“If you say ‘potential,’ I might kill you. Sam said that all the time. I just don’t see it.”
“Well, Sam was right.” She grinned mischievously and showed off her dimples, defusing the flash of anger that passed through Marielle’s eyes. “My cabin’s décor wasn’t much different when I moved in.”
“Really?” A glimpse of hope tinted Marielle’s question.
“Really,” Audrey confirmed.
“I bet you did it all by yourself, huh?”
Audrey giggled and sat at the table to start eating the steaming plate Marielle placed in front of her. “Thank you,” she said as Marielle sat across from her. “No, not the big stuff. We’re not all handy, you know.” Audrey regretted the comment when she saw the puzzled look Marielle sent across the table.
“We?”
Audrey mouthed the word lesbians so Felix couldn’t hear, and Marielle laughed.
“Oh, that’s not why I said that, silly,” she said. “You just seem so…I don’t know. Talented.”
“Why thank you. But no, I don’t know anything about tools. You, on the other hand, are extremely talented,” Audrey said, plunging her fork into the lasagna for another bite. “This is freaking delicious.”
“Thank you.”
“I have names for you when you get to the big renovations, but you could go far with the right decorative accessories and just a few touches of color here and there. That, I can help you with. A trip to IKEA would be a wonderful, inexpensive way to start. Get a few objects you really like and let them inspire you.”
“There’s no IKEA around, unfortunately.”
“Montreal isn’t that far. I was planning on going soon anyway. Why don’t you join me?” Audrey wanted to kick herself as soon as the invitation came out of her mouth, which was full of much-too yummy lasagna. So much for getting laid. What an idiot, she chided herself.
Those thoughts left her mind as soon as she witnessed the sheer excitement on Marielle’s face. “Are you serious?”
“Sure. Why not? I wanted to go to Quartier Dix30 to complete my new business-appropriate wardrobe. I hear they have great stores and restaurants. IKEA isn’t that far from there. We could drive Saturday morning, shop till we drop, share a great dinner, spend the night and go to IKEA on Sunday. What do you think?”
Marielle’s eyes sparkled with a new light. “I think that would be so much fun. Are you really serious? Oh my God!”
Audrey chuckled. She couldn’t help but share Marielle’s joy. “I’m dead serious. What about this weekend?”
“I’m working this weekend. But next weekend?”
“Deal.”
Audrey finished her lasagna, and they all went back to her house, where she took a relaxing bath with the faint voice of Marielle reading a bedtime story to Felix in the background. In French, of course.
* * *
By Thursday evening, Audrey was exhausted from her four days at the office but revived with a burst of energy when she arrived home around six forty-five p.m. and saw her brother’s giant red semitrailer truck parked on the street. Dennis was sitting on the stoop wearing a plain white T-shirt and faded jeans, holding a bottle of wine.
“Where the hell have you been, woman? I almost gave up and left, you know.” His lazy grin showed he was joking.
“That’ll teach you never to call before you come, dear brother.” Her tone was just as playful as she opened the door and he followed her inside.
In the absence of the dog’s usual frantic but friendly greeting, Dennis asked, “Where’s that little mop of a dog you call Ralph?”
“Probably at Marielle’s.” At the baffled look on his face, she continued, “Felix comes and frees him from his doggie prison every afternoon after school since I’m now an office employee and get home too late to take care of him, as you can see. Let me change. I can’t stand these clothes one more second.” She disappeared into the small hall leading to her bedroom and bathroom.
“That’s nice of Felix,” Dennis said loud enough for her to hear.
“Yes, it is. I guess you could call it quid pro quo since I have Felix here three nights a week so Marielle can go to work in the middle of the freaking night. Grilled cheese?” she offered a moment later as she reappeared wearing comfortable yoga pants and a pale blue T-shirt.
“Sure. So wait a minute. You have the boy here three nights a week, and they take care of your dog every night? What did I miss?”
“Her husband left her; she needed help,” she explained as she gathered a pan, butter, bread and cheese. He joined her at the counter and started buttering the bread. They’d gone through the drill so many times, there was no need to talk.
“I see. That’s too bad,” he simply said. She felt his eyes on her, scrutinizing her expression, and focused on the task of pouring milk in tall cups while trying not to betray any feelings. “So you’re what? The substitute dad?”
She punched his shoulder harder than she meant to, and he winced. “I’m not a substitute dad, asshole! I am not butch enough for that.” She stuck her tongue out at him, but he didn’t laugh.
“It’s me you’re talking to, sis. I saw the way you looked at her when you introduced us the other day. Are you forgetting I’ve always known which girls you liked, often before you did?”
“No, I’m not forgetting,” she said, resigning herself. “Okay I like her. I like her a lot. But we’re just friends. She’s straight. She needed help and I was there, and I’m happy I can help her. I thought you wanted me to have friends here, Dennis. Well, now I have one.”
“I wanted you to have a girlfriend and friends, yes. Not a friend you wish could be your girlfriend. You’re playing with fire here. You know that, right?”
“Yes, I know. But I’ll be fine, Dennis. Quit worrying.” She took the grilled cheese sandwiches out of the hot pan and set them on two plates before cutting them on the diagonal. He added chips to the plates, and they both sat at the island with their dinner and milk. “Besides, you’ll be happy to know I think one of my trainees is a proper lesbian, and from the way she looks at me I think she may even like me.”
Her declaration was rewarded with a wide smile, and she was relieved he seemed to be dropping the subject of Marielle. For now. “That’s great, Audrey. Tell me about her.”
“She’s about my age. Her name is Véronique. She’s gorgeous. She looks Italian. Kind of.” She grinned at Dennis and he laughed.
“You and your Italians. Good for you, sis. Go for it. But speaking of Italians, you know Theresa’s lesbian cousin moved to Brunswick? Theresa got her a job at the university library.” He winked at her, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Dennis, are you trying to lure me back to Brunswick with the promise of an Italian librarian?”
“I will do whatever it takes, sis.”
“Well, I’ll give you an A for effort on this one. Italian and librarian could definitely be a killer combination,” she said, laughing. “But as tempting as it is, I’m still saying no to Brunswick.”
“Okay. I won’t stop trying, but I’ll drop it for now. I’ll just be content that you have a potential love interest right here in sleepy St. Georges. But promise me you’ll pursue this kind-of-Italian woman, okay?”
“I promise I’ll explore the possibility, Dennis. Nothing more. I still think I may be better off just staying alone. We’ll see.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit,” she objected. “I have all I need.” She took their empty plates and glasses to the sink, then leaned against the counter with her arms crossed on her chest, facing her brother.
He smiled calmly. “Did I tell you I started writing?”
She let her arms fall as flashbacks of her younger brother’s teenage poetry came to mind. “Really? That’s so great, Dennis! What do you write? Poetry again?”
“No, I’m trying my hand at short stories now. Theresa is helping me. She says I have talent. But she might be biased.”
“I’m not. Let
me read what you’re doing, and I’ll tell you if you suck.”
He snorted a laugh. Of course they both knew better. Her brother would never cease to find new ways to fill her with pride. He could do no wrong in her eyes.
“I’ll think about it, Audrey. But my point is, I thought I had all I needed too, but when I started writing, I felt like I’d been ignoring a very big part of myself. I feel whole now. It’s fucking awesome.”
She slowly walked around the island and put her arm around his shoulder. “Okay, brother, I get it,” she said softly. “You’re about as subtle as your truck. I will open myself up to Véronique the almost-Italian woman.”
He planted a kiss on her cheek. “That’s all I ask.”
“Are you staying over? Felix will be here, but I can take the couch and you can have my bed.”
“Thank you but no. I want to make it to Quebec City tonight. And speaking of Quebec City, the parents are planning a trip there for their fortieth anniversary this summer, and they’re threatening to stop by to see you. I wanted to warn you.”
Panic flared through her. “What? Why Quebec City?”
“Well, I may have mentioned its romantic European flair and all,” he said shamefully.
“Dennis Eriksson, I’m going to kill you.”
Fortunately for him, a knock at the door saved him. Audrey opened the door for Marielle, Felix and Ralph, who demanded her attention by jumping relentlessly at her legs. She bent down to scratch his neck. “Hey, guys. You remember Dennis, right?”
“Yes, of course. Hi Dennis, nice to see you again,” Marielle said.
“Hi Dennis,” Felix said.
“Hi you two. I’d love to stay and talk, but you just caught me on my way out.” He got up and smiled warmly at Felix and Marielle before he quickly petted Ralph on his way to the door.
“I hope you’re not leaving on our account,” Marielle said. She blushed and looked down, appearing uncomfortable. Audrey knew her brother would perceive it just as well as she did, and he didn’t disappoint.
“Not at all, Marielle. I have to make it to Quebec City before nine, and I’m late. One of these days I hope we get to chat. I feel like an ass always running as soon as you arrive.”
“Don’t worry about it. Next time maybe you and Audrey can have dinner with us. Your sister seems to think I’m a good cook.”
“She’s the best,” Audrey confirmed.
“No doubt,” he said with a wink to Audrey before turning back to Marielle. “I would love that, thank you very much for the invitation. And then you and I can go on a short ride in my truck, buddy,” he added for Felix.
“Cool!”
“Okay, I’m out of here. Have a great night.”
Audrey followed him outside, and when they hugged goodbye he whispered into her ear, “Don’t let her break my sister’s heart, okay?”
“Okay, don’t worry,” she whispered back, hoping her voice projected more conviction than she really had. She watched the truck leave as she always did and went back inside, where Marielle’s voice was already floating from the loft as she read Felix a bedtime story. Audrey let the words soothe her tired mind and reveled in the musical language, imagining each French word rolling out of Marielle’s sumptuous mouth. Soon the house was quiet, and Marielle appeared at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Her smile was the most tender Audrey had ever seen. She grabbed the bottle of wine and presented it to Marielle in a wordless invitation. Marielle walked to her and put her hand on the bottle. She was so close Audrey could smell the subtle citrus soap she used.
Then Audrey felt Marielle’s breath on her face as she whispered so as not to wake Felix, “I really have to get to bed, but why don’t you bring it over tomorrow. I’ll cook us dinner.”
“Okay, that sounds good,” she answered. “Good night, then.”
“Good night Audrey.” Marielle caressed her arm as she passed Audrey on her way to the door, and Audrey remained immobile, powerless. It’s too late to save my heart, she thought. Sorry, brother.
* * *
The first week of training had gone well. Audrey was pleased with each individual’s progress. She believed the key to her own success was excellent customer service that made her clients want to come back for more. She wanted to share that knowledge and experience with Sam, Marjorie and Véronique, so they read about the success of companies like L.L. Bean, Disney and Starbucks, all renowned for customer satisfaction. They talked about the different elements that contributed to an enjoyable customer experience, such as friendliness, attention to details, always keeping promises and learning from less successful experiences. The group seemed to enjoy reading the case studies she’d chosen and discussing them with her.
Today she wanted them to start applying their knowledge to their own work. She asked Michel to set up a laptop and a projector in the conference room so she could show them real emails she’d received from her own clients. She’d carefully selected those that detailed specific problems and questions and simply asked them how they would answer. The exercise showed her each person’s strengths and weaknesses and allowed her to adapt next week’s training to their needs. The last email she shared with them before lunch was from Mr. O’Neal from O’Neal Dental Supplies, who was looking for a unique way to display brochures advertising his product in dentist offices across the United States. He wanted to create a brochure holder that would incorporate a large crystal O, because the O of O’Neal was such an important part of their company logo.
“What’s the problem with that request?” Audrey asked.
She wasn’t surprised when Sam immediately answered. “We can’t make that shape in crystal. We don’t have the capabilities to make a hole in the middle of the O.”
“That’s right, Sam. So what should we tell Mr. O’Neal?”
Véronique was the first to answer. Her experience with customer service made her by far the most comfortable in this type of exercise. “I would show empathy by saying how very sorry I am that we can’t make the holder he wants, and I would tell him we have several other holders he could choose from instead.”
“Good, Véronique. Anything else?”
“I would offer him other options,” Sam started. “We could make the O shape out of clear acrylic for a very similar look. Or here’s an idea. There’s silver in his logo, so we could make it out of aluminum. That would look great.”
“Excellent. I hadn’t thought of the aluminum idea. Mind if I steal it from you?” They laughed and Audrey smiled.
“Not at all,” he answered with a hint of a blush. Sam had impressed Audrey with his knowledge all week, and she was learning at least as much from him as he was learning from her.
“Anything else? Marjorie?”
“Well, from what we’ve been reading all week, I would say that a combination of Véronique’s answer and Sam’s would be the best option. We need to show empathy and apologize for not being able to do exactly what the client wants but then offer concrete options that are doable.”
Audrey smiled at Marjorie. She had no experience in this field, but her mind was sharp and she absorbed knowledge like a sponge. “Excellent, you are absolutely right, Marjorie.” Marjorie blushed and smiled with pride. Sam turned to Marjorie, and the two seemed to share a glance that Audrey could swear was filled with mutual affection. She looked away, feeling as though she was intruding on an intimate moment and was surprised when she saw a comparable expression in Véronique’s eyes, this one directed at her. It was her turn to blush.
“Okay,” she said, “let’s break for lunch. See you in an hour.”
The group left the conference room, and Audrey went straight to her cubicle, where she’d spent her lunch hour every day since the pizza ambush of Monday. She used the time to answer emails so her clients didn’t feel neglected. So far everything was under control. Shortly after she sat in the most uncomfortable office chair she’d ever experienced, Véronique’s slender body appeared in her peripheral vision. She kept her attention on th
e computer screen until Véronique leaned against her desk, making it impossible for Audrey to continue ignoring her. Audrey then looked up into dark eyes and resisted the impulse to scan the long, shapely legs revealed by a snug skirt that ended a couple inches above Véronique’s knees.
“Training was very interesting this morning, Audrey. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it. I think it’s all starting to come together now.”
“I agree.”
An awkward silence followed as they stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like hours before Véronique finally dared, “Do you like Chinese food?”
“I do. It’s one of the things I miss most about New York. I can’t believe there’s no decent Chinese restaurant around here.”
“Actually, one just opened up not too far from here a couple weeks ago. I hear it’s quite good. Would you like to go for lunch sometime next week? My treat.”
Audrey was about to make an excuse to refuse the invitation, but her brother’s face popped into her mind, reminding her of the promise she’d made. “Okay, that sounds like a lovely idea.”
“Great, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll let you go back to work now. See you later.” Véronique’s intentions were clear in the seductive way she blinked and slowly brushed a strand of blond hair off Audrey’s face before she left her cubicle. The brief contact didn’t leave Audrey indifferent. She closed her eyes and imagined the thin fingers on other parts of her body and was pleasantly comforted by gentle warmth in her belly. This might be a lovely idea, indeed, she mused.
* * *
It was not yet seven thirty as Marielle stirred the fennel slowly browning in olive oil. Last night she’d stopped to check the bottle of wine Audrey was holding and noted it was chardonnay. She’d browsed the Internet before she went to bed to find a recipe that would pair well with the wine and decided on salmon steak with a fennel-and-curry sauce. She’d already fed Felix his own salmon steak sans sauce but had decided she would wait to eat and share a glass of wine with Audrey tonight to celebrate the end of Audrey’s week. Preparing the meal for Audrey made her feel giddy. She refused to analyze the feeling. Not tonight. They deserved a pleasant evening. She added the scallions to the pan and stirred again. Then followed with the curry powder.
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