Third Time's a Charm

by Virginia Smith

  “None at all.” Fran seated herself and pressed the button to turn on her computer. “So, did you have fun?”

  “We had a nice time.” Tori left quickly, before Fran could question her further. She’d just as soon not spread it around that she’d allowed her job to infiltrate her date by going to Maguire’s last night. No sense giving Mitch anything else to needle her about. Or any ideas for market research.

  She took the long way around the office so she could swing by the small break room and grab a cup of coffee. Rita always got to work before the sun came up and started a pot brewing. Tori doctored hers with diet sweetener and hazelnut-flavored creamer, and headed for her cubicle, stirring the light brown liquid with a wooden stir-stick.

  When she rounded the corner to her cubicle, she jerked to a stop in the doorway. It took a moment for the sight that greeted her to register on her uncaffeinated brain.

  While she stood gaping, her cube-neighbor Diana came to stand beside her, grinning widely. “You were either a very good girl,” she said with a nudge, “or a very bad girl, but very good at it.”

  Tori felt heat gathering in her face as she looked at her desk. On the corner sat Ryan’s bouquet of Gerbera daisies. But in the center stood a tall crystal vase absolutely overflowing with dozens of the rainbow-colored blooms, interspersed with colorful roses and baby’s breath.

  Diana’s voice held a giggle. “I don’t know who your date last night was with, but he sure did want to impress you.”

  After she left, Tori stood for a moment, staring at the flowers. They were beautiful, of course. But so many of them! There was only one person she knew who would go for such an ostentatious display. And his motive sure wasn’t to please her, but to make a statement.

  She crossed to her desk, tossed her purse on the chair, and searched for a card among the abundance of blossoms. The heady scent of the roses threatened to woo her into complacency, but then she plucked out the card.

  “You won’t see many of these on a plumber’s salary.”

  The handwriting was unmistakably Mitch’s. Her fingers itching with irritation, Tori ripped the card in two and tossed the pieces into the trash. What arrogance! She didn’t think for a minute he gave her flowers to please her or impress her. No, he just wanted to one-up Ryan. And in doing so, he proved himself to be the jerk she’d known he was all along. She picked up the vase—which was nice, she had to admit—and marched out of her cubicle.

  Diana looked up as she passed her doorway. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking them to the break room, where everyone can enjoy them.”

  “But why?”

  Tori raised her voice to be heard by everyone in the office. She had no idea if Mitch had arrived at work yet, but even if he hadn’t, someone would relay her reason. “I can’t stand to be in the same room with them. Roses make me sneeze.”

  Well, at least the first part was true.

  She was transcribing her thoughts about Maguire’s from last night’s scribbled notes to her computer when someone stepped into her cubicle. Phil Osborne. Surprised, her fingers paused over the keyboard. She hadn’t seen him since he left Mr. Connolly’s office Monday night. All day yesterday he’d stayed inside his office.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  She was struck with how kind his face was. Not even a hint of Mitch’s perpetual smirk. “Do you have a minute? I’d like to ask you something.”

  “Of course.”

  He gave her a distracted smile. “In my office, if you don’t mind.”

  Odd request. In the two years since she joined Connolly and Farrin, she hadn’t exchanged more than five words at a time privately with Phil. Oh, they’d been in plenty of meetings together, so Tori felt that they had a good professional relationship, but she couldn’t remember ever going into his office.

  “Sure, Phil.”

  She rose and followed him to his office, identical in size and furnishings to Kate’s but on the opposite side of the building, and so without windows. The walls boasted several nice paintings, and a happy-looking family smiled at her from a row of framed photographs lining the top of his credenza. An attractive table lamp rested on the corner of his desk, shedding a warm light into the room that gave the place a much homier feel than the harsh fluorescent lighting overhead. Tori felt herself relaxing as she sat in the chair he gestured toward. Instead of sitting on the other side of the desk, Phil took the second guest chair and turned it to face her.

  “I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion opportunity.” He spoke in a low voice with a glance toward the open doorway. “Becoming an AE so soon after joining the company will be quite a feather in your cap.”

  Tori shifted in her seat. Should she say anything about Kate being promoted over him? Like maybe an expression of sympathy for the unfairness? No, definitely not. “Thank you, but the job isn’t exactly mine yet.”

  “True, but I’m sure you’ll do a fine job on the Maguire campaign. You’ve got talent and enthusiasm.” He rested an arm on the edge of his desk. “Kate recognized that in you when she hired you, and she’s got an eye for talent.”

  “She hired Mitch too.”

  He dipped his head in a silent assent. Tori noticed, a little smugly, that Phil didn’t comment on Mitch’s talent or enthusiasm.

  A pen lay on the desk blotter, and he picked it up and began waving it absently between his thumb and forefinger. “I wondered if you’d be willing to help me out with a client.”

  Interesting. Phil handled most of the firm’s lower-revenue accounts, small business owners with matching marketing budgets. He had his own employees who helped him with those accounts. Since Tori had joined the company, she could count on two hands the number of times an AE had requested the assistance of a research analyst who worked for another AE.

  As though he could hear her thoughts, he said, “I know it’s an unusual request, but I’m a little under the gun. I’ve got a personal appointment Friday morning I’d prefer not to cancel. Samantha is off work that day, and I need to keep Randy heads-down on another project.”

  Heads-down on a project? Well, Tori was heads-down on a half-dozen projects. Everyone had more work than they knew how to handle lately, and Tori had the added responsibility of the Maguire plan.

  But she liked Phil. She couldn’t help remembering the dejected slump of his shoulders as he left Mr. Connolly’s office Monday evening. In fact, a touch of sadness still hovered around him, evident in the smile that didn’t quite make it all the way to his eyes.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “You’ll probably enjoy it,” he told her. “I need someone to oversee a commercial shoot for the Nolan’s Ark account Friday morning.”

  Tori straightened to attention. A commercial shoot? “Nolan’s Ark is a pet store, right?”

  “That’s right.” He tossed the pen on the desk and picked up a folder. “Everything is arranged. Artistic Video will do the filming, and they’ve already been briefed on what we want. Ed Nolan tells me he’s memorized the script.” He shook his head, a slow grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “I’m afraid he’ll be horrible on-camera, but he’s insistent.”

  “I’ve never done a commercial shoot, Phil.”

  “All you have to do is show up as the official representative of Connolly and Farrin. Just stand around and watch. Of course, if you get any great ideas, you’ll be free to express them.”

  He extended the folder. Excitement stole over her as she realized what Phil was handing her. This wasn’t a researcher’s job. It was the responsibility of an AE to oversee something as important as filming a television commercial. Phil was giving her the opportunity to gain some experience in the job to which she aspired.

  Mitch would choke when he found out.

  Trying to contain her excitement, Tori took the folder. “Thank you, Phil. I really appreciate your vote of confidence. I won’t let you down.”

  The grin spread to the other side of his mouth. “I’m sur
e you’ll do a fine job, Tori. That’s why I picked you.”

  They stood, Tori eager to get back to her desk and read his notes on the account. As she turned to go, her gaze fell on a small, framed plaque on the corner of his desk. She skimmed the calligraphed script.

  “Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve . . . But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord. Joshua 24:15.”

  Tori stole a glance at him. So Phil was a Christian. Funny, but the news didn’t surprise her at all. He didn’t spout Jesus-talk at every turn, but his manner had always been one of quiet integrity. He instilled trust. Unlike Kate, who instilled stress.

  Thoughtful, Tori headed back to her cubicle.

  11

  His watch read a few minutes past seven thirty when Ryan knocked on Tori’s door. He’d circled the apartment complex a few times, looking for her building and trying not to feel intimidated. Between the tree-shaded grounds, golf course– quality lawn, and crystal clear ponds complete with ducks floating peacefully on the quiet waters, the place looked more like a country club than an apartment complex. He plucked at the collar of his polo shirt. Maybe he should have dressed a little better.

  The door opened, and Tori stood smiling at him. Ryan’s pulse did something weird as he looked down into those round blue eyes. Whatever made a gorgeous girl like her agree to go out with him?

  “Come on in.” She stepped back. “I’m almost ready to go.”

  Ryan entered an apartment that was surprisingly sparse in the way of furnishings. And spotlessly clean. A square sofa was centered along the back wall facing an entertainment center, a traditionally styled coffee table between them. A dinette set filled the other side of the room near a serving window that led into the kitchen. A few framed black-and-white pictures decorated the walls, and in one corner stood a tall vase with artistic-looking stick-things protruding from the top. The room lacked the clutter of knickknacks that filled the homes of most of the women he knew. Instead, he felt like he’d stepped into a professionally decorated waiting room.

  “This is a great place.” He nodded toward the patio doors to indicate not only her apartment, but the entire complex.

  “Thanks. I like it here.” Tori gestured toward the sofa as she headed down a hallway. “Make yourself at home. I’ll only be a minute.”

  When she disappeared into a room at the end of the hall, Ryan crossed to the entertainment center to examine the shelves of DVDs. Chick flicks, mostly, with a few adventure movies. And what looked like a complete collection of James Bond. On the top were a couple of photos, one of Joanie, Allie’s baby, and the other of Tori and her sisters in front of a Christmas tree. Ryan studied their smiling faces. Tori and Allie were both blonde, while Joan’s brown hair and athletic build made her look like she might be from a different family entirely. Until he looked closer, and then he caught the resemblance in the shape of their eyes and their identical smiles.

  Tori returned carrying a small purse.

  “You must like James Bond.” He pointed toward the DVDs.

  She smiled. “I like the earlier ones best.”

  “Should I try to talk with a Scottish accent to impress you, then?” He spoke in his best imitation of Sean Connery.

  She cocked her head to the side, curls bouncing as she giggled. “Not bad, but I can still hear Kentucky in your voice. Shall we go?”

  He stepped outside into the breezeway. “Where are your pictures?”

  Her nose wrinkled with distaste. “Still in my car.” She locked the door and turned to face him. “Are you sure you want to see them? I wouldn’t want to bore you with a bunch of old baby pictures of Allie and Joan and me, and a guy you never even met.”

  “You, bore me?” He laughed as he guided her to the parking lot. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  With a loud sigh, she veered toward her car where it sat under a long awning with numbered spaces. When they stood before the trunk, she caught her lower lip between even white teeth as she pulled out her keys. She looked so reluctant, Ryan felt a little guilty.

  The trunk popped, but he put a hand out to stop her from opening it. “If you’d prefer not to go through them, it’s okay.”

  Her lips, shining from a fresh coat of lipstick she must have applied in her bedroom, formed a sad smile. “I don’t want to, but I sort of do, you know? And you were right—I don’t want to look at them by myself.”

  “Okay.”

  He lifted the trunk and watched her draw a fortifying breath before she opened the flaps of the box inside and took out a smaller one, the edges creased and wrinkled. She held it in both hands at arm’s length, as though it contained something distasteful. For her, he realized, it did.

  Gently, he took the box from her hands. She shot him a grateful look, then crossed the parking lot at his side. He shortened his strides to match hers. For some reason she seemed especially small and vulnerable this evening.

  She was quiet on the ride across town. When they neared the sprawling campus of the University of Kentucky, she straightened in her seat and gazed keenly outside.

  “Could you turn down here?” She pointed out a side street, and Ryan followed her directions to a large, deserted building with darkened windows.

  He pulled over to the side of the street and put the car in Park. “This is where Maguire’s new restaurant is going to be? I didn’t even know this building was back here.”

  She leaned forward to look through the windshield. “I checked the property records this afternoon. It’s had three different owners in the past ten years.”

  “Restaurants?”

  She nodded. “Independent owners, all of them. The last was an Indian restaurant that didn’t even make it six months.”

  Ryan examined the building with a critical eye. It looked nice enough, a squarish structure with a covered entry. It was cleaner than some of the ones surrounding it. “Then why do the Maguire people want to open a restaurant here?”

  “The others were start-ups.” She gave a brief shrug. “I guess they figure they’ve established a reputation in town. People have heard of them, and like them.”

  “Makes sense.” With a few enhancements, like a new front door and some different lighting, this building could be dressed up to support the atmosphere they saw last night. “At least there’s plenty of parking.” He pointed out the large lot to the right.

  “That’s good, I guess.” She didn’t look convinced.

  He narrowed his eyes and looked at her troubled face. “You don’t think this is a good decision for them, do you?”

  Her lips tightened, and she didn’t answer right away. “I’m not sure. Do me a favor, would you? Drive around and let me look at the area.”

  Ryan complied, driving slowly down a series of one-way streets, past several other restaurants in a five-block radius. Tori studied them intently. He tried to look at them with the same analytical view, but to him they just looked like a bunch of restaurants. A couple of fast-food places, a health food restaurant, a café with neon lights in the front window that boasted Caribbean food and draft beer. Finally he pulled into the parking lot for the pizza restaurant that was their destination, a block north of the building in question.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked when he’d put the car in Park and turned off the engine.

  She wore a thoughtful expression. “I think maybe I need to add another one of those Ps to my marketing plan.”

  “Place?”

  She nodded, then turned a grateful smile on him. “Thank you for driving me around.”

  “My pleasure.” He dipped his head, then reached into the backseat for the box of photos. “And now, you can introduce me to your father.”

  Her smile melted into a resigned frown. “And I was having such a good time too.”

  “C’mon.” He opened the door. “It won’t be that bad.”

  Before he closed his door, he heard her grumble, “That’s what you think.”

  An apron-clad server led t
hem up a set of worn wooden stairs to the upper dining room. The heels of Tori’s sandals clacked as she crossed the floor to a table for four, bypassing several picnic tables in the center of the room. The spicy odors of oregano and basil mingled with the yeasty scent of beer from the wide bar downstairs. A window in the back wall gave them a perfect view of the cooks in the kitchen.

  Ryan held out a chair next to the wall for her, and when she was seated, he surprised her by sliding into the one next to her instead of across the table.

  “So you can tell me what I’m looking at.” His grin as he set the box on the table almost took away the knots that tightened in her stomach every time she looked at it.

  Tori glanced around the room. Theirs was one of only three occupied tables. She’d been here dozens of times when she was a student at U.K., and the place was usually packed. Apparently summers weren’t as busy.

  “Did you know this is where Allie and Eric met?” She pointed down the stairs. “Right downstairs at that bar. Apparently he was with a group of his rowdy buddies, and he got so drunk she ended up having to drive him home.”

  Ryan laughed. “He sure has changed a lot since then. Now he’s a responsible, churchgoing husband and father.”

  Husband and father, yes, but Eric never went to church until last fall, when he got sucked into the Ken Fletcher revival movement. Now he was at church every time the doors opened, along with Allie and Joan. He was still a great guy, but personally, Tori liked him just fine before. But since Ryan was one of Ken’s friends, she couldn’t really say anything about that. And besides, she’d promised Joan she would try to like her fiancé. So she kept her tone pleasant as she said, “Yes, he sure has.”

  The server came for their order, then brought their soft drinks. When she’d disappeared down the stairs, Ryan put a hand on the shoebox and gave her a look.

  “Are you ready?”

  Tori raised her chin. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”