Trouble With Tonya

by Lorna Michaels

  As they continued down the hall, Tonya heard children’s voices. Now Kirk opened a door painted bright yellow and they entered a large, sunny room filled with a dozen children, ranging from infants to preschoolers. Walls the same cheery yellow as the door were decorated with nursery rhyme characters. Here the shelves overflowed with toys. In the middle of the room, two toddlers fought over a stuffed animal, in one corn a sad-looking youngster sat with his thumb in his mouth, and in another corner a woman crooned to an infant as she changed him.

  Puzzled, Tonya turned to Kirk. “I thought you worked with older kids.”

  “These are the children of some of those older kids.”

  “The children?” she echoed.

  “Teenage pregnancy. Around here it’s almost a badge of honor.”

  “Oh,” she muttered.

  “New world for you, huh?” he said.

  Of course it was, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t learn to fit in. Provided she wanted to. Which, she reminded herself, she didn’t.

  They left the nursery and visited a workshop, an auditorium, a games room with table tennis and a pool table, and a kitchen, where the smell of coffee drifted to Tonya’s nostrils. “Want a cup?” Kirk asked. He sounded impatient, as if he was eager to end the tour and get back to whatever he had to do.

  Obstinately, she decided to accept his offer. “Yes, thanks.” He poured her a cup and came close to hand it to her. Too close. Tonya took a step back.

  Kirk moved forward and stopped, one arm resting on the wall beside her. “So, what do you think?” he asked.

  “I think the center has potential.”

  “I meant, are you planning to come back?”

  He clearly hoped she wasn’t. She ought to take on the job, just to show him she could do it. She lifted her chin. “You heard me earlier. I haven’t decided.”

  “You’d better ditch the Jag if you do. That buggy won’t last a day around here.”

  “Different car, different clothes.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Maybe I should cut my hair, too.”

  “No.” His fingers grazed the ends of her hair, and though she barely felt their touch, Tonya shivered. For a moment they stared at each other, neither of them moving or speaking. Then Kirk dropped his hand, and his eyes, which had darkened from brown to black, turned cool again.

  To distract herself from the confusing feelings his touch engendered, Tonya groped for the anger she’d felt earlier. “You’re trying to talk me out of coming,” she accused.

  He shrugged. “Why would I do that?”

  “You tell me,” she challenged.

  “Okay, I’ll be straight with you,” he said, moving fractionally closer.

  She felt the heat of his body, saw the pulse in his throat. For a moment, she felt like a defenseless animal, caught in the gaze of a sleek, predatory tiger. She wanted to shrink back, but she caught herself. Instead, she stared at him coolly. “Do that.”

  His mouth hardened. “This isn’t the country dub. You walk out the door here, you run into crack dealers, gangs, maybe a teenage girl selling herself for drug money.”

  Tonya swallowed, but she refused to let him unnerve her. “So?”

  “So maybe you don’t belong here.”

  “You don’t know that. Besides, it’s my decision.”

  He shrugged again. “Right”

  Abruptly, Tonya stepped around him and set down the untasted coffee. “Thanks for the tour,” she said over her shoulder as she headed for the door. Kirk followed her out of the kitchen and fell into step beside her as she hurried down the hall. “I can find my way out,” she told him, her voice still frosty.

  He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, tossed them up and caught them. “Back parking lot’s kept locked.”

  She’d have to endure his company for another few minutes, she thought crossly, keeping her eyes forward. She wouldn’t stare at those muscular arms, wouldn’t speculate about how those blunt fingers might feel on her skin. Why should she? She didn’t like Kirk Butler at all.

  But as she drove out of the parking lot a few minutes later, she was appalled to find herself watching him in the rearview mirror as he relocked the gate. All right, nothing was wrong with appreciating a healthy male animal, she told herself, as long as you didn’t venture too close. She didn’t intend to do that, even though she’d be working side by side with him at the OK Center.

  Tonya blinked. Working...where?

  Here.

  Somewhere between the kitchen and her car, she’d made her decision. As of Monday morning, she’d be the Brewster in residence here. The center staff—and Kirk in particular—would just have to get used to it.

  KIRK STALKED into the building and down the hall to Ramon’s office, where Ramon and Ladonna were meeting over brown-bag lunches. He sat down and snitched a handful of potato chips from Ladonna.

  She batted his hand away. “How’d the grand tour go?”

  He shrugged. “She hasn’t made up her mind about coming back.”

  “What do you think she’s gonna decide?”

  Kirk scowled and grabbed another chip. “Who knows?”

  “Whatever she does, we’ll still get the money, won’t we?” Ladonna asked with a worried frown.

  “Sure,” Ramon said.

  “Maybe they’ll send someone more...appropriate,” Ladonna offered, then held out a newspaper clipping. “I found this in Monday’s Express when I put the papers out for recycling.” She cleared her throat “‘Tonya Brewster, wearing a minidress by Ar-Armani...’” She looked up. “What the heck is Armani? Sounds like a pasta dish.” Then she continued. “‘Was seen enjoying the music at the annual fund-raiser for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation at the Ritz Carlton.”’

  Ramon snatched the article and let out a long, low whistle. “Mamacita! Look at those legs.”

  He tossed the paper to Kirk, who took it reluctantly. He’d already had an eye-popping view of Tonya Brewster’s legs when he’d been on his knees in the pothole, and the vivid picture had imprinted itself firmly on his mind. He also had a clear memory of the silkiness of her long dark hair, the exotic fragrance of the perfume she wore. And he hated it.

  Ramon peered at the article again over Kirk’s shoulder. “That’s some blue-haired lady.”

  Kirk balled the paper up and tossed it in the trash. “She looks like a damn centerfold,” he muttered.

  “Prom queen,” Ladonna corrected.

  “Whatever.”

  “What’s eatin’ you?” Ramon asked, gazing at Kirk with narrowed eyes. “You usually go for that type.”

  “Not here. This is business.” Frustrated, Kirk glanced around the room. “We’d be a lot better off if she looked like we expected. Can’t you see what kind of problems she’ll cause?”

  Blank gazes met his. Then Ladonna said, “Yeah, the boys—”

  “Right. One look at her and their hormones are gonna kick in big time.” He sighed. “And if she doesn’t stir them up, her car will.”

  “Jaguar,” Ladonna said appreciatively. “Fire engine red. Mmm-mmm.”

  “Yeah?” Ramon’s eyes lit up.

  “See?” Kirk said. “Even you two could get whipped into a frenzy over the car.” He glanced at Ramon with narrowed eyes. Not to mention Tonya herself.

  “Maybe I should talk to her,” Ladonna mused. “You know, woman to woman.”

  “I already told her to find a different set of wheels if she comes back,” Kirk said. “And to wear jeans.” He didn’t add that he’d told her she didn’t belong here.

  “Hey, let’s look on the bright side,” Ramon suggested. “They could have sent somebody worse.”

  Ladonna nodded. “Some Pollyanna type who wants to rehabilitate the dear little children of the ghetto.”

  Ramon tossed his lunch bag in the trash and leaned back in his chair. “She’ll be okay. And like Kirk said the other day, she’ll be out of our hair before too long.”

  Hair, Kirk thought. Back in the kitchen
, he’d itched to comb his fingers through her hair, bury his face in it. He’d had to force himself to drop his hand.

  After lunch, he marched back to his office and slammed the door behind him. Instead of sitting down to work, he stood at the window, staring out at the yard without seeing anything. He hadn’t felt this restless, this edgy, in a long time. Anger simmered in his veins. Anger at her. Finding a calm space for himself, finding the calm inside himself hadn’t been easy. Now she was going to disrupt his life. And he was frustrated with himself because he wouldn’t be able to prevent it.

  His eyes finally focused on the empty basketball court, then on the ball that lay in the corn of his office. He needed to let out some of that anger. He grabbed the ball and started outside.

  Ramon and Ladonna still believed what he’d said the other day, that Tonya wouldn’t last long here. But they hadn’t seen what he had—the look of stubbornness that had appeared on that pretty face. He sighed. Six months of supervision, the Brewster Foundation had stipulated. He had a feeling, with Tonya Brewster around, he would be shooting a lot of baskets in the next six months.

  “OUCH! BEHAVE YOURSELF.” Tonya shook her finger at the kitten, who had sunk his sharp little claws into her leg. Kneeling, she picked him up and rubbed his tummy.

  The kitten unsheathed his claws again and growled.

  “You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” Tonya rolled him over on his back.

  Instantly, the kitten turned over and sprang to his feet, his back arched high. When Tonya made no move, he crouched and stared at her.

  “You little tiger,” she said, and her thoughts returned to Kirk. Ladonna had called him a pussycat, but in Tonya’s mind, he too was a tiger. She grinned. “I think I’ll call you Butler.” She scooped up the kitten, put him in the utility room and shut the door. She’d better hurry or she’d be late for dinner at her grandparents’.

  After a ten-minute search for her car keys, she dashed out, her watch telling her she had only a few minutes until dinnertime. Nevertheless, when she passed a florist with a sign in the window advertising spring blooms, she couldn’t resist stopping to buy a bouquet of delicate purple irises. Her grandmother loved flowers.

  She arrived only fifteen minutes late—a record. When she pulled into the circular drive in front of her grandparents’ graceful white antebellum mansion, she saw that Sam and Wade had already arrived. Sam’s new husband had a penchant for punctuality. In fact, he’d taken to calling Tonya “Rabbit,” telling her she reminded him of the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. He’d even taken to singing to her, “I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date,” when the urge struck. Tonya hoped he’d forgo the concert tonight.

  She breezed into the living room and bestowed kisses and apologies all around. “I hope dinner isn’t ruined,” she told her grandmother as she handed her the flowers.

  Martha Brewster exclaimed over the bouquet and shook her head. “I always plan meals late when you’re coming, dear.”

  “How’d your visit to Our Kids go?” Clint asked as Tonya sat on the couch.

  She decided to omit mentioning the incident with the car. “The staff was polite, but they didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms.”

  “I’m not surprised,” her grandfather said. “I’m sure they don’t like the strings we’ve attached to the grant, but they have no choice. They don’t have a track record. They’ve only been in operation a couple of years. I’m not willing to give them a blank check until they prove their worth to me.” He sipped his bourbon. “You’ll need to show them you’re not there to run the place, just to keep an eye on them.”

  “I intend to.”

  Her grandfather nodded, looking pleased.

  Across the room, Sam’s eyes widened. Not surprising. Only yesterday Tonya had told her she had no intention of working at the OK Center. Tonya gave her a bland smile before she turned back to her grandfather. “I’ll need a different car.”

  “Good idea,” Wade Phillips said. “That neighborhood has one of the highest crime rates in the city. Kids over there don’t stop at stealing hubcaps.” He stretched his long legs in front of him and grinned lazily at Tonya. “I’m thinking of trading my little Toyota pickup for a new one. I could hold on to it and let you use it if you could stand driving it after getting used to a Jag.”

  “I guess it won’t kill me.”

  He grinned. “It’s a deal, then.” More serious now, he continued, “You have to be careful in that neighborhood, you know. Keep your doors locked. Drive in the center lane. That way, you’re not as likely to get forced off the road. Do you still have that alarm I gave you?” When she nodded, he added, “Check the battery.”

  Tonya smiled to herself. The battery worked just fine.

  “If anyone approaches you, use it.”

  She didn’t mention that she already had, with interesting results.

  Later, after dinner, Sam pulled Tonya aside. “I thought you were dead set against working at that agency. What made you change your mind?”

  “The challenge.”

  Sam raised a brow.

  “They don’t want me there.”

  “You heard what Granddad said. They wouldn’t want anyone there.”

  “No, it’s me specifically.”

  “You can’t take this personally,” Sam began, then turned as her husband came up and put an arm around her shoulder. For a moment, she seemed to forget what she was about to say as she gazed into Wade’s eyes.

  Tonya felt a flash of envy. She often forgot what she was going to say, but not for such a romantic reason; she just lost her train of thought.

  Sam blinked, then said, “Tonya thinks the people at the Our Kids Center dislike her personally.”

  “Well, one of them in particular. He...he was just so antagonistic. He told me I didn’t belong there.”

  “Want me to beat him up?” Wade offered.

  Tonya grinned. “Yeah. No, maybe not He looks pretty tough even for you. He’s big.” She spread her arms. “Really big—”

  “Brass knuckles should do it.”

  “And predatory.”

  “Ah,” Sam said, watching her. “A bad boy. He sounds intriguing.”

  Tonya didn’t comment on that.

  “Why don’t you hang on a week before you have Wade beat him up,” Sam suggested. “See if you can tame him first.”

  “Good idea,” Tonya said, then chuckled. “I named my cat after him. Butler. Kirk Butler.”

  “Butler,” Wade muttered. “Name sounds familiar.”

  Tonya tossed her hair back as they walked into the living room. “You probably heard it from one of your...what do you call informants? Stoolies? Someone at the state prison.”

  Wade burst out laughing. “Poor guy. You’re gonna give him a hard time, Rabbit.”

  “Yep,” Tonya said. “I expect I will.”

  THE NEXT MORNING when she called the OK Center, Kirk Butler answered the phone. She recognized his distinctive growl immediately. “Good morning. This is Tonya Brewster,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  He sounded as if he had no idea who she was. She could answer in the same impersonal tone, but she was determined to win these people over, even the tiger. “How are you, Kirk?” she asked brightly.

  “Um, fine.”

  Surprised I recognized your voice, aren’t you? “I wanted to let you know I’ll be starting Monday.”

  “You decided to come, then?”

  She couldn’t tell from his voice how he felt about her statement...but she could guess. She smiled to herself. “If you’ll remind Ramon that I’ll need an office—”

  “I’ll take care of it”

  “Thanks. See you Monday.”

  She hung up and scooped up the cat, who purred noisily, then opened the door of her closet. “He won’t believe it when I drive up, kitty.”

  No more classy Jaguar. She’d drive Wade’s pickup. And no more nine-to-five suit. She surveyed her wardrobe and made her choice: a sligh
tly faded T-shirt from Caneel Bay Resort in the Virgin Islands and a pair of designer jeans with a strategic tear at the knee. With a satisfied smile, she tossed the clothes on the dresser. She’d fit right in at the OK Center.

  3

  SHE’D NEVER FIT IN HERE, Kirk thought as he stood at his window and watched Tonya lug two bags into the building. She’d driven a pickup today; though it was a two-year-old model, it still looked spanking new. She’d worn jeans and a T-shirt but they were designer duds, and she still carried that damn purse with those interlocking Cs that shouted, “Cold cash.” Not only were her clothes too fancy, but those damn jeans clung as if they’d been spray painted on. And the T-shirt... that didn’t even bear thinking about

  He wondered what she carried in those paper bags. Something for her office, no doubt. An elaborate leather desk set worth as much as his paycheck. Or a brass nameplate for the door. He knew he was being petty, but he couldn’t seem to help it He let out a breath and stepped back from the window. The best way to deal with the irritation she evoked, he concluded, was to avoid her.

  Even so, he found himself thinking about her as the morning progressed, wondering what she was doing, inventing reasons to stroll past her office. The first time, he glanced inside and saw that the room was empty. One of the paper bags lay on the desk with notebooks, pencils, a dictionary and other office supplies spilling out of it. When he passed by again later, the door was shut, but he heard the sound of laughter, male and female. He loitered at the water fountain, read and reread the notices on the hallway bulletin board, and cursed his curiosity. At last the door opened and Ramon ambled out, his face wreathed with a smile.

  He saw Kirk and raised a hand in greeting. Kirk didn’t return the greeting or the smile.

  “Classy lady,” Ramon remarked as he continued toward the front of the building.

  So she’d already charmed one of the staff.

  “I invited her to join us at the Rotary Club banquet this evening. She was impressed when I told her we were getting an award.”