best friend’s expression had brightened considerably and her gaze stayed fixed on Cam.
“What?” Britta said when she finally dragged her lust-filled eyes back to Paige. She read the speculation in Paige’s expression and her gaze dropped. “You think I’m awful, don’t you?”
“No! Why— Because I didn’t call you about taking Dad’s job? I’m sorry. Really. I was getting everything organized, booking Dad’s flight—” She explained about Palm Springs. “No, I kept meaning to call you, but things kept coming up.”
“I do.” Britta propped her face in her hands as she leaned on the table. “I mean, I think I’m awful. This is Zack’s little brother or sister. I shouldn’t even be thinking....”
Paige felt a squeeze in her chest, bit her lips against voicing her own thoughts, recognizing Britta’s need to process.
“I’m this close to freedom.” Britta showed a tiny space between her pinching finger and thumb. “Zack graduates next year. I’ll be finished with night school. I could do anything, go anywhere. Instead I’m supposed to tie myself down again? I wouldn’t have Mom pitching in like she did with Zack, not with her arthritis the way it is.”
Paige stayed silent, anguished to see her friend walk through this particular fire.
“I just can’t imagine going through all that again.”
Paige reached across to her. “You have me. I’m here for you no matter what.”
“Are you? Because I know what you Fogartys are like about kids. Can’t raise ‘em worth a damn, but you gotta take ownership.” She held up a hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just, your dad caught me buying the test.”
Paige nodded. “I wondered if he knew.”
“He knew I’d been over at Lyle’s that one afternoon. He said if it’s Lyle’s that I should tell him so he’ll marry me again. No, Paige. Never again in this lifetime. I can’t.”