Too Close to Touch

by Georgia Beers

  Kylie hesitated. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She didn’t look up from her work. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Okay. Have a good night.”

  Gretchen heard Kylie getting her things together, the sound of her footsteps clicking down the hall. She inhaled with effort, and exhaled slowly. One day, she thought. I’ve been here for exactly one day and I’ve already had to wear my bitch hat. That’s got to be a record.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "So that’s how it’s going to be, huh? Goddamn fucking bitch.” Mick couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so pissed off. Or so disappointed. The Gretchen she’d met at the Widow on Saturday and the Gretchen she’d met on the fourth floor half an hour ago certainly looked like the same person, but wow…if she didn’t know better, she’d think the woman had a split personality.

  “Goddamn fucking bitch,” she muttered again as she maneuvered her SUV along the expressway. The late April weather held hints of spring, but the lawns were brown and the roads were dirty, perfectly suiting Mick’s mood. “Who the hell does she think she is?” She picked up her cell phone and pushed two buttons, speed-dialing the same number she called daily, sometimes half a dozen times.

  Kylie picked up after half a ring. “Hey.”

  “What the fuck is the matter with your new boss, Ky?” Kylie sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mick. I don’t know her yet.”

  “Well, Jesus Christ. Could she be more of a bitch?”

  “I guess she just wanted her stuff.”

  Mick bit back a snide comment, not wanting to transfer her anger at Gretchen onto her best friend. “Then she shouldn’t have shipped her personal shit to work, God damn it.”

  “I know.”

  “My responsibility is the stuff that directly affects Emerson.”

  “I know.”

  “Gretchen Fucking Kaiser’s office trinkets do not fall into that category.”

  “I know.”

  “She didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s hard for me to stay on a rampage when all you keep saying is ‘I know.’”

  “I know.”

  Mick didn’t want to smile, but she couldn’t help it. Kylie was always able to defuse her anger just by letting her vent. It was one of the best aspects of their friendship: how well they knew one another.

  Mick sighed. “She just really pissed me off.”

  “How come?”

  “What do you mean, ‘how come?’ You were there.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve had people be less than courteous with you before and you usually don’t give a crap. Why did Gretchen get under your skin so badly? She really just told you where to put the boxes. I mean, she could have been friendlier, but I’ve seen you treated worse than that and it didn’t faze you.”

  Mick hesitated, surprised by the quick spurt of indignation she felt at Kylie defending Gretchen. She hadn’t planned on telling Kylie about Saturday night; she was a firm believer in not outing people who were obviously trying to stay in the closet, whether or not she agreed with them. But she was not about to sit by and let Kylie think she’d overreacted.

  “I went to the Widow Saturday night.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So did your boss.”

  “What?” The disbelief was clear in Kylie’s voice.

  “You heard me. Apparently, it was her birthday, so we bought her a lot of drinks. And she doesn’t drink the cheap stuff.”

  “Gretchen was at the Black Widow?”

  “That’s what I said. Don’t let the panty hose and heels fool you. She’s as gay as I am. She was inches from picking up Christy when I left.”

  “Wow. I’m…wow.”

  Mick felt annoyance prickling the back of her neck, so she honked at a minivan that cut in front of her. “Fucking soccer moms,” she grumbled.

  “I work for a lesbian?” Kylie asked.

  “Apparently.” Mick rolled her eyes at the awe in Kylie’s tone.

  “I’ve never worked for a lesbian before.”

  “Yeah, well she’s a bitchy lesbian, so maybe it’s not such a good thing.”

  “Come on, Mick. It was her first day. She was probably stressed out. She doesn’t know yet how conservative the company might be so she’s decided to keep quiet about her sexual preferences, and then you come strolling in. You, a person who knows what her sexual preferences are. And you, a person who works for the same company she does. She probably panicked, that’s all.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “Some people don’t like their sexuality to be common knowledge.

  Not everybody wants it broadcast all over the place. Some people keep that stuff private.”

  “Which is just ridiculous.”

  Kylie tried to keep her sigh silent, but was sure Mick picked up on it. They’d had this same discussion countless times.

  “It’s ridiculous to you.” Kylie sounded a little defensive. “But not everybody is as comfortable in their own skin as you are.” Kylie herself wasn’t completely out at work. Mick didn’t consider her closeted, but she wasn’t terribly free with the information, as Mick was. She often told Mick she wished she had half the courage Mick did when it came to the subject.

  “Maybe so. I still don’t like her.”

  Kylie let out a frustrated breath, a sign that she knew she wasn’t changing Mick’s mind anytime soon. “Okay.” Mick mentally gave herself a point and decided to change the subject. They’d talk about it another day, she knew. “What’s for dinner?”

  If Kylie was startled by the shifting of gears, she didn’t sound it.

  “I think my mom’s making stew tonight. I’m going to go over there for a bit. Want to come?”

  Mick knew the truth. Kylie didn’t want to stay home much these days…not since she’d lost Rip, her beloved Australian Shepherd. He’d been gone for nearly a month, but Kylie still struggled. Mick wished there was something she could do for her friend, and truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to join Kylie at her mother’s for dinner, but she was still smarting over the events of the afternoon.

  “Nah. I need to get to the gym.”

  “Oh, come on. Your muscles can take one day off, can’t they?”

  “Yeah, they can, but there’s a new aerobics instructor I’ve been meaning to chat up.”

  “And by ‘chat up,’ you mean ‘feel up.’”

  “That, too.”

  “You’re a pig.” Kylie laughed.

  “Tell that gorgeous mother of yours I said hello.”

  “I will. She’ll be sorry she missed you.”

  “Hey, when do you want to do your kitchen floor?”

  “Maybe next weekend. Let me see what I’ve got going on.”

  “Let me know. I’ll catch you later, Ky.”

  They disconnected just as Mick pulled into her own driveway.

  She grabbed the mail out of the mailbox and headed straight to the refrigerator. Popping open a beer, she sifted through the pile of junk and bills, willing her anger to relinquish its hold on her psyche. She flopped onto the couch, snatched up the remote, and tuned the TV to a rerun of Friends, forcing thoughts of Gretchen Kaiser and her condescending expression out of her mind.

  Instead, she thought about Kylie. Mick was already looking forward to next weekend.

  * * *

  Gretchen is a lesbian.

  Kylie shook her head, smiling, not sure why she had such a hard time absorbing the fact. Maybe it was simply the way it would have changed how she’d looked at Gretchen in the bathroom that morning.

  It was one thing to look at an attractive woman and appreciate her appearance while assuming she was straight. It was quite another to look at her and know she might somehow be attainable. Not that Kylie would ever make a move like that…and certainly not on her boss. She’d never picked up a stranger based solely on her looks, but she knew it was done—Mick did it all the time.

&
nbsp; Kylie’s mind tossed her a quick visual. Her, pushing Gretchen against the wall of the bathroom, pressing their lips together in a blistering kiss while plunging her hands beneath the black suit jacket, searching for treasures inside and trying her best to rumple that calm, cool exterior.

  “Jesus, O’Brien, cut it out,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled into her parents’ driveway. Shaking her head, she strolled into the garage and reached for the door to the kitchen. There, she paused and whined softly, “I need to get laid.”

  The O’Brien kitchen smelled divine, as usual. Freshly baking rolls wafted the scents of home through the air and Kylie breathed deeply the aroma of her childhood. The kitchen was a cheery yellow even in the approaching twilight. Knickknacks and plants took up every open space. She often marveled at how the room seemed smaller now than it had when she was a kid; funny how that happened.

  “Mom?” she called as she stopped and lifted the lid off the enormous pot simmering on the stove. Using the giant spoon dripping onto the spoon rest, she scooped up a small amount of the stew and blew on it. She tasted a small dab, letting the flavors of beef and vegetables coat her tongue. She closed her eyes, loving the memories such tastes and smells could generate for her.

  “What do you think?” Caroline O’Brien bustled into the room just as she bustled everywhere, a dishtowel draped over her right shoulder.

  Her hair had once been a lush blond, but was now more of a brassy blond from a bottle since she refused to go gray. It curled gently just over her shoulders, skimming the neckline of her light blue sweater.

  She still somehow looked shapely in jeans, and her ever-present slip-ons were starting to look worn.

  Kylie made a mental note to get her a new pair for Mother’s Day.

  Caroline was smaller than Kylie, but it was easy to tell how attractive she’d been in her twenties. She still was, even in her sixties. The two of them shared the same startlingly blue eyes; Kylie was the only child who’d inherited them.

  “Maybe a touch more salt.” Kylie removed her jacket and tossed it over a chair.

  Caroline smacked her daughter playfully with the towel. “You always say that. And hang that jacket in the closet, please.”

  “Everything needs more salt, Mom.” Kylie did as she was told, feeling twelve again.

  Caroline shook some more salt into the pan. “If your father says this is too salty, I’m blaming you.”

  “Yeah, but I can just use my little-girl voice and call him Daddy and he’ll let me off the hook.”

  “It’s always worked for you in the past.” The playful banter was something Kylie cherished about her relationship with her mother. It hadn’t come easily. As the youngest of four children, Kylie didn’t get as much attention as the older siblings…

  there were just too many chores to be done and things to handle. She had learned to take whatever time she could get from her mother. But when she’d finally accepted her own sexuality, as a junior in college, she worried immensely about telling her parents. She was sure it would be the final hammer blow on the wedge that seemed to keep her from being friends with her mother. Instead, the admission had brought them together.

  “I love you no matter what, Kylie Jane,” Caroline had said with tears in her eyes. “And I love you even more for trusting me enough to tell me.”

  It had been the beginning of their adult relationship.

  “When are we going out to dinner again?” Caroline asked. They had a standing monthly dinner date, just the two of them, but they’d missed last month’s. “I need some adult time soon.”

  “You need a break from being Grandma?”

  “I do.” Caroline stirred the stew absently. “I love my grandkids and I don’t mind babysitting at all, but there are days I just want to have a glass of wine at a nice restaurant and talk to adults. Or at least people without headphones on.” She glared at Kylie with a mock-threatening expression. “And if you breathe a word of that to your sister or brother, I’ll beat you with this spoon.”

  Kylie laughed. “It’ll be our little secret. And we’ll do dinner next week. I’m not sure how many free evenings I’ll have this week.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. How’s the new boss?” Kylie began setting the kitchen table for three. “I’m not really sure yet. She seems to know her stuff.”

  “That’s a plus. Is she nice?”

  “Hard to say. She was nice to me, but she wasn’t in the office much—she had a bunch of meetings with upper management to introduce herself around, so I only got a small taste. I’m just going to have to give her some time before I have a solid opinion.”

  “Well, it’s always hard after you’ve had a boss you liked. But I’m sure things will settle down before you know it.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. She seems ready to crack down on those who aren’t pulling their weight, though, so I know some of the salespeople are going to hate her. But that’s what a sales manager does, right? Manages?” Kylie retrieved silverware from the drawer. “She and Mick had a little problem.”

  “About what?” Caroline glanced up from the bowls she was filling.

  Kylie smiled. Her mother had a soft spot for Mick and treated her like one of her own children. It had been that way since high school.

  Mick’s home life had been less than cozy and she’d spent a lot of time in the O’Brien household, always loving and respectful of Kylie’s parents. To this day, Mick still thought of them like they were her true mother and father.

  “It was just a shipping miscommunication, but they’ve sort of gotten off on the wrong foot.” For some reason, Kylie felt the need to defend Gretchen, despite the coolness she’d displayed when Kylie left for the day. She knew if she told the story of the boxes in Mick’s words, her mother would immediately side with Mick and be wary of Gretchen, and somehow that bothered her. “I’m sure they’ll clear it up, though.”

  They worked quietly for several minutes before Caroline spoke again. “Can you believe it’s almost May already?” She was staring out the kitchen window at the beginnings of green in her back yard, no doubt imagining which flowers would go where in the next month.

  “Incredible.” Kylie put the basket of rolls on the table and got the milk out of the fridge. “Almost time for the annual O’Brien Memorial Day cookout.”

  Caroline looked shocked. “My God, you’re right.”

  “Mom. It’s over a month away. Don’t panic yet.” Caroline was already rifling through the junk drawer for a pad of paper. “I can at least start making my list,” she muttered, more to herself than to Kylie.

  Kylie rolled her eyes, chuckling as she poured the drinks. “Relax, Mom. Everything will come together beautifully. It always does.” She kissed her mother on the cheek while directing her toward the table.

  “Sit. I’ll get Dad.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Kylie! Kylie, come sit with us.”

  Damn it. Kylie closed her eyes when she heard the voice shouted from behind her. It was Jason Bergman; she’d recognize his baritone anywhere. She also knew what was coming. She’d known it fifteen minutes into the morning-long sales meeting.

  She continued through the cafeteria line, put a chicken salad and a Coke on her tray, paid at the register, then turned to locate Jason. Her stomach flip-flopped when she found him, along with the six other sales reps sitting at his table. Behind them was a second table of eight. On the other side, another. Every set of eyes was fixed expectantly on her and Kylie just knew the entire team had been awaiting her arrival so they could pounce.

  “Here we go,” she mumbled, heading toward them.

  The sales reps were dressed in their business best…suits and ties for the men, skirts and jackets or dresses for the women, though Sarah Stevenson was wearing a navy blue pantsuit that looked expensively fantastic on her. The group appeared successful, but according to Gretchen that wasn’t what their numbers were reflecting.

  “What the hell, Kylie?” Jason spoke up for the g
ang the second Kylie sat down, leaning forward slightly to emphasize his words.

  “Where the hell did the Cruella De Vil type come from? And who shit in her corn flakes?”

  Kylie popped open her Coke while trying to figure out how to handle this situation. The sales reps relied on her. She was their point of contact and they trusted her to get them what they needed. Gretchen had been extremely hard on them, criticizing their low sales figures and browbeating them about improvements for nearly four hours.

  “I’m not sure what to tell you, Jay. She’s tough.”

  “Tough?” Sarah piped in, popping a potato chip into her mouth.

  “She’s nasty.”

  Kylie rubbed at her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I think she’s just trying to ruffle your feathers to help increase your sales.”

  Jeff Carson was to Kylie’s immediate left and he snorted at her comment. “Oh, she did some ruffling, all right. Telling me my profit margins were a joke in front of the entire region certainly ruffled me. Jesus. Tactless much?”

  “And didn’t she tell Roxy to get her ass out of her chair once in a while?” Jason clarified to emphatic nods and murmurs.

  Kylie winced inwardly. That had been a particularly bad one. Not that Gretchen hadn’t been right. Roxy was far too comfortable with e-mail and didn’t visit her clients nearly as often as she should, and her numbers supported those facts. But Roxy was sweet and kind and soft-spoken, and Gretchen had made an example of the poor girl. It hadn’t been pretty.

  “I think she’s still in the bathroom fixing her mascara.” Sarah shook her head. “Jim would never have treated us like this, Kylie. You know that.”

  Kylie nodded. It was the truth.

  “We’re not children,” Jason stated matter-of-factly. “We don’t need to be scolded like that, and certainly not in front of an entire room of reps. I didn’t appreciate being told that my numbers suck.” Kylie pressed her lips together tightly. Those had been Gretchen’s exact words, and she was right. Jason was the most demanding of the reps, calling Kylie two or three times a day needing one thing or another, so she’d felt a small tingle of satisfaction over Gretchen shredding him the way she had. Now, she wanted to grin at his indignation. She managed to keep a straight face.