———
“So that’s her, the woman from Baltimore that broke your heart…left you shattered in a million pieces…stomped on you and left you for dead….” Val sputtered between leg lifts.
“That’s her, the one and only.” Paula stood before the mirror working her triceps with the dumbbells.
“She seemed really nice.”
“She is really nice.”
“You never mentioned that she looked like a model.”
“I told you she was beautiful.”
“Yeah, but I thought those were just ‘I’m in love’ words. Everybody says that when they’re in love. But she really is.”
“Yep, she certainly is.”
“So what were you guys arguing about?”
Paula chuckled. “The bill, actually.”
“There had to be more to it than that. Most people don’t get that angry when they’re fighting over the bill.”
The blonde woman sighed, setting the dumbbells back in the rack. “I was going to pick up the check because she got the tickets to the game. But she tried to pay it instead. She said she’d invited me so she should pay.”
“Sounds fair. Can’t you just pay next time?”
“That wasn’t the point. The point was that we’re just friends. It wasn’t supposed to be a date and she knew that, so I didn’t want her picking up the tab saying it was because she’d asked me out. You and I wouldn’t have had any argument at all. We’d have split everything down the middle because that’s what friends do.”
“Sounds to me like you’re making a pretty big deal out of nothing. So what if she wanted to pay? So what if it was a date? You did spend the whole day together, and you’re both attracted to each other.” That much was obvious to the bar manager by just the way the women looked at each other.
“We’re not attracted to each other. We were, but that’s in the past.” Paula couldn’t honestly deny that the attraction was still there, but saying it was in the past helped to harden her resolve. “You and I go places together and we don’t call it a date. I’m not interested in playing with that fire anymore, thank you.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Val muttered.
“What?”
“If you’re not interested, why do you go out with her at all?”
“Because she’s nice. Because I like her. Because she’s fun.”
“So what’s the problem with calling it a date? It’s obvious that you two have chemistry together.”
“Val, I can’t go there again! I don’t trust her after what she did.”
“Are you sure you’re not just punishing her?”
“What difference does it make? Either way, I’m not going to give her the chance to do it again.”
“But it does make a difference. Do you think she’s just that kind of person, or do you think she just made a mistake?”
Paula shrugged. “How can you separate the two? Only a certain kind of person makes a mistake like that, and if she’ll do it once, who’s to say she won’t do it again? I mean, what if we got together and then she went off on one of her business trips and met somebody else?”
“People aren’t perfect, Paula. But some of them are able to learn from their mistakes.”
The blonde woman reached again for the dumbbells to complete her final set. “It’s just…I know now that Wynne Connelly has the power to hurt me a lot if I let her too close.”
“Look, I don’t blame you for being wary after what happened. But any time you start to care for somebody, you give them the power to hurt you. It’s a risk you have to weigh. And in this case, I think you really ought to ask yourself if this woman’s worth another chance.”
Paula returned the dumbbells to the rack and turned for the door. “Are you ready to run?”
The discussion was now closed.
———
Wynne flipped on the kitchen lights with her elbow as she stumbled into the dark house from the garage. With a sharp tug, she rolled her suitcase over the threshold, the wheels clacking across the tile floor. She’d have two days in her office before her next trip, this one to San Francisco on Sunday afternoon. Cheryl had underestimated the amount of travel for her job, but that was due in part to the fact that she’d started helping out in sales.
It sure didn’t leave much time for nesting, she thought. And after more than a year, she really hadn’t bonded with her new house. It was a nice place, but after all this time, the only furniture she owned was her bedroom suite. At her insistence, her mom had moved the other one to the new condo for guests.
Another factor in play was that she’d been spending so much time at her mom’s place that it felt more like home than her own house. If she had it to do over again, she’d have gotten a three-bedroom condo herself, and turned one of the rooms into an office. She really liked the feeling of having such a variety of neighbors living close by.
The last two days in Miami had been busy, but fruitful, as she worked with Eldon-Markoff’s cruise partner to draft a winter campaign. She was working these days with a lot of autonomy, except on the San Francisco project. That one involved three of the corporate officers, including Cheryl and Wendell.
Despite her exhausted state, Wynne loved her job more every day. It was turning out to be everything she’d hoped it would be: challenging, fun, interesting, and she was lucky to find herself working with a team of people she really liked. Indeed, she could see herself at Eldon-Markoff for many years. Cheryl had cautioned her over and over not to let the job become her life. Sure, it was demanding work, her boss had said. But she needed something different to go home to, something comforting, and without the stress of the workplace. A different house, perhaps, Wynne imagined, knowing even as the thought registered that it would take much more than a house to fill the void in her life — a void she might never have acknowledged had she not found Paula McKenzie again.
Kicking off her shoes, the tired executive entered her living room and turned on a lamp.
A quick check of the front porch yielded two newspapers and a small stack of mail…junk mail mostly, and a couple of bills. The dial tone on her phone pulsed to announce new messages. To her surprise and delight, the third one was from Paula.
Hi, Wynne. It’s me. Look, I was wondering if you’d be interested in going to a shuttle launch at the press site next week. I know you probably have to work, but it’s scheduled for Friday at 12:35 p.m. If you’re interested, I need you to call me with your full name, your social security number, and your date of birth. Of course, this could just be a hoax and I need that information to clean out your bank account. Either way, can I count on your cooperation? So long.
Wynne fought the urge to call right away. It wasn’t quite 11, but she knew that Paula’s morning shift started at seven. She was probably already asleep.
More than anything, Wynne was thrilled at this, the first invitation she’d gotten from Paula since their talk of friendship after the picnic on Labor Day. Her plane from California was due back in on Thursday night, and she made a decision on the spot to take a personal day if it cleared with Cheryl.
———
Paula pulled up to the gate and passed the guard two sets of press credentials and identification. The soldier recognized her as Ray McKenzie’s daughter and knew that she wasn’t officially employed by a media agency. Still, the head of public information had cleared her and the beautiful woman beside her, and he wasn’t going to question McKenzie’s authority.
As the long flat road continued forward past a line of trees, a giant structure appeared in the distance.
“What’s that?”
“That’s the Vehicle Assembly Building, where they…?”
“Assemble vehicles?”
Paula laughed. “That’s right. That’s where they attach the rockets and get the shuttle ready to mount on the launch pad. That building’s so big that it has its own weather inside.”
Wynne looked perplexed.
“Well, not really. But the condensation gathers
at the top and when it gets heavy enough, it falls just like rain.”
Wynne was still skeptical, not so much because the story lacked credence, but because she wouldn’t put it past Paula to pull her leg. “How do they move it from there to the launch pad?”
“It goes on a giant bed with treads like a tank. And the road isn’t paved, because it would just collapse under all that weight. Instead, it’s made out of crushed seashells because they give a little. But every time they move one of the shuttles out there they have to rebuild the road for next time. The worst is if the window closes and they have to bring it back in and take it apart.”
“Wow! That sounds like a lot of work.”
“Believe me, they hate it.” Paula pulled into the field and cruised the rows until she found a space to accommodate her small convertible. Among the two hundred or so autos were a couple of dozen press trucks, easily identified by the satellite dishes affixed to their tops.
A grandstand looked across an open area to the launch pad. Wynne noticed at once the familiar view of the large digital clock and the flagpole in the foreground. Just past those landmarks was water and marsh, wetlands that were home to thousands of birds, fish and reptiles. Seven miles away was the shuttle Endeavor.
“My dad works in here,” Paula said, leading the way to a dome-shaped building that hosted rows of press terminals, walls of charts, racks of brochures, and speakers that carried every official word of the launch process. Ray McKenzie sat behind a desk in a glassed-in cubicle, his raised finger indicating to Paula that his interview was nearly complete. “We should wait here.”
Ray McKenzie had gotten the lowdown from his wife that this was a woman who had recently moved to Orlando, and that she and Paula had a history. He didn’t want all the details; it was enough to him that Maxine had told him to be especially nice to this one because their daughter liked Wynne Connelly very much.
“I’m glad you could come today. Did either of you have any trouble getting off work?”
“I didn’t,” Paula answered. “I traded tomorrow, though.”
“I didn’t either. I haven’t had a day off in months, so I dared anyone to try to stop me,”
Wynne explained. “Mr. McKenzie, thank you for getting me in today. This is something I won’t forget.”
“Call me Ray, please. Paula told me you understood what things here at NASA were really about, so I was glad to do it.”
“What’s the status, Dad?”
“It looks like ‘all systems go’ and we’re less than an hour away. The weather looks great. I’d say we’re going to launch.”
“That’s great. Hey, I think we’re going to go out to the grandstand. We’ll come back in after she goes up, okay?”
“Okay, have fun.”
Before going out, Wynne picked up some of the brochures and press releases so she’d know a little about the crew before the launch. Once on the grandstand, the women read interesting tidbits to each other until the clock announced T minus five minutes.
“Let’s go to the edge of the water to watch it go up.” Contractors were already lining up on the bank.
A loudspeaker announced the final 30 seconds. The first sign of the launch was a large mountain of white smoke at the base of the launch pad. The mountain grew rapidly wider, but only slightly higher. The shuttle’s first movement was barely perceptible.
As the rumble reached their outpost, hundreds of birds took to the air from the glades in front of them. The water rippled fiercely as the whole earth shook.
“It’s cleared the launch pad,” Paula shouted. “That means it’s gone over to Mission Control in Houston.”
The shuttle appeared to hang in the sky momentarily, then its climb began to accelerate rapidly. Wynne too was shaking in anticipation as the shuttle turned on its back and arced to trace a path directly above their heads. In less than three minutes, it was beyond the naked eye.
“Paula, that was so awesome!”
“I know. It gets me every single time.”
Finally, they turned to walk back toward the dome. Journalists and photographers were collecting their gear, ready to file their launch stories.
“You know, this is why I called that night,” Paula said softly.
“What?”
“That night in Baltimore, when Heather answered the phone. I was calling to see if you could come to a launch that weekend. I had to know the next day to get your credentials.”
Wynne shuddered at the memory. Neither woman said another word as they walked into the domed offices in search of Paula’s dad. Both said their polite goodbyes and walked quietly to the convertible.
Paula was feeling pretty bad about bringing up the call to Baltimore. She’d been having a good time, and it seemed like Wynne had too. Things between them had been light, friendly, and even casual. Now the dark-haired woman pulled a cap low over her forehead as they started out, looking off to right at the scenery on her own side of the car.
“I guess I shouldn’t have brought that up, huh?” Paula asked sheepishly.
Wynne blew out a breath of resignation. “I deserved it, I suppose.”
“No, you didn’t. We already settled all that and I should have just let it go.”
“Well, one thing is pretty obvious, Paula. You haven’t forgiven me for it,” she said sadly.
“That’s going to make it pretty hard for us to be real friends.”
Wynne was right, Paula knew. It wasn’t enough just to go through the motions of doing things together. They connected every time they talked, and they had a real chance of being close friends for a long time…but not if Paula couldn’t get past her feelings about what had happened. It wasn’t going to be good for them if she continued her punishment.
“I…I do want to forgive you, Wynne. I haven’t been as honest with you as I’ve asked you to be with me,” she confessed. “What happened between us really hurt me a lot. I felt cheap and used, and I was angry for a long time, but not just at you. I was angry at myself for being such a fool in the first place, and I was angry at every woman I met at the hotel for a whole year afterwards.” Paula looked over to find her companion pushing away tears. She understood that such declarations were tough to listen to.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know. I believe you when you say that. But I’ve been carrying this around for awhile and it’s going to take a little longer to get past all of it.” On the spot, Paula made a decision and announced her intention. “I’m going to try harder, okay? I really did have fun with you today, and I want us to be able to keep doing things together without having something between us.”
“Thank you. I’m really glad to have you back in my life, Paula. I want us to be friends again.” At that point, Wynne wanted to reach over and cover the small hand on the gearshift, but the potential for rejection was higher than she was willing to risk.
Chapter 18
“Excuse me, Wynne?”
Claudia Sanchez, Markoff’s administrative assistant, stood in her doorway.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Markoff wants a meeting right now with all the officers and assistant VPs. We’re linking up Cheryl and Wendell by speaker phone.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Moments later, the tall woman joined the caravan of busy executives as they filed into the conference room. All had dropped what they were doing to answer the urgent summons of their CEO.
Ken Markoff opened the meeting with two announcements: Eldon-Markoff would acquire San Francisco-based Western Travel, a smaller company with a solid network of Asian contacts. Most of the executives, including Wynne, had been working quietly behind the scenes to evaluate the potential for such an acquisition, so only a few were surprised.
Markoff’s second announcement was startling. Effective immediately, Cheryl Williams was leaving her post as VP of Sales and Marketing to assume the title of President of Eldon-Markoff, the number two position in the company. Ken Markoff had held both posts for several yea
rs, ever since the death of David Eldon.
One after another, the executives around the table passed on their congratulations to the new president, who was actually on a cell phone in a cab heading to JFK International Airport. Wynne learned from Cheryl that successful business people made the most of every minute.
“I really appreciate all of your votes of confidence. I’ll stop by your offices and thank you in person when I get back tomorrow. But right now, I need to cut this short.” Her cab had arrived at curbside.
Markoff adjourned the meeting with an admonition not to talk to anyone outside the room about the proceedings until the formal notification and press release tomorrow. The Federal Trade Commission frowned heavily on the passing of insider information that might allow a privileged few to capitalize on the stock market.
“Wynne, can I see you in my office for a few minutes?” he asked.
“Of course.” She was already thinking about how this move would impact her workload.
Until they got a new VP in place, she’d probably have to absorb more of the sales administration; she was already handling virtually all of the marketing.
Once inside the plush corner office, Markoff closed the door and offered her a chair.
Buzzing Claudia, he asked her to put the call through.
“Wynne, this is Cheryl again.”
That was odd, the assistant VP thought. But evidently, Ken and Cheryl had worked out the quick adjournment and had planned this call in advance.
“I’m here. Congratulations again.”
“Thanks, and congratulations yourself. If you say yes, you’re going to be the new Vice President for Sales and Marketing.”
Wynne was flabbergasted, and surprised herself by not falling out of the chair! “Yes!”
“That’s wonderful, Wynne.” Markoff stood to extend a hug. Wynne had rapidly become one of his favorite staffers.
“Thank you. Thank you both. I promise not to disappoint either of you.”
“We already knew that. That’s why we asked. Listen, I have to go through security, so I’ll see everyone in the morning.”
“Safe travels, Cheryl.”
Just This Once Page 17