Tropical Storm - DK1

by Melissa Good

  “Hello, Dar.”

  “Afternoon, Michelle. What brings you to these parts?” Dar inquired civilly. “Please, sit down.” She motioned to one of the padded seats before her desk. “What can I do for you?” The red-haired woman was dressed in a neat silk suit that clung to her frame, leaving little to the imagination—an outfit just a little too exotic to be strictly business and a little too sexy not to have a purpose.

  “Well, the state tourism board’s meeting is this week. You know we’re a big part of that,” Michelle said, seating herself gracefully. “I had a few hours free tonight, I though I’d stop by and see if I could claim that raincheck.” Her eyes found Dar’s and a faint, fleeting smile crossed her lips. “If you’re not…busy.”

  A faint warning bell sounded in Dar’s head. “I had nothing planned,” she replied cautiously. “Did you have someplace in mind you wanted to try?”

  Idly, she toyed with the idea of telling the woman she had previous plans, then rejected the idea, deciding it would just postpone the inevitable. Might as well get the damn woman out of the way.

  “Well, this is your end of the pond, Dar. Why don’t you suggest something?” Michelle crossed her legs and leaned against the arm of the chair, a predatory smile on her face. “Surely you know all the nice spots around here.”

  The taller woman considered. “Where are you staying?”

  The smile widened perceptibly. “The Hyatt, downtown,” she purred.

  “Do you like seafood?” Dar asked politely.

  “I love it,” Michelle replied.

  Pale blue eyes regarded her warily. “All right, Monty’s down in the Grove is a good spot for that. I could pick you up—say at seven?”

  She nodded. “That would be perfect. I can fill you in on the Tropical Storm 329

  implementation plan, and we can…talk a little.” She stood up, having got what she wanted, and straightened her jacket neatly. “Room 1243.” She let her eyes linger on Dar’s body, then turned, moving across the carpet and pausing at the door. “Till then.” She slipped out, and Dar made a face.

  “Is that going to ever be a waste of good crabs. On the other hand, maybe I can get one to bite her.” Dar sighed.

  KERRY PUSHED HER door open and ducked inside, putting down the bags of groceries and kicking the wooden panel shut behind her. A glance at the clock told her it was well past ten, and she exhaled, having spent the night doing all the errands she could possibly think of. Or make up, for that matter, anything to keep her mind off where Dar was, and who she was with.

  “Jealousy is not a fun emotion,” she informed her fish. “Don’t let anyone fool you, Scully. It sucks.” Trudging into the kitchen, she put the bags down, setting the cold stuff down by the refrigerator. “Not that I’m worried mind you, I know Dar doesn’t like her.”

  Scully and Mulder blew bubbles.

  “No, really, she doesn’t. She was making the funniest jokes about her on the way out, though I think that was mostly to make me feel better.” She gave the fish a wry look. “I was trying really hard to not come off as a green-eyed monster, but of course that’s really tough for me, given the fact that I already have green eyes. You know what I mean?”

  Mulder blew a bubble. Scully inched up and smacked him on the lips.

  “Ooo, I can think of about seven million Internet fans that would kill for that sight.”

  The Lone Gunmen darted around as she crossed over and sprinkled a little food in the tank. She leaned against the edge, peering down at them. “It’s business, guys. Nothing personal.” She sighed. “But I can’t help wanting to pull her little red eyebrows out and feed them to her with a plunger.” She half wished Dar had simply turned down the meeting, even though she knew her boss had a responsibility to maintain good relations with their newest account. Does it have to be that kind of relations, though? Kerry felt a little sick every time she thought of Michelle, and her fancy hotel, and her exotic figure.

  It was a horrible, helpless feeling, and she briefly considered just putting everything away, and going to sleep. It would be over in the morning. Right?

  “Shit, come on, Kerry, get a grip. Dar turned down a dinner with her for a romp in the park with you just a few weeks ago. She couldn’t avoid this. The woman pranced into her office and practically forced her into it,” she told herself. Right?

  With a sigh, she went back into the kitchen and put everything away, including the milk and chocolate syrup she’d found herself getting wholly without conscious thought. Then she changed, and sat down on the couch, letting her fingers drift over the fabric and remembering Monday. Was it only three days ago? It felt longer. The clock ticked in the silence, and she could hear the soft hum of the aquarium’s tank motor. The phone’s ringing startled her, and she jumped, then got up and went over to it. “Hello?”

  “Kerry, I’m glad I caught you,” her mother’s voice sounded from the 330 Melissa Good receiver. “You’re hardly ever home these days, dear. I’ve been trying you since Tuesday.”

  Mmm-hmm. Better see about call forwarding. Kerry winced. “Sorry. I, um…I was working late yesterday, then I went to the gym…and we went out after that.”

  “Oh? You joined a gym?” Her mother’s voice sounded wary.

  “It’s a special deal through our company,” Kerry told her. “A whole bunch of us did it. I’m taking some aerobics, and wall climbing, and…a little self-defense class.” She laughed faintly. “It’s a lot of fun.”

  A moment’s silence. “Well, I’m very surprised you got involved in something like that when you’re leaving, Kerry,” her mother stated disapprovingly. “That’s not like you.”

  Kerry took a deep, deep breath. “Mother, let’s be sensible, all right? I can’t just give up this job and come home just because of an accident. It’s silly.” Briefly, she wished Dar was there, needing the taller woman’s comforting presence. “I’m doing great here, it’s such a good opportunity.”

  “Don’t be foolish,” her mother snapped. “Your father told you, you’re coming home. And let’s not hear any talk about that, Kerrison, it’s all arranged.”

  It was almost as though she could feel warm hands resting on her shoulders, and a close presence behind her as she stood a little straighter. “No, I’m not, and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, Mother. But I have every intention of staying here,” Kerry told her steadily. “I have friends here, and a great job. I’m not ready to give that up.”

  Kerry could feel the frozen silence emanating through the line. “We’ll see what your father has to say about that,” the voice replied angrily. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you. Of all the ungrateful things! Living there has given you horrible ideas, and it’s the best reason I can see for bringing you home.”

  It hurt. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mother. I don’t mean any disrespect to you, or to Daddy, but you have to understand that…” The line went dead.

  Kerry sighed and hung it up, letting it drop on the table with a dull thud.

  “Great. Just freaking, one hundred percent, doesn’t-that-bite-the-big-one, piece of crap, great.” Like her stomach hadn’t hurt enough already. Kerry sat down and cradled her head in her hands.

  THE RESTAURANT WAS about three quarters full, and the soft clink of silverware warred with low, buzzing conversation as Dar cocked her head, absorbing the story Michelle was telling her about some problem they’d had with their mainframes. It was sad; Dar had figured out what the problem was ten minutes prior, but she saw no percentage in giving Michelle a freebie, considering her network people had been frustrated over it for a week. “You could contract us to send an analyst out there,” she offered with a frank smile.

  Michelle toyed with her fork and peered at her over lashes dusted lightly with a faint golden tinge. “You mean you can’t solve it off the top of your head? Why, Dar, I’m disappointed.”

  Dar briefly considered responding with a smart remark about services Tropical Storm 331

 
and paying for them, then she merely smiled. “Oh, I can’t solve everyone’s problems, but I’m sure one of our engineers could fix you right up.” She took a sip of the champagne Michelle had insisted on, then speared a piece of salmon and glanced outside. The marina the restaurant bordered was full of winking lights, boats traveling in and out and docked. There was a party in full swing on one, with bearded men in denim shorts and women in halter tops trading beers. She fought the urge to loosen her own buttoned collar, and sighed inwardly. “I heard from infrastructure, your circuits are in.”

  “Well, that’s good news.” Michelle apparently decided to give up on her prodding. “Took them long enough,” she sniped.

  Two weeks for a major T3 circuit wasn’t long, but Dar refused to dispute that. “Problem was your demarc, actually, the telco people tell me it took them six days to get access to the switch room.” She gave Michelle a pleasant look.

  “Makes it a little tough to complete the circuit if you can’t get into the facilities.”

  “We’re very serious about security,” she responded with a tight-lipped smile. “Just like you are, we don’t let people wander about our buildings anonymously.”

  Dar laughed. “Come on, Michelle, two Southern Bell technicians in uniform with their famous truck. How anonymous is that?” She nibbled another piece of salmon as she gazed innocently at the shorter woman, who was neatly decimating a plateful of stuffed shrimp.

  Graver didn’t answer for a moment as she swallowed. “Anyone can pick up one of those stupid-looking white helmets and a shirt. We don’t take chances,” she informed Dar. “So, tell me, Dar, I’m curious; what makes someone as experienced as you pick a rank novice as an assistant?”

  It came from around the corner, and hit unexpectedly. But Dar hadn’t spent years in the boardroom refining her reactions for nothing. She took a forkful of baked potato and considered the question seriously. Why, Michelle?

  Because she’s a babe, and I fell head over heels in love with her at pretty much first sight, of course. No, no, Dar, can’t tell the weeble that. “Well, she was part of an account we consolidated not long ago, and I thought she had some good potential, so I took a chance on her,” she answered evenly. “It paid off. She sent your intranet people some mail telling them how to do a better job securing your network, considering she was able to tap right into your master routers past your firewall.” Another forkful of potatoes followed, and she chewed innocently as Michelle apparently swallowed something the wrong way and hastily took a sip of water. “She’s good, and a fast learner. Why?”

  “Just asking.” Michelle cleared her throat. “Actually, she was quite impressive. She’s Roger Stuart’s daughter?”

  Dar nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”

  Michelle smirked. “That was clever of you. He’s not a friend of your company’s,” she purred. “I sense an ulterior motive here.”

  Sure you do, it’s just not the one you’re thinking of, Michelle. “Not really.

  Though that might turn out to be an asset,” Dar answered dismissively.

  “I’m sure she has many…assets.” Michelle smiled at her. “But enough about her. Tell me more about yourself, Dar.”

  It feels like the dinner’s lasted three weeks, Dar reflected as they finally left 332 Melissa Good the restaurant into the cool night air. She took in a breath of it, then stepped forward as the valet brought the Lexus around. She waited for Michelle to settle herself, then she slid into the driver’s side, moving the seat back a little to accommodate her inches.

  “Nice.” Michelle ran a finger over the leather surface. “Not quite what I pictured you driving, but nice.”

  Dar bit back an answer and started the car. “Thanks, I like it.” She put the Lexus in gear and turned right out onto Bayshore Drive, heading back to pick up the highway and return Michelle to her hotel.

  She knew what Michelle was gunning for. That much had been obvious from the moment she’d picked up the shorter woman, when she’d made a point of fingering Dar’s jacket and complimenting her perfume. And she obviously felt that Dar was going to be a willing participant. God knew, she had before, and with less attractive people than Michelle Graver, who was good-looking, experienced, very sensual, and certainly more worldly than the sweetly uncertain Kerry.

  Kerry had said, with a warm hand on her arm as they parted in the parking lot. “Dar, have fun. Don’t hold back if you don’t want to.” She’d even smiled. So that was all right, right? Kerry understood it was just business…that she really didn’t like Michelle. It was just…part of the job.

  Kerry understood. It wasn’t like it meant anything, and it would be a quick, relatively enjoyable time. Michelle would leave happy, and no harm would be done. Dar pulled up in front of the Hyatt and put the Lexus in Park, half turning towards Michelle as the shorter woman eyed her with warm speculation. “Here we are.”

  A smile started on Michelle’s face. “You coming up?” Her voice was low and sure. “I’d love to continue our conversation.”

  Dar drew breath to answer, then jumped as her cell phone rang. She pulled it out and flipped it open, giving Michelle an apologetic look. “Yeah?”

  “Dar, it’s Mark. We’ve got a big problem,” the MIS chief’s voice burred in her ear.

  It was the perfect excuse. It got her off the hook and didn’t leave the interestedly watching Michelle feeling rejected. “Hang on, Mark.” She muted the phone and turned to the shorter woman. “Much as I appreciate the offer, Michelle, and I do, I’m afraid I have to decline.”

  A perfectly shaped red eyebrow curved up. “Problems?” She indicated the phone.

  Dar met her eyes. “No, but I’m involved with someone, and it’s just not my style.” Damn, that felt good to say. She sighed inwardly as Michelle’s face stiffened into a hidden fury. “And, frankly, you’re not my type.” The door slammed behind her, and Dar leaned back, knowing she’d just caused herself a whole pile of trouble. Amazing how incredibly good that felt. “Okay, Mark, what do we have?” She put the Lexus in gear and pulled away from the towering brown building.

  KERRY BARELY MADE it in the door as the phone rang for the fourth time, her skates slipping on the entryway tile and sending her lunging across Tropical Storm 333

  the room. “Jesus!” she yelped as her sweat-drenched body hit the side of the couch, and she grabbed the ringing instrument. “Yow!” She landed on her butt and lost the phone, then scrambled after it, capturing it finally. “Hello?”

  she growled into it, trying to catch her breath.

  A pause. “Hi.” A low, vibrant voice answered her, a touch quizzically.

  Every ounce of tension suddenly drained out of Kerry, leaving her limp as a damp, warm dishrag on the floor. “Hey, sorry.” In the background, she could hear music faintly playing; other than that, it was very quiet where Dar was. She glanced at her watch. Eleven. Hmm. Her spirits rose from the dumpster. Guess things didn’t work out. She felt a smile pull at her lips. What a shame.

  “You all right?” Dar inquired gently.

  “I’m drenched, exhausted, pissed off, and now I have a sore butt,” Kerry replied. “Other than that, I’m great. How about you? How did dinner go?”

  A soft chuckle. “Lousy. I think I may have blown a very important client relationship right to hell.” The executive sighed. “Why are you pissed off, not to mention drenched and exhausted?”

  Kerry crossed her weighted down ankles and regarded the white popcorn ceiling. “Oh…well, I was skating,” she explained. “My mother called. I kind of broke the news to her that I wasn’t moving back there. She hung up on me.”

  “Ah,” Dar murmured. “Sorry.”

  “I’m not,” Kerry replied. “But it really pissed me off, and I…” She hesitated. Was already tied in knots. No, she doesn’t need to know that. “I decided to work off some energy skating.”

  “Mmm, I see. You sound tired,” Dar commented. “I should, um, let you get some sleep.”

  A momentary silence fell. Kerry
rolled over and cradled the phone against her ear. “Where are you?”

  A soft clucking noise then Dar let out a chuckle. “Outside in your parking lot,” she admitted.

  “Dar!” Kerry felt a laugh bubble up, and her bad mood vanished. “Get in here. Jesus, don’t be goofy. You can help me up. I think I broke my butt.”

  Through the half open door she heard the solid sound of the car door closing, then the soft, rhythmic footsteps she recognized as Dar’s. She turned and watched as the door pushed open, and the dark head poked inquisitively in.

  “Hi.” She waggled a skate-covered foot at the taller woman.

  Dar put her hands on her hips and gazed down at her, a faint, playful smile pulling at her lips. “You always go roller skating half naked?” she inquired, blinking appreciatively at the brief shorts and cutoff shirt. “You might coax me into trying it in that case.”

  “Hah hah hah.” Kerry stuck her tongue out. “No, I don’t, but everything else is in the laundry. For some reason, I hadn’t gotten around to doing it this week.” A pause. “Yet.”

  Dar tossed her jacket down and joined Kerry on the floor, stretching out on her side and propping her head up on one hand. She’d traded her suit for a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt, and she looked relaxed and faintly disheveled.

  Just how Kerry liked her. She smiled. “So…is Michelle going to send Uncle Scrooge after you or something?”

  334 Melissa Good Dar shrugged. “She might, I’ll have to see. I’d better send a note down to the account team for them and warn them she’s probably going to be a bitch on wheels to them.” She fell silent and regarded the keys in her hand. “It’s too bad, but…”

  Kerry rolled over and faced her. “But what? Dar, forgive me for saying this, but she’s a pig.” The blonde woman’s brows knit. “She was chasing after you like some…some…”

  “Horny guy?” Dar inquired with a wry twist of her lips. “Maybe it’s the short woman syndrome I keep hearing about.”

  “Hey!” Kerry gave her a look. “Short people don’t have syndromes!” she protested. “We’re just always pissed off because we can’t reach kitchen cabinets.”