Every year our firm holds a back to school event. We gather donations and materials to fill backpacks and buy clothes for the less fortunate children in the area. The firm has been doing it for many years — well before I even started working here — and it’s always a huge success.
Everyone can sponsor a child or make a donation. I give money so I can do it for many kids instead of only one. I set aside two hundred dollars each year for this event. I’m always glad to give money when I can.
I’m good at helping to be sure everything runs smoothly. Multiple games are set up for the kids as well as crafts. I’ve assigned volunteers to each area and by the time the event officially begins at eleven, the kids are swarming the area like they’re bees and it’s their hive.
Lucas has already beat me to the main tent, and Julian and a few of the interns have joined him. They’re setting up for the pepper eating contest. I don’t mind a pepper here and there but I can’t imagine eating as many as I can in one minute. I’d like to be able to keep all of my senses. And even though the weather is perfect outside, I can’t imagine sweating buckets while eating peppers. The men of the group sure seem excited.
“So which one of you is participating?” I wonder who the brave one will be.
Julian and Lucas both raise their hands. “I fully intend to drive anybody into the ground.” Lucas makes a hand gesture as though he is pushing the competition into the ground.
I can’t say I’m surprised at Lucas’s comment. I wouldn’t expect anything less. He seems kind of like the man’s man who will do anything he can to prove he’s as manly as they come.
“Are you planning on competing?” Julian sets down a plate of the peppers.
“I don’t think so. I like peppers in my Chinese food, but eating nothing but peppers? No, thank you.” My mouth is burning just looking at them.
“Are you afraid or something?” Lucas’ words slice through me.
First, he thinks he can come in and take my job from me. Now he questions my abilities at something as dumb as a pepper-eating contest. All he wants is to win and throw it in my face. I glare at him but don’t respond. I can’t let him know he’s pissing me off.
“It’s okay if you don’t compete,” Julian says to me. He’s pouring water in glasses and setting them next to each competitor’s spot. I always thought milk was what you were supposed to drink when you had something hot like that. I may know computers, but I guess I don’t know food.
“Are you guys challenging me?”
“No, no.” Lucas waves his hand at me. “I’m not trying to make you feel threatened.”
“I hardly feel threatened,” I say as I cross my arms and jut my hip out. How dare he even suggest that.
“She could’ve fooled me. Right, Julian?”
Now I can’t hold back how mad I am. I wanted to give Lucas the benefit of the doubt and possibly even befriend him. He wants me to compete. He thinks he can kick my butt. He really thinks that if we do this, he’s going to win.
“Fine.” I cave. “Set me a place. I’m in.” I hope I don’t regret this. A burning mouth when it’s nearing eighty degrees, sweating profusely in my work clothes, and maybe some canker sores after this is all done. No. No regrets at all.
“You’re doing this?” Kimmy comes racing up to me. “I think you’re nuts. I would never do that.”
“That’s what separates the girls from the women, Kimmy.” Julian clicks his teeth and pretends to shoot guns.
“That’s what separates us?” I ask. Not the almost twenty year age difference or the level or expertise or the fact that MASH is a TV show for me and for her it’s a grade school game where you determine your future on a piece of paper and whether or not you’ll live in a mansion, apartment, shack, or house? Sure. That’s what separates us.
“Cool it, Cass.”
“Don’t call me Cass,” I dart my eyes at Lucas, evil shooting out of them. I hate that nickname. The kids in middle school would say, “Cass, cass you’re such an ass.” I cried so many times in the bathroom. That’s why in high school I took it to a whole new level, changed my style to include skirts and heels, splashed on an appropriate amount of makeup, and even involved myself in some activities. I became pretty darn popular. No one even knew my mom was a drug addict, and I slept at random guys apartments half the time.
“Sorry.” He puts his hands up in surrender. “Seriously, though, are you sure you want to do this?”
“Why wouldn’t I? What’s so hard about it?”
“It’s not that it’s hard. It’s just really, really, hot.”
“I can handle plenty of hot things.” I wink at him and immediately wish I could take it back. Why am I flirting with him?
He steals a drink from one of the glasses. “Anyway, if you don’t do things like this often, it’s more difficult.”
“Do you participate in pepper-eating contests often?”
“Not peppers, specifically. But hot dogs, pies, barbecue sauces. It’s kind of what I do.”
He shrugs as though this is a normal daily activity for someone to do. I can imagine him in college at frat parties, drunk off his ass and downing twenty hot dogs in a minute. He’s so young, maybe he still does these things on the weekend.
“Well, eating hot peppers isn’t rocket science. I think I can figure this out.” I shove my finger in his face. “And kick your butt in the process.”
Kimmy and Julian ’s heads bounce between us like they’re at a tennis match. We’re probably giving them vertigo.
“Fine. We’ll see. Meet you back here in fifteen.” Lucas shoos my finger out of his face, and he and Julian march off.
I grab onto the back of the folding chair in front of me and shove it under the table. “Damnit!”
“Are you okay?” Kimmy offers her support. Why does Lucas get to me so much? Why does he feel the need to challenge me all the time?
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I rake my fingers through my hair. I should put it back. “Can you get me a rubber band?”
“Sure thing, Boss.”
At least someone still views me as a superior. The way Julian has latched onto Lucas I wonder if he even remembers he reports to me, not Lucas. I’ll admit, Lucas is easy to like — for most people. When he’s trying to prove you wrong all the time, he’s not all peaches and cream. I blow my hair out of my face and leave the tent. I can find the rubber band on my own and walk off my frustration in the meantime.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m seated next to Lucas, a pair of latex gloves on my plate. “What are these for?” I pick them up.
“Oh, you’re so cute,” Lucas says as he taps my knee.
“What?”
“Cassie, these are peppers. Hot peppers. They can burn your skin, too.”
He shakes his head as I say “Oh,” and look down in embarrassment. What was I thinking? What did I sign up for? I accept my stupidity as I slide on the gloves. The announcer, Danielle from Human Resources, explains the rules, and I already feel the beads of sweat on the back of my neck.
I’m ready. I think. I can’t back out. No. If I back out now, Lucas wins and I’ll never hear the end of it. I can’t put up with weeks of teasing from him. I’m doing this.
I pick up the first pepper as soon as Danielle announces we can begin. It’s not so bad. In fact, it’s not spicy at all. I take a few bites and chew it up and it’s down. This is a snap. I glance over at Lucas’ plate and he’s already on his third pepper and I haven’t even started the second. No time like the present. I take a bite. This one has a bit of a kick to it, but it’s not too bad. It’s tolerable. Okay, onto number three. I wince at the first bite. That was a tad rough. I slow my chewing and force it down.
Lucas is ahead of me by two peppers. He smiles at me and I smirk back at him. Just because he’s ahead doesn’t mean he’s going to win.
Number three. I take a bite and as soon as I swallow it, I start to cough.
“Are you okay?” Lucas asks.
“Yeah. Don�
�t talk to me. You’re the competition.” I won’t accept his pity.
“Whatever you say, Cass.”
Now I’m fuming. I just told him not to use that nickname. I take the next pepper and snap into it without a second thought. Before I can even begin chewing, the sweat dribbles from my forehead and down my cheek. Wow. This one is hot. Can I even get it down? Lucas is only one ahead of me now. I have to do this. I force it down, but not before I vomit a little bit in my mouth. If I puke, I’m out. I do the worst and most disgusting thing ever. I swallow it.
Three people have already quit and now me and Lucas are all that is left. Half the crowd is shouting his name while the other half is shouting mine. I can’t let my fans down. I wish I could see who they are. Between the heat and the sweat, my eyes are practically sewn shut.
“The last one is pretty hot. Want to call a truce?”
I stare at him. I could and then move on and not force my body into this, but I’ve come too far. “Never.”
I take the last pepper and bite into it with purpose. Lucas follows my lead and we stare each other down as we chew. Sweat pours down both our faces, and we can’t stop squinting our eyes. We both swallow at the same exact time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a tie!”
Lucas stands up and it takes me a minute. I’m miserable and my stomach is torturing me. I manage to stand and he takes my hand and lifts our arms in the air in victory. “Damn, girl, you sure held your own.”
A smile breaks through as he squeezes my hand. I turn my head and he’s looking right at me. His eyes are watering from the peppers, but through the puddle of water, a sparkle shines through.
“I’m tough as nails.”
Except when I’m not.
Chapter
Ten
A long night’s sleep is what was needed after burning my mouth and throat on the peppers. I think I’ll stay away from anything with pepper, even black pepper, for quite a while. The back to school event was a success, but I’m glad to be back into my routine. Straying from my day-to-day gets me into a bit of a tizzy sometimes. I welcome structure.
I’m at my desk peeking around some of the files. My end goal is to find the best solution to our problem without buying more server space. Lucas has a good idea, but I want the credit for this. Or even partial credit, maybe seventy percent me, and thirty percent him. I’ve given so many years to this company. Lucas can’t beat me to the punch. This project is mine.
Three cups of coffee later and my hair a ratted mess from racing my fingers through it in frustration, Lucas knocks on my door. I wave him in. Great. What the hell does he want? He can’t gloat about yesterday. We tied. No one won.
“Good morning! And it’s a great one, isn’t it?” He hops into the room.
Even with the florescent lights his skin is perfection and the most beautiful shade of brown. When he smiles, the right side twists up and the tip of his tongue pops through between his teeth. I hate him.
“I guess. What can I help you with?”
“Did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”
“What does that even mean? I’ve never understood that saying. So I get out of bed on the right instead of left. It doesn’t change my mood.”
He ignores me, and he’s right to because I’m not very happy to see him right now. I don’t like being interrupted when I’m trying to think. Especially if I’m trying to work in order to upstage him.
“Terrence and I went out for drinks last night to discuss the Pilot Project.”
My body weakens and my heart drops. “Oh? Was this a business meeting I wasn’t aware of?” I click through my calendar. “I don’t see a meeting request.”
He waves his hands at me. “It was very last minute. We stayed to help clean up after the back to school event, and I suggested drinks.”
I stand up, attempting to tower over him, but he’s still taller than me, even though I’m in heels. “I’m a part of this project, too. Why didn’t you call me?” My voice is shaking, rolling in like thunder.
“I checked your calendar. You had a pedicure the first time I wanted to do this and yesterday you left pretty soon after the contest.”
I love I can access my boss’ calendar if I need to, but the fact Lucas can see mine really bothers me. He doesn’t need to know what I’m doing and with whom. “My friend needed some time with me the other day, and you could have mentioned this to me any of the eight hours of every day I see you.”
“There’s no need to explain yourself.”
“Well, I think you should explain. I’m part of this, too, and should be involved in every step. You did this on purpose.”
“I swear, I didn’t.” He pulls at his collar. A sure tell. He knew very well what he was doing.
“What happened during this meeting?” I’ll bypass his sneaky method of this secret meeting, but I need every single detail.
“I presented my idea to Terrence —”
“You what? I thought I told you not to do that.”
“I did anyway. Sue me. This project needs to get moving. He loved it. We start next week.”
Next week? How does this reflect on me? I’ve been working on coming up with a solution for months; Lucas is here a mere month and he not only has a solution already, but we start implementing it in seven days. “Okay. What can I do?” My involvement is necessary.
“I can handle all the technical stuff.”
I close my mouth and inhale deeply, sure he can see the steam rising from my head. Of course he’ll handle the technical stuff because I am not technical at all. What a jackass. I want to be involved in that. I’m sure, though, that he already went over all of this with Terrence. All during his private meeting. It makes sense that Terrence’s nephew is lead on the project. “Great,” I respond through gritted teeth.
“We need an electrician to run the wires. Can you handle that?”
“You need me to call an electrician?”
He stares at me. “Is that a problem?”
Am I a 1950s housewife? I’m supposed to call the electrician like a good wife does. What else can I do for you, dear husband? This guy really corks me. Unfortunately, if I want to stay up-to-date and have a say at all in this project, I need to do this. “Fine.”
“Thanks! Let me know as soon as you have it lined up.” He taps his fingers on my desk and a weird sensation works through my body as I take note of their size. I lick my lips, my frustration turning to curiosity. He shuts the door behind him, pulling me out of my trance.
Lucas leaves the room and once the goosebumps erase from my skin, the anger finds its way back in. An electrician. Like I have nothing better to do than spend my time searching for an electrician.
I sit back at my desk, open Google, and type “Electricians in Milwaukee, WI.” A map pops up with a few listings. The first one has a rating of four out of five stars, but only six reviews. The second has a few reviews, but no rating. The third is one we’ve used in the past, and I’d prefer not to do business with again. I click to see more and a larger map appears on the right with a bunch of listings on the left. I scroll past most until one catches my eye. KLM Electric. Isn’t that the name of Keith’s business?
I have his business card in my purse. Sure enough, that’s him. He has a four and a half star rating. I read through the reviews.
Fast and resourceful.
Trustworthy.
Reasonably priced.
Knowledgeable, on time, and a pleasure to work with.
Should I call this guy? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I tossed some work his way. The reviews are great, and if I went with him, we could get moving on the project instead of sitting around another month while I gather quotes. Will he even remember who I am?
I crease the business card as I contemplate this. Ugh. Why is this a struggle? Fine. Fine. I’ll call.
He picks up on the second ring. “Keith here.”
His voice is deeper than I remember. “Keith? Hi. I’m no
t sure if you remember me. This is Cassie.”
“Oh! From the ladies only group.”
I deserve that. “Yeah, about that —”
“It’s fine. I understand, I guess. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m in need of an electrician. Do you think you could help me out?”
“What kind of project?”
“At my work. We’re going to be building server space, and I need someone to come in and run the electrical. I don’t know how long it will take, but I need you to start in a few weeks.” The previous tenants should be out in a few days, giving us some time to clean up and tear down what we need to before he comes in.
“Do you want me to come out and give you a quote?”
I probably should, but I want to get the project moving and done with, and maybe then Lucas will be out of my hair. I think the reviews speak for themselves and he’s in good standing with the Better Business Bureau. “No, it’s fine. I’ll pay you what you bill.”
“What if I bill five hundred thousand dollars?”
“I know you won’t do that. You’ll charge me what’s fair.”
“Do you know what’s fair?”
“What?” I can’t wait to hear what this guy thinks is fair.
“You letting me join your group. Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I don’t need a support group.”
How is he still on this? He came to us over a month ago. We haven’t seen him since. “I thought you let that go. You never came back.”
“Was I supposed to? You kicked me out. It seems to me I’m not welcome.”
I never want to come across as an unwelcoming person. He has to consider the circumstances, though. And he caught me at a really bad time. Lucas, my mom, it all was blowing up in my face. He was not what I needed at that moment.
“I never said that. I think you’d be better off in a group with only men, though.”
“Men don’t know anything. I need a woman’s insight.”
He knows what he’s talking about there. Of course, bringing a man into the group would also help with us gaining a man’s opinion on things. Maybe it’s not a bad idea. I don’t know, though. He’d be working with me and part of the group. My personal and professional life don’t cross unlike my boss and his nephew.
Dating For Decades Page 6