CardsNeverLie

by Heather Hiestand

  She pasted a smile on her face, but as soon as Rob came close, the smile became genuine. She really did like him too.

  “Hey you,” Rob said, moving his cardboard coffee tray and bag to one hand and giving her a hug with his free arm. “You look a lot better than you sounded earlier.”

  “You woke me up.” She clasped her hands behind her and arched into a stretch. “I’m glad you did. I’ve got so much to do today.”

  “I can see that.” Rob held up the drinks tray, though his eyes did momentarily rest upon the cheery yellow T-shirt-clad breasts she had thrust his way, Melanie noticed.

  “Take one. They’re both café au lait.”

  “Fabulous. Thanks!” Melanie took the tray and walked into the living room, but the coffee table lay covered in trash, spoons, empty ice cream containers and wineglasses. How could she have ignored the mess? She must be more upset than she realized. She hastily led Rob into the kitchen. Luckily, it hadn’t been the scene of too much carnage the night before.

  “Have a seat.” She gestured to one of the upholstered benches alongside the table in the breakfast nook. Rob put down the bag and sat as Melanie grabbed a couple of plates.

  “Are you going to fight Professional Massage?” he asked.

  “You certainly get right to the point, don’t you?” she winced.

  “You fought for Brisa,” he reminded her. “Will you do any less for yourself?”

  “No one was harassing me at Professional Massage. They were just sabotaging my career.”

  “But you can’t believe this is fair.” Rob stared into her eyes until she turned away.

  Melanie took a deep breath. She didn’t want his paranoia to affect her and she didn’t want him to make any of her decisions. She had made a mistake. Now she needed to find a way to get back on her feet as soon as possible. “I did talk to you, Rob,” she pointed out as she put down the plates and sat. “Even if management found out about it in a lowdown, sneaky way.”

  “You’re right.” Rob scowled and pulled a croissant from the bag. “I spoke to my grandfather. Your name never came up in his conversation with Professional Massage’s CEO.”

  “So it was Tida.” Figures.

  Rob nodded. “She’s the only possibility. I expect she’ll be fired today.”

  “I wonder what her tie to Professional Massage is?” Melanie wondered aloud.

  “That much I can guess. Grandfather said she mentioned her boyfriend’s name was Al.”

  “Al Plowman?” Melanie laughed, unable to help herself. “That beautiful girl is involved with Al?”

  It made sense, oddly enough. He had dated Anita after all. What did they see in him? Ninety thousand a year, she guessed. The money was sexy enough.

  “Is there any other Al at Professional Massage?”

  “Not that I know of.” Melanie took a sip of the creamy coffee. “It doesn’t matter anyway. They said I was incompetent, which I’m not. If I were fired for that alone, I would fight. But I can’t fight Tida’s story, even if she is a scheming snake.”

  “At least she’s losing her job.” Rob clasped her hand for a moment. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for my error in judgment.”

  Melanie felt the tiniest bit bad about this outcome. Now that she knew Rob had never been interested in the beautiful girl, she could be magnanimous. “And you were so pleased to give her a chance.”

  “Obviously my efforts were misguided. But I’m not going to give up trying to rescue damsels in distress.”

  “What do you mean?” There was another one? Where did he find these people?

  “I’m offering you a job.”

  “What?” Melanie laughed. “I’ll never work for you.” I’d much rather sleep with you, as soon as I can get my act together.

  Rob’s cheek clenched at her laugh. She felt sorry for hurting his feelings, after he had been so nice about breakfast.

  “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I just mean you can’t have a real job to offer me. I don’t have the right kind of experience for you.” She clapped her hand over her mouth as she caught her double entendre. She had no time for the consequences of double entendres.

  “No, you’re wrong about that.” His lips quirked. “I’ve only got a six-month reprieve on the sale. If we stay focused on S and M products, my grandfather will never let the business stay in the family. But if we diversify, maybe I can save us.”

  “You think I can help you do that?” She held back a gasp as his leg curled around hers under the table.

  “I know you can. You’re a product design specialist, aren’t you? Your skills are exactly what we need to save the business. When Grandfather called Professional Massage, Dick Porter tried to gloss over the cash flow issues by saying he had two great products about to go to market—Midnight Oil and Magical Milk. He even messengered over samples to try to persuade Grandfather that his company was about to be in the money.”

  Melanie wondered if the scent of Midnight Oil had seemed familiar to Rob. He rubbed his now bare toes across the top of her foot.

  “I didn’t know they were offering samples of our product yet,” Melanie mused aloud.

  And she was supposedly incompetent. Liars! But she couldn’t sue. She had signed away her right to do so in those crazy, scary minutes right after the firing in order to get a couple of months of health insurance. They wouldn’t give her any money other than cash out her vacation time. That was only two weeks’ pay.

  Melanie took a deep breath and sipped at her coffee. Did he really have a job for her, or was he just trying to get her under his control? His touch on her body, which had been so welcome until her bad news, made her wonder. She had learned to be wary of the touches of men who had power. Look what she had let Gerald do to her Olympic dreams and now Tida was losing her job because of Al, while he hid safely behind his desk.

  But she did need a solution quickly. She remembered her bank balance and knew she couldn’t afford to be too cautious. Her next mortgage payment was due in three weeks. As it was, her bank account fell three hundred dollars short. She could borrow from her parents for a month or two, but then what?

  “In this case they obviously did. They are excellent products, Melanie, and I know you designed them.” He took her hand. “Give LeatherWorks a shot, for the six months at least. I can’t guarantee long-term employment, but at least you’ll come out of this with good references.” He moved his foot away from hers.

  Melanie felt torn, like they were negotiating for her body along with her mind. She didn’t like it. The two needed to be separate. Her job had saved her sanity during her disastrous marriage, the job she had fought to have after a crippling depression, which began when she was unable to cope with sitting home alone while Gerald philandered. “I can keep paying my mortgage if I worked for you,” she thought aloud.

  “You could start next week,” he suggested, stroking her arm.

  She pushed his hand away, wishing her shorts and T-shirt provided more protection from his sultry moves. If she even considered his offer, she wouldn’t be able to date him any longer. After Gerald, she had promised to never again involve herself with an authority figure in her life. And as CEO, Rob would control her very livelihood. She hated the idea of giving up her chance for a sexy lover, but it would be very difficult to find another job opportunity in her field. Those isolated days of crying and feeling hopeless came back to her and she hated even the memory. Stiffening, she told herself the memories were six years old. Melanie Vanderpool learned from her mistakes and she wouldn’t falter again.

  “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  Rob grinned. “I have a meeting in half an hour, but I could come back this afternoon and show you.” He nudged her knee under the table.

  “I meant about the job,” she said sharply. “I don’t know much about leather.”

  “So do a little market research from your computer.” Rob stood up. “I do have to get going, angel, what time should I come back?”

  “Com
e back?”

  “We have a date tonight.”

  “No, not tonight,” Melanie said. “I have to think. But I’ll call you.”

  * * * * *

  Melanie took a deep breath as she stood outside the lobby of Professional Massage. Instead of spending her Tuesday morning in a product review session, she was being allowed to clear out her desk under the stern eye of a rented security guard. At least they hadn’t just tossed all her breakables into a box and mailed it.

  She followed the guard through the lobby, as if she didn’t know where her old office was. As if she hadn’t spent six years of her life here, working to make the company a success.

  They walked down the hall past the box of Christmas ornaments she’d never see hung again. Melanie straightened her spine. There would be no tears.

  Jill waited for her by her desk. She had dressed in uncharacteristically somber fashion today, in a brown suit and cream blouse.

  “Melanie!” she cried and flung her arms around her former boss.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Melanie said and hugged her with the arm that didn’t hold an empty cardboard box before releasing her.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Jill wailed.

  “Please don’t,” Melanie said in a low voice. Thankfully everyone who sat nearby was still at the meeting.

  Jill swallowed noisily and rubbed a sleeve across her eyes, smearing makeup onto the brown fabric. “I’m sorry.” She glanced at the guard. “You can watch us from here, through the glass door.”

  Jill swept into Melanie’s office. Melanie felt guilty for not worrying about what would happen to her assistant.

  “Have you lost your job too?” Melanie asked.

  Jill shook her head. “No.”

  She looked so dreadful that something must have happened. “I’m sorry if my actions have hurt your career, Jill.”

  Jill sniffed and leaned against Melanie’s desk. Melanie dropped her box on the table and started gathering the family photographs that were framed on her desk and pinned to her bulletin board.

  “Melanie?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know exactly why you were fired, but I bet I’ve done worse things than you. What are we going to do?”

  Melanie frowned. “I’ve already got a job offer so you don’t need to worry. With LeatherWorks.”

  Jill’s jaw dropped. “With them? You’re kidding!”

  “No. Why? What do you know about them?”

  “A lot.” Jill swallowed. “Could you take me with you?”

  Melanie shook her head. “It’s probably going to be temporary, Jill, and I doubt I’ll have an assistant. I’m sorry.”

  “Temporary? You mean, just until they are sold?”

  Melanie felt for the edge of her desk with her hands and held on. “What do you know about that? It’s supposed to be a big secret.”

  Jill worried at her lip with her teeth. “I’m not proud of why I know.”

  Melanie tugged Jill into one of the two guest chairs by the desk. “What are you talking about?”

  “He broke our date a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t seen him since.”

  “Who?” A tremor ran through Melanie. Jill couldn’t mean Rob, could she? Melanie leaned forward.

  “Jack O’Brien.”

  Melanie felt dizzy, relieved not to hear the name she had feared. She sat back in her chair. “Oh?”

  “He’s the number two man at LeatherWorks. We’re lovers.” She corrected herself with a sniff, curling into a ball on the chair. “At least we were, until I wasn’t useful to him anymore.”

  “Did you spy for him?” Melanie blurted, shocked to the limit. Had she known anything about the business world a month ago?

  “Huh?” Jill asked, dabbing at her eyes with an unpolished, bitten nail.

  “I’ve had my ideas robbed and my words stolen,” Melanie said in a bitter voice she hardly recognized as coming from her own throat.

  Jill shook her head. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Then what? Did you steal office supplies? Slit tires?” Melanie stopped herself. She wouldn’t become this sarcastic, nasty person.

  “I’m the saboteur.”

  Melanie had thought only a moment ago that she couldn’t be shocked again. Her Jill, who had hardly a brain in her head but was as sweet as a newborn kitten? It couldn’t be. “You were the one turning up the heat in the storage bay?”

  Jill nodded. “Jack persuaded me it was the only way to save his job.”

  “That doesn’t make sense to me.” It really didn’t. What did his job have to do with anything here?

  “He was going to lose his job when Professional Massage bought LeatherWorks. He makes good money, Melanie.”

  “So?” Now she understood everything. Another loser with a bloated paycheck ruins a good woman. “What does that have to do with you? He could have found another job.”

  “No. He only had such a good job because his father was a friend of Old Mr. Black. He’s never worked anywhere else. He was going to lose everything.”

  Melanie rested her chin on her hand. “You’re making no sense to me. You have a good job. What were you risking it for? You did an awful thing.”

  “Wouldn’t you risk everything for love?”

  “No,” Melanie said bluntly. “I wouldn’t.”

  “Yes, you would,” Jill sniffed. “You gave up the Olympics for your husband.”

  “I was an eighteen-year-old idiot. You’re twenty-two years old and I thought you were smarter than this. You broke the law. You could go to jail.”

  “Not if no one knows.”

  “Jack does. And you certainly can’t trust him.”

  “As long as Professional Massage can’t afford to buy LeatherWorks, he’s safe.”

  “You’re a fool to think Professional Massage is the only company who would purchase Jack’s company,” she spat. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” I can’t believe I trusted you.

  “Jack said Mr. Black would only sell to a local company, Melanie. I just wish everything I did would have worked out. Why did Jack stop loving me?” Jill burst into noisy tears.

  Melanie stood up, feeling old and tired. She ran a hand across Jill’s shuddering shoulder and turned away. “He never loved you, Jill. He was using you. There’s a shelf full of self-help books waiting for you at the bookstore on this particular topic.”

  Melanie started shoving things into her box, not knowing how to be kind to Jill. How could she have made such a terrible decision? Women did such stupid things for men. She knew, she had been there. As she carefully set her essential oil set into her box, she wondered if she was any smarter than Jill. After all, her words had been the final straw in delaying the sale. But it had been an accident because she trusted Rob. Did she love him? Even an honorable man, which she knew him to be, could really mess with a woman’s life. Getting close meant taking risks, like sharing secrets others could overhear.

  That night, Melanie walked around in a daze. She didn’t call Rob, didn’t call Brisa. Her mother called, but Melanie ended the half-hour conversation not feeling any more decisive. It seemed that all the major decisions of her life had been made with Brisa’s advice.

  She dialed her cousin’s number at ten p.m., but no one answered.

  “Brisa, it’s me,” she said into voice mail. “Call me, okay? I don’t know what to do.”

  Melanie stayed up until one a.m., watching the late night talk shows, but Brisa didn’t call.

  The next morning, Thursday, Melanie didn’t wake up automatically at six thirty a.m. She was getting used to being unemployed and this kind of sloth wouldn’t get her mortgage paid. After her shower at the sluggish hour of nine a.m. she looked up the unemployment office and went to tell her story in the hopes of getting an unemployment check if she decided against going to work for Rob. The caseworker didn’t hold out high hopes under the circumstances of her firing. It was one more nail in the coffin of her dream of a sex life. Wha
t had happened to her dreams of the wild and crazy life she had missed?

  She had dreamed about Rob last night, she remembered as she drove to the grocery store. It had been a weird Rapunzel-like fantasy with her up in a tower and him down below. He had looked totally hot in a form-fitting jerkin and tights. She wanted him to make love to her. But she didn’t want to be rescued.

  Arriving home, she set to work cleaning the living room. “It’s time to get on with it,” she said out loud. “I’m strong. Everything is going to be okay.”

  The doorbell rang behind her. Melanie turned around and opened it.

  “Melanie,” Brisa said. “I honked at you when you passed me at the corner.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” At the sight of her cousin’s beautiful, sympathetic face, she burst into tears.

  Brisa pulled her to the couch. “Sit down, hon. We’ll figure this out.”

  “Maybe we should pull out the tarot cards,” Melanie joked. “Didn’t you get any sleep last night?” she asked, taking a closer look at the bags under her cousin’s eyes.

  “I got a phone call last night from someone I had hoped I’d never hear from again. I turned the phone off after that, so I didn’t get your message until this morning. I’m sorry.”

  Melanie waved off the apology. “Who called?”

  Brisa shook her head. “Let’s not go there, okay? Let’s talk about you.”

  Melanie sighed and pulled out a Twinkie that had been hiding in plain sight under her glass coffee table. Brisa slapped it out of her hand.

  “I cleared out my desk and applied for unemployment,” Melanie said, salivating at the sight of the semi-smashed Twinkie lying helpless on her beige carpet.

  “Good for you!” Brisa’s frown at the near Twinkie orgy turned to a shy smile. “I had a good job interview yesterday.”

  “That’s great!” The note of optimism in Brisa’s voice heartened her. “Do you think you got it?”

  “It was just with a personnel department, but I think they’ll pass me on.”