Just A Little Romance

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Just A Little Romance Page 16

by Mary Jane Russell


  “Mom!”

  “His brother calls him little Bobby Flay.” Lisa rubbed his head. “I won’t be able to do that much longer. He’ll be too tall.”

  “I think you have a great idea. Sign me up.” Sam was serious. “How far along are you with a startup loan, or do you have investors? Have you put together a business plan?”

  Lisa shook her head. “I don’t even know what a business plan looks like. It was my New Year’s resolution to get my ass in gear, find out what’s involved in starting a business, and do something before the end of the year.”

  Sam stood and motioned Lisa and Alex to follow her to the conference room. Just inside the door was half a wall of brochures. Sam skimmed the titles and picked out several. “Okay. The first thing you need to do is call back tomorrow when Tambor is here and sign up for a Business 101 class. It walks you through market research and business plans.” She handed Lisa the accompanying brochure. “This will come later, but you might want to skim it now. The state has several loan programs in place. This is one time being a woman really helps.” Sam handed her another pamphlet. “And this is about us. The layout of the building, our bylaws, how we set rents, and the services we provide.”

  The door from the main building opened into the conference room. “Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” Olivia Holland breezed into the room and looked over her bifocals at Sam and Lisa. She raised her eyebrows. “You best watch those services. Don’t kiss on the first date and be dumped like I was.” She looked Lisa up and down. “Drop in and see me next time you’re here alone.” She went to the signup sheet on the cork board and penciled in a meeting on the schedule. “Have fun, girls. Young man.” She closed the door behind her.

  “I don’t think so,” Lisa said.

  Sam sputtered, trying to give a reasonable explanation. “It was just dinner and what she considered a kiss.”

  Alex processed the exchange and returned to the marketing brochure for the incubator’s tenant that wrote software applications for NASA. “This is way cool.”

  Lisa held a hand up toward Sam. “I don’t want to know. It’s none of my concern. Let’s stay on track and keep what’s between us strictly business.”

  Sam nodded. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Lisa tucked her chin and raised her eyes to look at Sam.

  “You weren’t the only one who made a New Year’s resolution,” Sam said. “I’m focusing on work and not forcing a relationship just because I want to be in one.”

  “Good for you.” Lisa returned to the reception area. “Dating is tough,” she said as she put her coat on.

  “Mom knows about that,” Alex said. He grinned at his mother. “She always picks losers.”

  Lisa pushed him toward the exit.

  “Working and running a small business will be all the commitment she’ll have time for, other than you,” Sam said.

  Lisa looked at Sam intently. “I think we’ll survive. Thanks for your help. You’ve definitely given me what I came looking for today.”

  Sam handed Lisa two business cards. “Call Tambor and sign up for a class. If you have any questions about the information I gave you, call me and I’ll gladly help you.”

  Lisa tucked the brochures in her tote bag and waved as she left the building.

  Sam hummed as she returned to her desk and watched Lisa drive away. “Two boys,” Sam said, shaking her head.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Sam tapped her fingernails against the Nissan’s steering wheel. She held her hand up and looked—time for a trim again. She admired long fingernails on others but detested more than a sixteenth of an inch of nail above her own fingertips. It had nothing to do with being a lesbian. She simply found nail in conflict with fingertip worrisome.

  She had decided to leave work early and run errands. There had finally been a break in January’s cold that allowed her to venture outside in a blouse and coat without intervening layers. She intended to enjoy the false spring-like temperature that was in sharp contrast to the dormant landscaping everywhere.

  Sam glanced in her rearview mirror as she slowed to turn in at her bank. A boxy white sedan mimicked her turn but pulled into a parking space rather than queue up in the drive-thru lane. Sam cashed the refund check she wasn’t sure why she had received from her insurance company. It was a nuisance to deal with but enough to pay for her lunch.

  Sam sighed as she returned to the heavy flow of traffic. She wasn’t the only one who had taken an afternoon off. Where to indulge in too many calories was the next dilemma. What was it about a Big Mac that appealed so to her taste while at the same time giving her nutritional chills? She ordered water rather than a milkshake and felt slightly virtuous.

  Sam looked up as she juggled opening the box to grab the hamburger while waiting to rejoin traffic. Again, a boxy white car was behind her. Sam stared—a Crown Vic. She drove toward the post office, gave a signal to turn, and watched the signal flash on the white car. She sped up. The big Ford stayed a car length off her bumper.

  “Uh-oh,” Sam said. Her gaze darted between front windshield and rearview mirror, checking the car shadowing her as she ate and made several right turns onto side streets. She didn’t lose the white Ford.

  “Okay, I’ve had enough.” Sam signaled and pulled to the shoulder of an older subdivision three blocks over from Route 60. She opened the door and stood, brushing sesame seeds off her coat as the white car pulled in behind her.

  Sam walked directly to the driver’s window, peering at the figure through the windshield. To her surprise and relief, it wasn’t KD.

  The window rolled down.

  Sam bent over. “May I ask why you’re following me?”

  The driver was a woman in her mid-thirties with short brown hair obviously cut by a barber, rectangular eyeglasses, and a square face. “I was worried about you. You haven’t responded to any of my messages on Match lately.”

  Sam inwardly groaned. “I haven’t been on Match this year. Doesn’t my account show as inactive?”

  “But you’ve always answered me within a few days before. I’m Beverly Leavitt—Bevgun. I’m the deputy from Lexington.” The woman smiled, revealing a wide gap between her two front teeth. Sam thought of the old photos of Amelia Earhart.

  “Good heavens. I haven’t sent you anything since last fall.” Sam backed away as Beverly opened her door and stood to face Sam. Sam was unnerved to look up at a woman slightly taller than herself. “How did you find me?”

  Beverly hooked her thumbs in the waist of her jeans. Sam had a vision of a uniform and Sam Browne utility belt. “It wasn’t difficult. You identified living in the metro Richmond area, and there aren’t that many business incubators in the state. I found your full name on the county’s Web site and looked you up through newspaper articles.”

  “Aren’t you just a Ted Bundy?” Sam shivered.

  “So how about hanging out the rest of the afternoon and going to dinner with me tonight? I took a chance on driving over the mountains on my day off.” Beverly leaned casually against the door of the car so that she was on eye level with Sam.

  Sam crossed her arms. “Beverly, I’ve already told you I’m not interested in a distance relationship.”

  “Oh, I get it. You’re dating someone else. That’s okay. I don’t expect you to be exclusive until you get to know me a lot better.” She winked.

  Sam stepped back. “You’re not listening. It’s my own fault for trying to be polite instead of blunt. I answered your messages as a courtesy. I’m not interested in dating you.”

  Beverly stood to her full height, giving up on flirting. “So I’m not good enough for you. I’ve seen your house and where you work. So what if I still live at home and only work part time? I’m a catch.”

  Sam held up her hand. “Okay, that’s way too much information. Now you’re just creeping me out. Get in your car, drive safely home, and leave me alone.”

  Beverly began to protest. A silver minivan slowed in pass
ing with the driver gawking as she turned into a driveway two houses down the street.

  Sam stared at Beverly. “No means no. Do not come here and cause me problems. You will be on the opposite end of a restraining order than is usual for you. Do you want that showing up on your record?”

  “Bitch! You wouldn’t.” Beverly returned to the driver’s seat.

  “I most certainly would.” Sam glanced deliberately at the license plate of the Crown Vic. “I don’t want to see you or this vehicle near me again.”

  Beverly jammed the stick into reverse, backed up, and stomped the accelerator as she pulled into the driving lane.

  Sam smiled wanly at the woman who had paused to watch the drama playing out on the street after removing her toddler from the safety seat of the minivan.

  “Sorry,” Sam said, waving as she quickly returned to her car. She glanced back and saw the little girl waving back as her mother pulled her toward the house.

  Sam muttered to herself. “Is it a gift or a curse to attract all the wrong women? I didn’t even go out with that one and she pulled the crazy shit on me I’ve come to expect after a first date.” Sam gripped the steering wheel tighter. “No more Internet singles for me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Sam had always enjoyed teaching, whether it was working with eager business students at the area high schools or wary entrepreneurs who held day jobs. This was the first night of what showed on the incubator’s business plan as a third-quarter class—she had learned to start in early February, giving a thirty-day grace period to the holidays and end-of-year closeouts.

  She leaned against the single table at the front of the room as she looked about the training room, smiling as she made eye contact with the adults filling the seats at the tables. The room was large enough to position a course notebook and goody bag at every other seat and still accommodate the full contingency of thirty students.

  Sam knew from the start that the group was too large, but she preferred the dynamics of interaction between many students to drawing out discussions from a small group. The signups covered a broad spectrum from those in retirement seeking yet another career to those fresh out of college who had been unable to get on with an area employer.

  Sam watched each new arrival. She was on edge not about the curriculum but about one of the last students to complete an application. Now to see if she actually showed up. Sam watched the faces of those who immediately opened the bulging notebook and thumbed through all the pages.

  Sam caught sight of spiked blond hair and forced herself not to grin like a teenager with a bad crush. The only seats remaining were in the middle of the room. Sam looked at her wristwatch, then skimmed the room, noting only one empty setting. “We’ll begin on time.” She waited for the room to quiet down. “You’re adults. Come and go as needed, just try to do so quietly, please. I know the first priority for most of you is being dismissed on time, so we’ll do a full hour—one lesson—before taking a fifteen-minute break, then come back for the second half of class to have you out on time. I’ll stay as late as anyone needs and answer individual questions afterward. Try to limit questions during class to broad issues that affect everyone.” She was pleased to see chins bobbing.

  “If you’ve looked at your notebook, you can see that our course work is in sixteen divisions—evaluating potential of your idea, writing business plans, organization of companies, managing employees, licenses, insurance, bricks and mortar, financing, accounting practices, e-commerce, franchises, international sales, marketing, communicating, expansion, and home-based businesses.” Sam ticked off topics on her fingers. “Was that sixteen?”

  “Whew!” There was a comedian in the front row. Chuckles rippled across the room.

  Sam nodded. “Exactly. This is an intensive eight-week course. We hit the ground running tonight. You’ll be expected to keep up with the assignments. We have a computer lab here in the building for our tenants that you will have access to. Included in the bag beside your notebook, once you get past pens and pads I coerce from local companies, is my business card. Call me if you have questions or issues between classes.” She leaned forward on the podium. “I know this material. I want you to learn it and put it into everyday practice as you operate a successful business.”

  “What’s the failure rate for startup small businesses?” Again, from the front row.

  “With or without a course such as this?” Sam said. She waited for the chuckles to subside. “That’s why this class is so important. You can avoid the easy mistakes, and frankly, if you can’t make it through an eight-week class, you likely don’t have the dedication to keep a small business operating profitably.” Sam paused for comments. “Let’s get started.”

  Throughout the first hour, Sam tried to keep her eyes toward the front or back rows, avoiding Lisa. She couldn’t help herself from an occasional look at the woman. Lisa was into the material, writing furiously in her notebook, as well as on a pad of grid paper from a local engineering group.

  Sam thought Lisa’s idea for gourmet meals for professionals and shut-ins was a winner. She knew of several similar franchises, but none had ventured into the Richmond area so far. She also suspected that the personalization based on Lisa’s medical background would be a successful draw. Sam hoped for Ava’s sake that Lisa would start her business soon.

  The break sent most of the women in search of the restroom and the men to the hallway with cell phones.

  Lisa finished the last of her jotting and looked up at Sam. “Damn, woman, how do you go nonstop like that without notes?”

  Sam smiled. “Years of practice and passion for what I do.”

  Lisa nodded. “That much is obvious.” She dropped the pen, shaking the cramps from her hand as she leaned back in the chair. “I have to admit I’m impressed.”

  Sam blushed. She took a long drink from her water bottle.

  “That makes me thirsty. I’ll be right back.” Lisa grinned and left the room.

  It was a good sign that everyone returned. Even the empty seat was filled when they resumed class.

  Sam repeated the hourlong process. “By next week, I want each of you to have a draft of a business plan. That plan will evolve as we go along and be the final assignment that you hand in to earn your certificate. There are examples online, but remember those are only models. Class dismissed, drive safely. You guys have been excellent tonight. Don’t be overwhelmed.”

  Sam felt sorry for the majority of the class because they would not be successful, at least not with their first business idea. They left the room stunned, talking quietly to one another. This was no course to sleep through.

  Again, Lisa stayed behind. “You weren’t kidding. You purposely make this a tough class.”

  Sam shrugged. “Guilty. What’s that old expression—have to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

  “How about piss or get off the pot?” Lisa said.

  “Don’t be discouraged.” Sam gathered her books.

  Lisa blew air between her lips. “I’m not. Just the opposite. This is all fascinating. I’ve been bumming old business mags that the docs leave lying around their waiting rooms. Starting a business is a whole different world from practicing medicine.”

  Sam smiled. “I think your timing is perfect.”

  Kelly stopped in the doorway of the classroom. “How about my timing?” She held up her flashlight. “May I walk you ladies to your vehicles? You’re the last two in the building.”

  Lisa looked over her shoulder as she gathered her materials and filled her tote bag. She turned back to Sam and raised her eyebrows.

  “Lisa Ramey, this is Kelly Haskins, our security guard and handy woman,” Sam said, dropping her gaze from Lisa’s. “I just have to stop by my office for my coat and briefcase.”

  Lisa nodded to Kelly as she passed by her.

  “My pleasure.” Kelly observed Lisa from behind and gave Sam a wink, then swept her arm toward the hall and waited for Sam to walk with Lisa toward the
front of the building.

  Lisa lowered her voice. “Spend a lot of late nights here at work?” She asked Sam the question already knowing the answer.

  Kelly chuckled and spoke before Sam could respond. “Late nights but not what I consider work involved.”

  Sam shot a look over her shoulder, trying to silence Kelly.

  Lisa didn’t slow her pace. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Kelly leaned close to Lisa’s ear. “Oh, I’m full of surprises. That’s why Sam doesn’t get tired of me like all the others. How long have we been staying late, Sam, on and off for almost two years?”

  Sam stopped so that Kelly ran into her as Lisa continued alone. “Stop it right now!” In trying to keep her voice low, she hissed the words at Kelly.

  Kelly shrugged. “I’m jealous.”

  “Bite me.” Sam held up her hand to stop Kelly’s easy retort. Sam double-timed to catch up with Lisa. “Sorry.”

  “What do you have to be sorry about?” Lisa paused in the reception area as Sam continued to her office. Her hand beat Kelly’s to the push bar on the door. “I can manage,” Lisa said to Kelly.

  “I bet you can.” Kelly pushed through the other door. “I’ll wait outside where it’s not so chilly.” She faked a shiver.

  Lisa looked at Sam as she put her coat on. “You don’t have a damn thing to be sorry about. You like to play around. I get it. You don’t let a woman cross your path without hitting on her. You’re so busy sampling everything that you don’t savor anyone. I bet you think fast food is the best meal in town.” Lisa threw up her free hand. “I can’t believe I almost fell for it. When am I going to learn to trust my first instincts about someone?” She entered the air lock between pairs of doors. “I can find my own damn car if you two have better things to do,” she said to Kelly.

  “See you next week,” Sam said as Lisa stalked away. “I hope,” she said to herself. “You,” she jabbed her finger into Kelly’s shoulder, “pushed me too far tonight.”

 

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