Do Not Disturb

by Lisa Ballenger

  Brett nodded. "Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “Eat?”

  Waving to Allison's left, he pointed to the sandwich Susie had delivered thirty minutes earlier, its bread now sagged over the edges of the turkey, the lettuce dragging on the waxed paper.

  She shook her head. “I’ll eat later.”

  “That how you keep in shape? Skipping meals?”

  How could he tell what kind of shape she was in? She pulled her jacket front together. This silk blouse was a little more fitted than some of her others, but...

  “Allison?”

  She glanced back as he inclined forward, his twinkling eyes leveled intently on her, driving every rational thought right out of her head. Those gray eyes.

  Blinking, she broke the connection. “I think we’d better talk about the carnival.” She accomplished her goals when she concentrated.

  “Is that breakfast?” He nodded to the half-eaten bagel on the credenza.

  Why was that still there? She never left food sitting around. She never left anything out of place. Sinking into her chair, she gave up on trying to get him out the door quickly.

  “I forgot about it.” She tossed the stale bread into the trash. "I've been trying to catch up all day. Ever since I got behind helping my daughter dress for picture day.” She shook her head. “I can't believe it wasn’t on the school calendar. Don’t they know kids lose notes?”

  "But they announced it.” He looked confused. “At the meeting the other night and updated calendars were at the front of the room."

  "Oh." She bit her lower lip. This multi-tasking wasn’t working out as well as she thought. Maybe she needed to streamline her daily task list. "I...I guess I wasn't paying attention at the meeting."

  "Yeah, it's hard to keep up with everything. Children, job..."

  Allison shot straight up in her chair. "But I can do it.” She was not out of control just because she forgot about picture day and a little food. “I just need to be a little more organized and -”

  “I don’t think it’s possible to be more organized, Allison.” He waved a hand around her office.

  She started to relax just looking around. Pencils stood sharpened in a cup on the corner and the weekly monetary bulletins were tacked with precision on the cork board above her computer. Not bad. Get rid of the food and her office would be back to the way she needed it.

  She’d trained herself early to stay organized. Without order and structure it would’ve been impossible for her to accomplish what she already had in life...and what she had planned for the future.

  “I'd guess you’re extremely efficient. Including trying to eat while you work. Unless, of course, you don’t really have anything to do in this fancy job of yours.” He fingered her nameplate sitting at the edge of the desk. “What exactly do you do here anyway?”

  “I’m the...” She snapped her fingers and jerked out the middle drawer of her desk. “Oh yes, that reminds me. I put this together for you.” She handed him a glossy black folder with the bank’s name on the cover in gold.

  Brett peeked inside where she’d tucked brochures in the pockets.

  “It’s information on the services we offer.” She leaned over the desk, pointing to each of the marketing materials organized by financial service. “Checking. Savings. Loans. Since you just moved I thought it might help.”

  “Mercy.” Brett flipped through the documents. “This is really nice of you.”

  “No problem. If you have any questions, I put in all the business cards of the people to call.”

  “You really are efficient, aren’t you?” He smiled. “Especially for a dead elf.”

  “Elves are very smart,” she said, smiling back. “Especially the tall ones.”

  “I’ve always liked tall elves myself.” He winked.

  She sat back quickly, gripping the arms of her chair. Was he flirting?

  “Allison, sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Carson needs you in a meeting in ten minutes.”

  Allison yanked her gaze to the door. “Mr. Carson?”

  Suzie stood still, her wide eyes darting between Brett and Allison.

  “Thanks. Tell him I’ll be there.”

  “Okay.” Suzy answered sweetly and smiled as she turned away.

  Great. No telling what Suzie’d heard Brett saying. Allison twisted her chair toward her credenza and opened a file drawer, struggling to switch her mind to work. The only men that visited Allison’s office talked about banking, never about elves.

  She zipped through her folders, pulling out the ones she might need. First she needed to get through the meeting with Mr. Carson. She could handle Suzie’s curiosity later.

  “I'm terribly sorry about this, Brett,” Allison said into her credenza. “Especially after you came all the way down here.”

  “I know when I'm being replaced by another man.”

  "What?" She twirled her chair back to the front, her mouth hanging open.

  He was flirting.

  "I tell you what.” He braced his elbows on the desk and picked up the task list she’d placed in front of him. “Why don't I contact the other committee members and make some assignments?" He pointed to the typed names with corresponding phone numbers. "Then I'll call you so we can plan the next meeting with everyone." He looked up. "How’s that?"

  "You sure you have the time to do all that? I hate to dump this on you. Here you are new and, well...it just doesn’t seem fair.”

  "My time's very flexible.” He pointed to the computer screen displaying her monthly schedule. “Much more than yours I see."

  She shifted to the left to hide the screen from his scrutiny. His time certainly sounded more than flexible. No calendar, a tan, time to pop in to see her at the last minute.

  "How can you..." She stopped. It was none of her business he didn't have anything else to do while she could barely find time to breathe.

  "How can I what?"

  "Nothing," she said, standing. "If you’re sure you have the time, it would really help me out." She walked around the desk and stopped by his chair.

  Brett unfolded his large frame a few inches away from her, so close she caught a hint of his cologne. She unconsciously took a deep breath.

  "I guess I'd better go, huh?" His voice was low, almost husky.

  Startled by his nearness and the realization that she was standing in her office relishing a man’s cologne, she stepped back. "Sorry...I...”

  "I'm gone." He strolled to the office door and looked over his shoulder. "And don’t forget to eat. Wouldn’t want you to waste away on me.”

  Watching his back as he left, Allison gripped her folders flat against her chest. She was only thin, she wasn’t wasting away.

  Discussing monetary policies and planning the bank’s strategic investments was the part of her job Allison enjoyed the most. Just talking with Walter Carson, her boss and the chief financial officer, usually sent adrenaline rushing through her.

  But today was different.

  While Walter took phone calls, thoughts of Brett slipped right past the normally captivating overnight interest rates.

  When was the last time a man had affected her this way? A few had drifted through her life since college, but it was rare to find one not intimidated by her for some reason. Her height. Her brains. Even her position at the bank caused some to retreat. And if all that didn't send them running, a ten-year-old daughter finished them off.

  “That should take care of the current assets, Allison.” Walter closed the folder on his desk and reached for his coffee. “How’s your thesis going? Almost done?”

  “Almost.” She wrote one last note on her pad before looking up, a mental image of the undone thesis research filing through her mind. “I keep thinking I’ll have the time to get the last bit done and then something comes up. But I’m determined to finish it before the holidays.”

  Rocking in his leather chair, Walter focused on her over his coffee. “That’s right on schedule isn’t it?”

  �
�Well...” She hesitated. She could feel a lecture coming. “I’m two semesters ahead of schedule.”

  His gray brows furrowed behind wire rimmed glasses as he placed his cup down and slowly came around the desk. Pulling the fabric of his navy suit up his thigh, he sat on the edge near her and crossed his arms, taking on his authority pose. “Allison, you need to stop driving yourself so hard. You’re smart, successful and you have a long career ahead of you, with lots of good opportunities, but...there are more important things than work, you know.”

  “I know and I promise to slow down after this.” With her boss being in his late fifties, around the same age as her parents, it sometimes felt like she was answering to them, defending her lifestyle.

  Of course Kelly was more important, but this mattered, too. She might not have accomplished it the way she’d dreamed when she went away to college, but after five years of excruciating work, a Masters in Business Administration was finally going to be hers.

  “That’s why I want to finish it now. I’m taking some time off with Kelly at Christmas.”

  “Good.” He slipped off the desk and escorted her to the door. “I’d already decided to lock you out of your office and make you take a vacation.”

  “You won’t have to go that far.” She backed out of the door. He’d been her mentor since the day she joined the bank ten years earlier, guiding her career, but also understanding about her personal obligations with Kelly. She was lucky to be working here. For him. Lucky to have her career already set. “I promise.”

  “I bet you drove your parents crazy, didn’t you? Always the over achiever.”

  “Still do,” she said with a laugh.

  Strolling into her office, she spotted the uneaten lunch. Brett’s words resonated through her. What did he mean by wasting away? Running her hands over her hips, she hit bones. Was she really skinny, not just thin?

  She plopped down in her chair and twirled around to the sandwich. Munching the cold, dry turkey, she gazed out the window to the blue waters of Tampa Bay. Two sailboats cruised by.

  She missed the water, the beach.

  But just a few more months and she could relax. She’d eat something decent then. Maybe even do something fun for herself.

  Tossing the empty food carton in the trash, she washed down the last bite with cold coffee then turned to her computer to tackle her next task.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "I’ve talked to everybody and they’re ready to meet."

  Allison shifted the phone to her left hand as Brett continued his update on his success with the committee members.

  "I appreciate you taking care of it all.” Hunching her shoulder up to hold the phone to her ear, she packed her briefcase with work. He must be on vacation if he got all that done in one day. She found a stack of post-it notes and jammed them into a side pocket. And she bet he wasn’t planning to work all weekend. “Why don't we all meet Monday afternoon at my house around five-thirty."

  He hesitated. "Five-thirty?"

  "Is that a problem?" Surely he wasn’t on vacation next week, too and plotting a day at the beach for Monday.

  "Not if I can bring my daughter. I don't like leaving her alone that late in the day. She's only eleven."

  Allison sighed, her hand stopping on the clasp of her briefcase. No beach, just the trials of the single parent. And he hadn’t been in town long enough to stockpile sitters for emergencies. "Of course,” she said. “Kelly’s ten. They can watch videos or something."

  "Great. See you Monday.”

  By the time she’d hung up the phone, her exhausted body was aching. Noting the time on the desk clock, the familiar rush of guilt streamed through her. There was never enough time.

  Allison had grown up with drastically different ideas about how her life would turn out, mapping a meticulous path to her goals. She smiled at her daughter’s picture on her desk. But even at her lowest moments, she was grateful at this curve in her life. Amazing how that sensible, loving child kept her grounded in reality.

  She wedged her sore feet into the heels she’d kicked off an hour earlier and reached for her briefcase. Cutting off the lights, she locked the door to the office suite. Once again, the last one out of the office. She dropped the keys in her purse and headed for the elevators.

  This was how it had to be.

  She pressed her throbbing back against the wall, a futile attempt to massage her knotted muscles and stared at the numbers announcing each floor as the car climbed toward her. There just wasn’t another choice if she wanted to keep her life on track and meet her goals.

  "Please, Mom. Can't Caroline stay for dinner?"

  Allison rested her hip against the island in her kitchen, her daughter pulling on her hand and begging. Allison had buzzed the Halloween committee through the meeting, papers flying as she set up the schedule to meet deadlines. But now she was beginning to wobble in her heels.

  "Sweetie, I'm sure Mr. Tyler wants to get home and I’m just ordering a pizza, nothing special."

  He stood a few feet away, his arm slung around Caroline’s shoulder. This was awkward. Did he want to stay?

  "They don't have plans." Kelly ran over to Brett. "Do you, Mr. Tyler? You want to stay here and eat pizza, don't you?"

  “Yeah, Dad, this way you don’t have to cook tonight.”

  “But what about all those fresh vegetables?”

  “Dad...” Caroline droned, moving closer to his side. “We’re talking pizza here.”

  “You can have vegetables any old time,” Kelly added.

  He waved a hand in Allison’s direction. “It's up to your mother, Kelly. She’s probably tired after working all day and then running the meeting." He looked at Allison. "I don't mind picking it up if you want to kick back and rest a few minutes.” He grinned. “At least this way I’ll know you actually do eat."

  “Brett.” She shot him a warning glance then her daughter’s expectant face caught her eye. He had her now.

  “Mom?” Kelly pleaded.

  "Okay,” Allison said, her shoulders slumping just a notch. “I'll order it, you can go get it."

  "Yippee." The girls jumped up and down.

  "We'll go with you, Daddy.” Caroline raced to the front door. “Come on Kelly."

  "OK with you?" Brett asked, pointing to the squealing girls.

  "Sure. If you're brave enough to take them on." Allison backed up to the phone and punched in a number on her speed dial.

  "We're back, Mom."

  "Set it here." Allison motioned to the bar separating the kitchen from the family room.

  Brett spread two cardboard boxes on the glossy gray surface next to the silverware, plates and napkins. How could a man look so good in jeans and oxford shirt, she thought, watching him rip the tops off the boxes.

  He gave her a quick grin and she realized this eating dinner together was not a good idea. She’d never be able jam pizza past the lump in her throat that popped up every time he looked at her.

  "Can we eat in front of the television, Mom?” Kelly and Caroline stood close together. “Please?"

  She whirled away from Brett. Thank goodness the girls were around. If he was willing to flirt with her at the bank, she wasn’t sure what he’d do if they were alone. Or even more worrisome, how she’d react.

  “Only if you put your plates on the coffee table. Wait." Allison removed two plastic trays from the cabinet. "Use these, too."

  “Be careful, Caroline,” Brett cautioned. “We don’t want to mess up Allison’s house.” He nodded toward the family room, then looked at Allison, “She’s not quite used to all the neatness. I’m afraid my housekeeping is...” and shrugged.

  "I’m not a clean freak,” Allison countered as the girls moved away, ignoring her memory of zooming around at midnight vacuuming and dusting.

  She didn’t mean to be picky about the house but it’d taken forever to paint and refurbish the oak furniture she’d salvaged from yard sales. She’d hated every minute of rummaging through mostly junk
in people’s driveways, but it had been worth it. A couch her mother had recovered in a pale green cotton, a coordinating chair and an eclectic mix of end tables and lamps made her house comfortable.

  “I’m jealous.” Brett rounded the counter. “I think I just need to give up on cleaning and get a maid.”

  A maid? He had to be joking. After the years scraping together the down payment and the mortgage still straining her budget, she wouldn’t see a maid until after Kelly was through college.

  Brett piled food on his plate with his fingers, ignoring the server she’d set out.

  “I guess we can eat at the table." She winced as cheese stretched from the box to his plate, but he caught it just before it sagged to the counter. Maybe a maid for Brett might not be a bad investment.

  "Unless you prefer the floor also?"

  "Definitely not.” He grabbed a fistful of napkins. ”I know their choice of videos and I can live without seeing them... again." He pulled out a chair for Allison and waited for her to fill her plate before he sat down.

  Hmmm...tall, good-looking, slightly messy, and polite, she thought walking toward him. Intriguing.

  She placed her plate on the plaid cotton placemat, set her glass on the cork coaster, then picked up her pizza. Biting in, she looked over it at Brett. He was watching her.

  "What? I’m eating." But she’d never get through even one bite if he kept staring.

  "You look different." He pointed to her jeans and knit t-shirt. "Less the lady in charge. More the lady of leisure."

  She’d changed while they were gone, sick of her confining heels, blouse, skirt, jacket and other trappings of the consummate woman banker. Ten hours in them was enough torture for one day.

  “And...?” she asked, waving her pizza in the air.

  Brett's mouth curved into a smile. "I like it." His eyes raked over her body, stopping briefly at her chest before moving back to her face, his brows raised. "Your suits are okay for your corporate image, but this is definitely a more..." He leaned over the table so only she could hear him. "More sexy look."