by Claire Adams
I forced a laugh and spit out some Hollywood tabloid I had seen in the market the other day. The woman smiled and nodded, but did not relax again. I excused myself to get another glass of wine. Two volunteer servers and Topher jumped to help me, but I waved them back.
The next presenters were local law enforcement giving awards to exceptional and caring community members. I forced myself to concentrate on their heartfelt and real message as I stood near the beverage table. Only by concentrating on each and every word could I stop the room from doing wild swoops in my head.
Rainer was not engaged? He was not going to marry Ellison?
Instead of letting the weight of those questions knock me over, I grabbed another glass of wine.
"Can you believe he's actually here? I mean, when I first saw him I thought I was hallucinating." A trio of women approached the beverage table.
They spoke in quiet tones as the awards speeches continued, but I could hear every word. The taller woman glanced at Rainer's table and said, "You think he's really going the charitable route or is this all a way to recover from his failed relationship with Ellison Ramsey?"
I finished my wine and got in line behind the women.
"Who cares," the first woman said. "If he's here alone, then I say he's fair game."
"Janice, he's a playboy!"
"Exactly," said Janice.
I wanted to stop them and speak out on Rainer's behalf. It was clear from their admiring glances that it was my Rainer they were looking at. I stopped myself and took a step back. My Rainer? Why did I feel it was my job to tell them they had the wrong impression of him?
Rainer's reputation, his relationship status, and even his current work situation were none of my business.
"I hear he's not even that good of a businessman. His biggest windfall was all someone else's work," Janice's friend said with a disapproving frown.
"As Rainer's colleague at Hyperion, I can assure you that is not true," I told the trio of women.
They stepped back with googly eyes and the volunteer server took that opportunity to hand me another glass of wine. "Mr. Maxwell seems very nice to me," the server said.
I raised my glass to the young volunteer and then almost spilled the entire contents down my silk sundress. "Berger! What are you doing sneaking up on me?!"
Berger didn't bother to hide his wide grin. "Just chipping away at the ice, you know," he said. He waited until the gossipy women returned to their table. "Though it seems like someone else has beaten me to it. Did I just hear you defending Rainer?"
"Are you crashing this awards dinner?" I asked Berger.
He grinned again. "I heard some of my old Hyperion cronies were in the vicinity, so I just had to stop by."
I narrowed my eyes at him but said, "It's nice to see you stateside. The last I heard you were off to Paris."
"I was," Berger said. "And it was all cafe drinks and beautiful parties until the Ramseys came to town. Did you know that Ellison Ramsey not only speaks French, but also Italian and even some Arabic? She completely blew me away at an art auction. I almost lost my whole fortune just to keep hearing her translate art titles for me."
I blinked, confused, until I saw Berger catch himself and turn self-consciously towards the beverage table. The volunteer server handed him a drink right away, but he took his time turning back around.
"So, how have things been here?" Berger asked.
"Not as exciting as an art auction with Ellison Ramsey," I said.
Berger's eyes flitted over to Rainer's table. "She wasn't the only American society I saw."
"Just the only one who mattered."
"Now, wait, Tasha, don't get the wrong idea—"
I pressed a hand to Berger's rapidly beating heart. "Don't worry; I won't say anything. Not that it matters, right? I mean, it's not like Ellison is spoken for or anything. Is it?"
He shooed me back and brushed off his silk tie. "It's just nice seeing familiar faces when you're overseas."
"All right, fine," I said, feeling better than I had all night. "So, how do you like being home?"
Berger was relieved to step back into his regular role. "I'm bored already. I don't know what you did to Rainer when you two worked together, but now he's all work, work, work. You managed to turn our best party boy into the most boring and responsible drone bee."
"You're blaming me?" I asked.
"Nothing else explains it. One day he's fine and planning pranks to play on the golf course. Then he signs on to your project. Next thing I know he's over in the East Bay doing all this good work, and he barely has time to grab a drink," Berger complained.
"I don't see how that has anything to do with me," I said.
Berger chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "Now the tables have turned."
"Stop," I said. "Whatever wild speculation you are going to make up, I don't want to hear it. Rainer isn't the set-up to some bad joke. And I'm not your punchline anymore."
All jest disappeared from Berger's eyes. "Actually, that's what I was stopping by here to say. I'm sorry that I did not appreciate your hard work more when we were at the same company."
"Wait, what?" I spoke too loudly, and a few people glanced back at us.
Berger sighed. "The truth is that I got bored in Europe. All the parties and the jet-setting. I went all over but never seemed to be getting anywhere, you know?"
"You missed work," I said.
He nodded, almost embarrassed. "And I figured that was your influence too. After all those days of watching you go, go, go, I just wasn't content to sit around."
A light bulb went on in my head. "Well, maybe we should sit down during office hours and talk about what kind of work you'd like to be doing."
Berger shook my hand and then the mischievous light sprang back into his eyes. "I'd love that, I really would. Now, I've got to go comfort my old bachelor friend. We'll talk soon, Tasha. Thank you."
I watched Berger weave his way through the tables and take the empty seat I had been tempted by. When Topher appeared by my side, I couldn't hide my thoughts. "Should I have told Rainer congratulations? Isn't he still engaged to be married?" I asked.
Topher shook his head, relieved to finally be able to speak on the subject. "No! He was never even engaged in the first place. And I know for a fact that he never plans on proposing to Ms. Ramsey at all."
Topher's answer was so decisive that I berated myself for not asking months ago. Then it sank in: Rainer was single.
Chapter Nineteen
Rainer
I instructed my driver to drop me off around the block, telling him I wanted to grab a coffee or some nonsense, and I waited until the sleek SUV disappeared before I started walking. Tasha's new office was in the center of downtown Oakland. Businesses were slowly returning to the vibrant little city, and I was impressed that she had picked a place with such a good vibe.
There was a coffee shop in the lobby of her building, and I took a minute to review its menu of fresh-roasted coffee and artisanal chocolate. A woman smiled at me over her laptop, and I realized I was staring off into space. I was stalling.
I edged down the block and entered the building's main lobby. Marble walls and gold-leaf spoke to the building's historic status, and I was tempted to sit down and admire it. Instead, I opted to take the stairs to Tasha's top floor offices.
As I climbed, I wondered how on earth Tasha had convinced Stan to open up shop in such a neighborhood. He had deep San Francisco roots, and I didn't foresee him traveling across the bay every day. I pushed open the door on the top floor and got my answer: the new company sign featured Tasha's name, which meant Stan was planning to retire.
The receptionist nodded to me and then glanced back with a widening smile. She smoothed down the front of her silk blouse and gave her lipstick a quick lick. "Hello, I'm Amber. Is there anything I can help you with?"
I didn't know whether to be pleased or irritated. It had been nice staying out of the tabloids, but people still recognized
me, especially in the business world. Either the receptionist was going to have to study names and faces better, or Tasha would find her a new position.
"Just admiring the view," I said. I winked at the receptionist and then turned to look out the large arched windows.
Oakland traffic streamed past far below, and from the top floor, I could see Jack London Square. It was a view worth admiring, but I was stalling again. It was my last chance to head back to the elevators before someone I knew spotted me. What was I doing at Tasha's office anyway?
If I was being honest, Tasha and I didn't know each other that well. Not well enough for a random drop by. I could take the 'just in the neighborhood' route, but I knew Tasha wouldn't fall for it. The last thing I wanted to do was put her on edge or make her suspicious.
It had taken me long enough to get past her suspicions the first time.
"Rainer Maxwell, good to see you," a voice boomed.
I turned around and had my hand crushed in a vice-like shake. "Otto. I didn't expect to see you here," I said.
The former Hyperion head of security clapped me on the shoulder and finally released my aching hand. "I could say the same about you."
"I'm just wondering how Tasha got Stan Eastman to set up shop in Oakland," I said.
Otto chuckled. "Oh, he put up a fight. Though I think this was his plan all along. You know he's retiring soon, right? I think all he wanted to do was encourage Ms. Nichols to find her own way."
I followed Otto across the reception lobby and through the double doors to the outer offices. "So, Tasha is the brains behind all of this."
Otto swelled with pride. "She's a great boss. Good atmosphere here. I like it. You would too."
I stopped in the hallway. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing." Otto shrugged, but his gaze was shrewd. "You and Ms. Nichols made a good team."
"You don't have to sound so shocked," I said.
Otto laughed again. "I'm serious. She wouldn't have been brave enough to salvage the GroGreen project if it hadn't been for you pushing her. And she wouldn't have gotten into community development. I've been to see that garden, you know."
I glanced away, not wanting him to see that I had just come from visiting the garden we helped plant. "So, Tasha took you away from San Francisco, huh?" I asked.
Otto snorted and led me towards the executive offices. "Mr. Eastman insisted, with a very nice raise. Plus, I live over in Richmond and love the shorter commute."
I sighed. "All you East Bay people."
"Bet you wouldn't mind ending up here yourself," Otto said. He stopped and gave me another measuring look. "Maybe there's another project Ms. Nichols could include you in."
"No, no, I'm not here looking for a job." As soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong thing to say.
Otto's eyes gleamed with speculation. "Well, don't let me get in your way. Ms. Nichols' office is just over there."
I shook hands with the head of security again and then headed in the direction he pointed. The office was an open floor plan with a swath of cubicles running down the center. The offices on the side were almost entirely walled in with glass to let in the light. A large conference room dominated the far wall, flanked on either side by larger executive offices.
Tasha's was on the left with a dramatic backdrop of Oakland towers and roofs behind it. She had pulled back the heavy linen curtains to allow the entire office to see inside. I was certain that watching Tasha put in a full day of work motivated every single person within sight.
She was pacing back and forth while talking on her phone, and when she glanced up, I froze. Her coppery hair caught the sunlight streaming through the windows. The sleek, dove-gray business suit she wore hugged her body in the way only tailor-made clothes could. She looked every inch the powerful CEO, and I would have felt better with a folder or report or something to show her.
"Rainer?" Berger hailed me from behind a cubicle. "I thought that was you."
He wove around the cubicles and cut off my view of Tasha.
I shook his hand. He continued to block my view of Tasha's office. "So, no more jet-setting through Europe?"
"I got bored," Berger said with a shrug.
I crossed my arms over my chest. "I doubt that. Didn't you see Ellison in Paris? I heard you were both there at the same time. She didn't have one hundred and one parties for you to attend?"
Berger adjusted his tie and studied the pattern in it. "I did see Ellison, but she was busy," he said.
"I suppose her parties aren't really your kind of thing and vice versa." I tried to inch past Berger, but he was determined to chat.
"I attended as many as I could stand," Berger said. "But I don't think she noticed."
I blinked a few times in surprise. "And you couldn't catch the notice of any other woman in France?"
Berger looked relieved when a man in a plain suit interrupted us. "Mr. Berger, here is your packet from HR. Please let me know if you have any questions. And congratulations again, sir."
The man hurried away back to work and Berger gave me a funny half-smile, half-cringe. "You probably have a few questions, huh?"
I watched the man race through the cubicles. "First off, I want to know why he called you 'sir.' He must not know who you are."
Berger smacked me with his heavy packet of paperwork. "I'm getting all respectable now, and I blame you," he said.
"That can't be right. My reputation's still in the toilet."
"That's part of it," Berger said. "I was sick of having a reputation of all talk and no substance. And I wasn't lying about the getting bored part. I missed work. That's why I blame you and Tasha. She helped you make the transition into real, meaningful work and I was kinda hoping she would do the same for me."
I felt a bright flare of jealous and took a step straight towards Berger. "So, why exactly are you here?"
Berger held up both hands. "Whoa. Just for a job. Actually, I came in only expecting a recommendation, but Tasha decided to take a chance on me. Professionally only."
I eyed him closely and finally uncrossed my arms. "It's just strange you showing up at the awards dinner and now here. And now you're going to work for Tasha?"
"It's not like that. Totally the opposite, in fact. I'm trying to make myself more respectable so I can catch someone else's attention. Not Tasha's. Not like that," Berger explained.
"Tasha was the only one you talked to at the awards dinner.” I was having trouble letting go of my irritation.
Berger scrubbed the back of his neck and tried to explain himself again. "I can see how you might think I'm after Tasha. I mean, I was in a way. I crashed the awards dinner because I didn't know when else I would see her. And I wanted to gauge how she felt about me before I asked for help getting a job."
"And she was receptive?" My voice came out a growl.
"Actually, she was distracted." Berger elbowed me in the ribs. "And it wasn't easy tracking Tasha down. She is a seriously busy woman."
"How did you find out she'd be there?" I asked.
"Well, first I had to find your old, razor-sharp assistant. Topher is one cagey guy," Berger said.
The tension in my shoulders eased as the subject changed. "Are you trying to tell me that Topher let slip his boss' private schedule? I would have thought you'd have better luck swimming from here to Alcatraz."
Berger snorted. "Yeah, it wasn't easy. I think he finally took pity on me. How did you manage to finagle the information out of him?"
"I was invited to that awards dinner." I stood up straight and slipped my hands into my pockets.
"Right, because you make a habit of going to things like that," Berger said. "Just like you have a habit of dropping by old colleague’s new workplaces."
"Don't you have some paperwork to fill out?" I asked Berger.
He gave a triumphant laugh. "Oh, now I'm getting it. I'm here for a job. Why are you visiting our Ms. Nichols?"
"How are we going to know the temperature of the market if I don't
check in on the Ice Queen?" I asked. It was a low joke, back to the days at Hyperion when everyone made fun of Tasha behind her back.
Berger did not respond to it with his usual bark of laughter. His smile froze into a crooked line, and suddenly he was much more interested in the nearest cubicle.
I felt my stomach sink down to the floor. During our conversation, Berger had turned me so my back was to Tasha's office. She had looked so busy and so focused as she talked on the phone that I had assumed she'd be staying at her desk. I had also banked on her less-than-thrilled expression when she saw me to buy me a few minutes to think up the perfect thing to say. Something casual but friendly. I had come to her new office to make her realize we could still get along.
Now, I was afraid she had come out of her office just to overhear me talking the same kind of nonsense all the junior executives used to torture her with.
Berger met my eyes, just barely. It was clear that Tasha was directly behind me, but there was no way out of the comment I had made.
"She's behind me, isn't she?" I asked Berger.
He nodded but said nothing.
I sighed. "She heard me sounding like a horse's ass, didn't she?"
"She did," Tasha said.
I spun around, but her expression was too hard to read.
Berger found his voice again. "We were just talking about how far you've come. We didn't make it easy on you, and Rainer was just remembering the awful jokes we used to make. Not even funny. Just bad."
He trailed off, and Topher swooped in to try to salvage the awkward situation. "Mr. Maxwell, so good to see you again. I remember when you used to tell off all your colleagues about how they joked behind Ms. Nichols’ back."
"Are we in junior high school?" Tasha asked.
I laughed, not knowing if she was making fun of us or not. "We are, but not you. I can't even imagine what you must have been like in junior high school: hefty binder full of A+ schoolwork. . ."
I trailed off to silence and stood between Berger and Topher looking sheepish.
Tasha sighed. "I'm sorry to break up this little reunion, but I have a very busy day and there is a lot I need to do before my next meeting."