by Alane Hudson
“If only finding the right guy was so easy.”
“Don’t go there,” Andrea said, throwing the transmission into park.
“Didn’t you just say it was meant to be?”
“I wasn’t talking about guys. I was talking about a job.” She shut off the engine but made no move to get out of the car.
“Hey, you never know,” Monica said. “Love can be found in the unlikeliest places—or circumstances. Maybe you’ll meet someone at work—another social worker or one of the lawyers.”
“Love isn’t the problem.” It was trust Andrea had a problem with. And commitment.
“I know, hon. Just keep your heart open. Maybe your new boss has a cute brother.”
“She doesn’t, but even if she did, I’d be too afraid he would look like Tony. I couldn’t date anyone who looked like my own brother.”
“Yeah, eww. Not that I think Tony’s eww, of course, but I get what you mean. Hey, look, I’ve got to get dinner started. Pete’ll be home any second, and the baby’s getting fussy. I’ll call you tonight.”
“All right. Kiss kiss.”
“Mwah.”
Andrea disconnected the call, gathered her things, and walked up to her apartment. It was lonely and quiet, with only a clock ticking when she went inside. She set her purse and portfolio down and went into the bedroom.
Her mind kept going over the events of the last two hours, relieved about the interview, amused about meeting her own double, and excited about the job ahead of her. The salary wasn’t anything to get excited about, but social work wasn’t the field she’d have chosen if she’d wanted to make lots of money. It paid the rent, kept her car running, and put food in her belly.
She stepped out of her pumps, unzipped her skirt, and slid it down her legs. She didn’t really mind shopping at second-hand stores for clothes. This skirt had cost only three bucks, and it had a designer label on it. No one would ever need to know where she’d bought them.
Barefoot and dressed in athletic shorts and a t-shirt, Andrea padded to the kitchen and popped a frozen entree into the microwave. It was gummy and bland, but it was already paid for. After dinner, she called her parents in Arizona and told them about her almost new job. Though they were optimistic she would get the offer, she didn’t want to get her hopes up. She’d had enough of dashed hopes and broken dreams. Until the call came, the wait-and-see armor she’d put around her heart would keep her from getting discouraged.
The waiting part was much harder than the seeing.
Chapter 2
Andrea was sitting at her dining table the next morning, sorting her unpaid bills in order of importance while she finished off the last bagel. She’d received only a two-week severance, and her first unemployment check hadn’t arrived yet. If she didn’t get a job and its accompanying paycheck soon, she’d be singing for quarters on the street corner.
With a sigh, she pulled the cable bill out of the stack and picked up the phone to call the customer service line. She didn’t need the TV or land line. The cell phone was all she needed, but job hunting without Internet access would be tough. She’d have to borrow Monica’s WiFi or sit at some coffee shop for a few hours while she combed the employment web sites.
Her cell phone vibrated on the table beside her. From its sharp, old-fashioned ringtone, it couldn’t be anyone she knew. The caller ID listed a local number but not a name. She answered with as cheerful a hello as she could manage.
“Andrea? It’s Sarah Gentry.”
Andrea’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest. Yes! “Sarah, hello. How are you?”
“Great, thanks. I’m calling to let you know that I’ve spoken with my VP, Charlotte, about you. She’d like the chance to interview you herself before we make an offer. Are you free this morning at ten?”
Andrea fist pumped. A second interview was always a good sign. She checked her watch: nine-oh-five. That gave her about forty-five minutes to shower and dress. Piece of cake. “Yes, I can be there at ten.”
“Excellent. We’ll see you then.”
Andrea disconnected and let out a whoop of excitement, leaping out of her chair to dance. She put the cable bill back on the stack. Maybe she wouldn’t have to disconnect anything yet.
After a quick shower, she rummaged through her closet for something business-like and settled on a burgundy tweed skirt and a gold, scoop-neck blouse. She brushed her teeth and hair, swiped on some mascara, and applied a touch of tinted lip gloss. After checking her dark reddish-brown pumps for scuff marks and wiping them with a bit of water, she slipped them on, grabbed her purse and portfolio, and headed over.
The Lighthouse’s administrative office was convenient to her apartment, but Andrea suspected the shelters where the residents stayed wouldn’t be. She hoped the commute wasn’t too long. Anything would be better than her last job though. An hour and a half each way ate up way too much of her day. She’d barely had time for her daily run, a shower, and a quick dinner before it was time to go to bed. Weekends were for errands and chores, leaving little time for dating or socializing beyond a call to her parents and two siblings, and maybe a visit with Monica.
She parked in front of the building, checked her teeth in the rearview mirror, and popped a mini Altoids into her mouth before getting out of her car and approaching the building. Inside the lobby, the receptionist was typing madly at the keyboard. She looked up with a friendly smile. “Hi, Ms. Lindholm. Nice to see you again.”
“Hi, Tracy. You can call me Andrea. I guess I didn’t fool you this time.”
Tracy grinned broadly. “That’s only because I saw Dr. Gentry a minute ago in the break room, and she told me you were coming.”
Andrea chuckled. “I’m here to see Charlotte, but, um... I never asked her last name.” She gave an embarrassed grimace.
“West,” Tracy said. “She’s the one who signs our paychecks. Have a seat if you’d like. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
Moments later, a pretty, black woman in a snappy gray pantsuit and pink blouse opened the door behind Tracy’s desk. When she saw Andrea, her eyes widened. “My goodness! You must be Andrea. I’m Charlotte West.”
Andrea shook Charlotte’s hand. “Nice meeting you. I brought an extra copy of my résumé if you need it.”
Charlotte smiled as they walked down the hall toward the elevator. “I’ve seen it. You’re well qualified for the position, and I’m sure you would fit in perfectly. We’d be fortunate to have you aboard.”
Andrea wondered why Charlotte wanted to interview her if she was already convinced Andrea was qualified for the job. “Thank you.”
“Did Sarah mention she’s engaged?”
“Yes, she did.” What an odd question. Andrea was happy for Sarah but certainly not envious. She’d broken up with her last boyfriend over a month ago. Andrea missed having a man to go out with, stay up late talking to, and cuddle with. Dot, dot, dot, she thought with a grin. Though she’d liked him, her last boyfriend had pressed too hard for marriage. In fact, every man she met was looking for a commitment, and she wasn’t ready yet to face her wedding-day demons.
Charlotte glanced down at Andrea’s bare left hand and smiled. Was she looking for a ring? This interview was getting stranger by the moment.
Andrea followed Charlotte to Sarah’s office, where they found the CEO on the phone, scribbling on a notepad. Again, Andrea was taken aback by the sight of another version of herself. When Sarah met Andrea’s gaze, a similar shock crossed her face and gave way to a friendly smile. Andrea wondered how they would ever get used to seeing each other every day. Maybe Sarah’s role as CEO wouldn’t bring them together as often as that.
Andrea took the same chair she’d sat in the day before. Charlotte sat beside her and stared, smiling and shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t get over it.”
Once Sarah hung up, she stood and went around to the front of her desk. “Hi, Andrea. Nice to see you again.” She leaned forward to shake hands, and then sat one butt cheek on th
e front edge of her desk. She looked comfortable yet professional in navy slacks and a white blouse with navy polka dots. Her wrists were adorned by gold bangles, and she wore two rings on her right hand, in addition to the large diamond ring on her left. Her pearl necklace and matching pearl earrings went nicely with her outfit. “Did I tell you or didn’t I?” she asked Charlotte with a grin.
“You did, and I didn’t believe you. Stand up, will you, Andrea? I want to compare side-by-side.”
Andrea grinned and rose. She and Sarah stood side-by-side while Charlotte appraised them. Taking into account the height of their heels, Sarah was the taller of the two by almost an inch.
“It’s downright freaky how much you two look alike. Neither of you were adopted, were you?”
Andrea and Sarah looked at each other questioningly, but both shook their heads.
“I guess I could tell you apart,” Charlotte said. “Sarah, your jaw’s narrower, and your nose has a rounder tip. But if Andrea wore green contact lenses and penciled in a beauty mark on her jaw, she’d definitely fool me. She’d probably even fool your father.”
“The big question is: could she fool Blake?” Sarah asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s not like you two are close. How well can you imitate a Southern accent, Andrea?”
Andrea looked at Charlotte sideways, unsure she liked the direction of the conversation. “Why do you ask?”
Sarah gestured at the chair Andrea had just vacated as she pulled open a folding chair that had been leaning against the wall. “Have a seat. I’d like to offer you a job but probably not the one you were expecting. This job pays very well.”
“Very well,” Charlotte echoed.
Andrea had a terrible thought: what if The Lighthouse was a front for some illicit drug-running operation? She felt the blood drain from her face, and her hands began to perspire. “What job?”
“Nothing illegal or dangerous, I assure you.” Sarah shot her VP a glance. “I want to grant you power of attorney for a couple of weeks. In return, I’ll pay you a million dollars.”
Andrea burst out laughing. A million dollars. At least her new boss had a sense of humor.
Except Sarah wasn’t smiling. She and Charlotte shrugged at each other. “Is that not enough? I’d offer more, but I can only guarantee a million. That’s all I have left from the trust my mom set up for me before she died.”
Andrea’s laughter died. “Wait. You were kidding, right?”
Now Sarah laughed. “No, I wasn’t kidding. I’ll pay you a million dollars. Don’t worry, the money isn’t laundered or anything like that.”
A million dollars. Million! Andrea’s heart began to thump. That was a lot of money, and for Sarah to give Andrea, a total stranger, power over her life, there had to be a catch. “We only met yesterday,” she said. “Why would you grant me power of attorney? That’s a lot of trust I haven’t earned yet.”
“Nor I,” Sarah said. She leaned forward in her chair, her expression eager yet serious. “I’ve got an unusual situation that you’re uniquely qualified to help me with.”
“Because of how I look.”
Sarah pressed her lips together in an expression of regret. “As a lifelong feminist, it abhors me to think in terms of offering a woman a job because of what she looks like, but that’s in essence what I’m doing, yes.”
“Are you saying the position at The Lighthouse is off the table?”
“Absolutely not,” Sarah said. “In fact, the social worker position is yours if you want it. The salary is forty thousand dollars per year plus benefits. I’m just asking you to hear me out. If you’re willing to take on this other job, I’ll ask you to complete it before you begin your work at The Lighthouse. You have the option to accept The Lighthouse position today, decline the power of attorney role, and there are no hard feelings.”
Relieved, Andrea considered her words. Curiosity was edging out suspicion, and she wanted to at least hear what Sarah had in mind. “What, exactly, does the power of attorney role entail?”
An eager smile lit Sarah’s face. “Let me start at the beginning.”
“Before you do, I need to ask Andrea to sign a non-disclosure agreement.” Charlotte stood and picked up a folder from the desk. “Sarah’s about to divulge some deeply personal details of her life, not all of which are known to the public. Her father is a big name on Wall Street, and the last thing any of us needs is for this story—or any part of it—to end up in a tabloid.” She opened the folder and handed Andrea a single sheet of paper.
In simple language, it was an agreement not to divulge the details of the arrangement to anyone, in particular any members of the media, without Sarah’s express permission. Failure to abide by these terms through the effective date of the agreement was grounds for forfeiture of the payment and possible civil prosecution.
That meant she couldn’t even tell Monica, but without signing the NDA, she wouldn’t hear the story at all. She had to at least know what this was all about. Her curiosity was too great to stop now.
“All right.” Andrea accepted a pen and signed the agreement. Charlotte and Sarah signed as well, and Charlotte used the printer behind the desk to make three copies and handed one to Andrea, which she slipped into her portfolio.
“As Charlotte explained,” Sarah said, “my father is a big-money corporate high muckamuck. Have you ever heard of Gentry-Banks Industries?”
Andrea shook her head.
“Almost no one has, except for those who do a lot of trading on the New York Stock Exchange. GBI is the parent company for a lot of other companies, which are parent companies for smaller companies. One of my father’s latest acquisitions was a small company that designs cell phones. These guys are way ahead of their time—they developed implantable headsets that link to cell phones you wear on your wrist or on your belt. If you’re into geeky tech stuff, I can get you more info, but for now, suffice it to say this is futuristic sci-fi stuff.”
“I’m going to grab a refill,” Charlotte said. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water would be great,” Andrea said. “Thank you.”
“Nothing for me.” Sarah waved her hand at Charlotte’s back. “She knows all this. I don’t need to wait for her. Anyway, there’s a telecommunications company that’s hot after this new tech—Clarity Telecomm. The owner of the company is Gloria Thomas, widow of the founder. She wants the technology, and my father wants... something else.”
Andrea smiled. “So they’re romantically involved?”
“Oh, heavens no! Gloria’s a smart, vibrant woman whose standards—I hope—are much higher than that. No, my father wants me to marry, have babies, and generally live the life he believes everyone should live.”
Marry. Even hearing the word made Andrea cringe inside. “You don’t want a family?”
“I do, but not a traditional one. You see, I’m gay, and my father thinks my gayness can be cured by a rich hunk, namely Gloria’s son, Blake.”
That must have been the complicated engagement she had mentioned the day before. “How long have you been engaged?” Andrea asked.
“Three months.” Sarah picked up a picture frame on her desk and handed it to Andrea. Inside was a photo of Sarah and a dark-haired man with gorgeous hazel eyes and a dazzling smile.
“He’s so handsome,” Andrea said. She’d never put much weight on the importance of her date’s physical attractiveness, as long as he was funny and kind and considerate, average looks were good enough for her. She did like a man with soft lips though. Too thin and they felt hard, and kissing was important. Very important. This fellow, Sarah’s fiancé, had perfect lips—not too thick, not too thin. Were his hands rough or smooth? She handed the photo back, ashamed at her intensely personal appraisal of another woman’s fiancé.
“He’s a sweetheart, and he’s good to his mama.” Sarah looked at the photo and brushed a speck of dust from the glass before setting it back on her desk. “That’s a good sign, you k
now? When a man has a good relationship with his mama, he’ll probably treat his wife well. It doesn’t hurt that he’s filthy rich, either. He has his own successful business in addition to his family’s wealth.”
“But you don’t want to marry him.”
Sarah shook her head sadly. “Not in the least.”
Andrea didn’t blame her, and not just because Sarah was gay. If Andrea had to marry someone, she wouldn’t want some stuffy, rich snob. She’d want a down-to-earth husband with a sense of humor. “Why don’t you refuse? He can’t force you into a marriage you don’t want.”
“I tried telling my father no, but he’s given me an ultimatum. Either I marry Blake or he cuts me off financially and writes me out of his will. Now, I could pawn my jewelry and trade in my St. John and Armani for Sears Roebuck. That’s not the issue. The problem is that The Lighthouse and the seventy-three people we currently shelter, nurture, and protect are entirely at his mercy. Without his generous donations, we couldn’t stay open. He complains about it every time I see him, but he knows that it’s the only thing keeping him in my life. If he cuts off the funding, he might as well say good-bye to his only child. As cold as that bastard is, I’m surprised he hasn’t done it already, but for some reason, he clings to that little thread linking him to my mama—me. To his credit, he dearly loved her until the day she died, so he’s not quite a monster.”
Andrea’s mind was whirling. “So your engagement is the result of your father’s hold over you, but what does he have over your fiancé to compel him into the marriage?”
“His mama. She and my father are hammering out the details of a partnership that will take telecommunications to the next level. Blake would do anything for his mama, and this partnership is important to her because her late husband dreamed of doing something just like it. Without my father, that dream dies. So it’s not just my dream he’s threatening to kill. It’s Gloria Thomas’s too. Blake won’t let that happen if he can help it.”