Fighting Fate

by Louise Clark

  Sue’s phone switched over to voicemail. Faith left a message while her fingers keyed in the commands to open her messages. As she put the handset down she opened one from Ava Taylor that made her sit back in her chair. Sue Green was in the hospital and was not expected to return to work for six weeks or more. Faith reached for the phone again, then decided this deserved a face-to-face discussion.

  Ava’s office was located at one end of a corridor. She and Ralph Warren shared the hallway along with the chief financial officer, their secretaries, and a conference room. Ava’s office occupied a corner of the building and boasted windows on the two exterior walls, although it was a few feet smaller than Ralph’s.

  Ava was on the phone when Faith arrived. She waved Faith into her office, pointing at the visitor’s chair in front of her desk.

  While Ava talked, Faith looked at her surroundings. The office was furnished with an expensive mahogany executive desk and credenza. The two interior walls were the basic cream that covered all the walls in the NIT suite. There were two prints by local artists on each wall, hanging so they would attract the eye. Every other surface was bare, the papers tidily filed, apparently as soon as they had been handled.

  It always surprised Faith that in her six months with the company Ava had made no changes to her office space. Faith was sure of this, because she was the one who had chosen the artwork and laid out the furniture. It was almost as if Ava saw herself as a visitor, not a member of the NIT family.

  Ava put down the phone. As usual she was dressed stylishly in a tailored business suit. She looked both efficient and fragile and made Faith feel that her more casual outfit of slacks and a blouse was not only frumpy, but accentuated every flaw in her five-foot nine frame. Ava pushed up the sleeve of the white lightweight summer jacket so she could glance at her watch. “I have five minutes before Greg Chang and the rest of his team arrive to discuss their new project. What’s up?”

  “I read your e-mail about Sue. What happened?”

  Ava shrugged. “A car accident. Her husband said she was broadsided by some kid doing forty miles above the speed limit.”

  One thing you could depend on from Ava Taylor: she’d never let sentiment get in her way. Faith, on the other hand was horrified. “She’s lucky to be alive. How serious are her injuries?”

  Ava fiddled with the telephone, which must have shifted from its allotted space while she talked on it. “I don’t have any details on that.” When the instrument was perfectly aligned with the edge of the desk she contemplated her work for a minute, then nodded with satisfaction. She looked at Faith. “I’m worried about the impact Sue’s absence will have on NIT.”

  “Of course,” Faith searched Ava’s sweet features, looking for sympathy or concern, but there was no emotion in her expression.

  “Cody Simpson will have to take over Sue’s duties,” Ava said, as if this was the most reasonable thing in the world. Her full, tender mouth pursed. “That means he won’t be able to focus on the new network. This could be a serious setback for the company. I am very disappointed in Sue.”

  Faith figured Sue wasn’t too happy at this moment either. Nor, for that matter, was she. Or probably Cody Simpson. “Wouldn’t it be easier to empower the staff to do their own troubleshooting where they can?”

  The look Ava shot Faith was a mix of amazement and disappointment. “That would not be efficient.”

  Faith threw out another option. Anything to avoid working closely with Cody Simpson. “Perhaps it would be more practical to hire a temporary software manager. That way Cody could continue development of the new system.”

  “Not in the budget,” Ava said.

  “Surely it would be more effective to allow Cody to focus on those important projects he’s working on, rather than have him troubleshoot computer glitches.”

  Ava waved away this sensible observation as she checked her watch again. “Cody Simpson is an expert. He can solve the kind of simplistic problems your staff generates in minutes while your clerks would take hours. Now, I expect Mr. Chang to arrive at any moment.”

  Faith took the hint and left. She would have to seek help from Cody Simpson for software problems. What a disaster.

  Sue thought he was terrific to work with because he paid little attention to day-to-day routines and let her do her own thing. While Faith approved of delegation and empowering staff as a philosophy, she could foresee problems when Cody was the person to whom the task was being delegated.

  Back in her office Faith stared at her phone as she slowly sank into her chair. Angela’s computer was still out. That meant she was going to have to phone Cody Simpson to ask for help.

  She had an image of Cody’s face, framed by black hair, blue eyes fringed with long, black lashes and his body, so tall and straight with long, lean muscles. He didn’t look like a computer geek. Nor did he act like one, except for his inability to stick to a schedule. Her mother thought she should open herself up to new experiences. Sue Green thought she should date the man. She didn’t intend to follow the advice of either woman, but it did look like she was about to find out what was inside Cody’s attractive external packaging. She picked up the phone.

  And reached his voicemail. Leaving a message she went back to her task list. An hour went by, then two. Angela wandered in, said her computer was still down, the filing was done, and that she was going to lunch. Faith called Cody, got his voicemail again, and decided it would be easier to speak to him face-to-face rather than leave him a string of voicemails.

  Her first stop was the desk of June the accounting clerk who doubled as her assistant and the office receptionist. “I’ve been leaving messages for Cody Simpson, but he hasn’t replied. Is he in, June?”

  As June checked the office roster her chin-length sable brown hair swept over her cheek. Absently, she tucked it behind her ear. “Yup. I haven’t seen him, though. He checked in this morning before I arrived. He’s still in the building somewhere. Do you want me to track him down?”

  The gleam in June’s gray eyes suggested that there was nothing she’d enjoy more than spending the next day and a half chasing after Cody Simpson. Faith said hastily, “No. I’ll just pop upstairs to his office. I want to stretch my legs anyway.”

  By his own request Cody’s office was down a hallway and around a corner, tucked away from pretty much everyone else in the company. Sue said he liked it there because the room had a great view. Faith figured it was because the location made it difficult for anyone to just casually drop by. You had to be on a mission to find Cody Simpson.

  Even being on a mission didn’t guarantee that Cody would be where he was supposed to be.

  As Faith stared into the empty office she tried to figure out what to do next. She needed to find Cody Simpson so they could sort out an arrangement that acknowledged Ava’s demands and worked for both Faith and Cody. Then there was the immediate problem of Angela’s current crisis. That needed to be fixed, now. She figured that she’d have a rebellion on her hands if she tried to make Angela spend the rest of her day filing.

  She looked around. The hallway was still, the office definitely empty. There was no point in sticking around. She’d have to leave a note asking for a meeting and hope that Cody saw it and responded. Trouble was, she hadn’t brought a pen or paper. She took a step through the doorway.

  A rustle of sound behind her alerted her that she was no longer alone moments before an amused male voice said, “Hey good-looking, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Chapter 3

  The voice was a rich, silky baritone. Faith felt heat creep into her face and flush her features. She turned slowly, knowing who was in the corridor behind her and absolutely furious at what he’d said. “Well, well, well, it’s Cody Simpson. You don’t answer your voicemail.”

  He grinned at her, unrepentant. “I try not to.” Several inches taller than Faith’s leggy five-nine, he was able to look down at her.

  That annoyed her, as did the little glimmer of appreciation for
his lean, muscular build that wouldn’t go away. When? She thought. When did he have the time to keep his body in shape? As far as she knew he spent most of his waking hours at a computer. “Have you heard about Sue’s accident?”

  His very engaging smile faded. “Yeah. Tough luck. Some drunk ran a red and slammed into the side of her car. She’ll be okay, but for now she’s got broken ribs, lacerations, and internal bruising. She feels pretty miserable.”

  His concerned response was in marked contrast to Ava’s crisp disinterest. “You talked to her?”

  He raised black brows in an expression of surprise, as if he wouldn’t consider any other course of action. “Of course. I called the hospital as soon as I heard.”

  Embarrassed color washed Faith’s cheeks. Though Sue didn’t report to her, she was always friendly and Faith enjoyed working with her. She should have checked on Sue herself. That she hadn’t even thought to call the hospital was a mistake and she hated making mistakes. It didn’t matter that Sue reported to Cody. Faith still should have checked. She made a mental note to send Sue some pastries and a card. Sue would like that.

  Cody’s marvelous blue eyes narrowed, then suddenly he smiled in a mischievous way that hinted at naughty behavior to come. Faith was still trying to figure out exactly what that look signified when his hands caught her around the waist and he picked her up as easily as he would a ten-year-old child.

  She shrieked. “What are you doing?”

  He spun her around, then put her down a couple of feet away. “You were blocking the doorway to my office,” he said, as if manhandling a woman was an everyday occurrence, those marvelous blue eyes of his still wickedly amused. “Come on in.” He sauntered through the door, obviously expecting her to follow.

  Faith stood in the opening and considered her options. Cody Simpson might be gorgeous to look at, but someone needed to talk to him about his social skills. He couldn’t go around calling a co-worker ‘good-looking’ then pick her up as if she was a cute little pet. Come to think of it, someone ought to tell him that voice and e-mail had been invented to make communications easier, not to shut them down completely.

  Which brought her back to why she was standing in his doorway. She’d come with a problem. If she refused to talk to him now and stomped off in a huff, she’d never get an answer from him because she’d have to start voice and emailing him again and he didn’t answer his voicemail or e-mail messages. Which was why she’d come up here in the first place.

  Swallowing her annoyance, she swept the room in what she hoped was a coolly critical way as she strolled into the office. “Not too shabby,” she said, aiming for just the right amount of disdain. It wasn’t easy.

  The office was big, far bigger than Faith’s. In fact it was the size of the executive offices and had a view of the Charles River, with the city of Boston beyond. She coveted the office for its size, its view and for the appealing way it had been decorated. The furniture was gorgeous, solid mahogany that gleamed deep molten russet in the sun. A Persian rug woven in rich tones of sapphire, chocolate and gold disguised the beige industrial carpet that covered the floor in all of the offices. There wasn’t a file cabinet to be seen, but there were three computers and they were all on.

  Clearly, the office was a reflection of Cody’s position in the company. With the specialized software he created Faith figured that he could pretty much ask for whatever he wanted and he’d get it. A big fancy office was just the tip of the iceberg.

  Which made Ava’s authoritarian edict that Cody fix computer problems while Sue was out all the harder to understand.

  Cody glanced around the office as if seeing it through Faith’s eyes. “Thanks.” He headed over to one corner where a small bar fridge sat. “Want a coffee? Or a pop?” He picked up a coffee beaker from the brewer that perched on the top of fridge and held it up in open invitation.

  Faith leaned against the doorjamb and tried hard not to be jealous. The personal coffee machine was strictly against regulations. Ava had decreed that all NIT employees use the coffeemaker in the lunchroom for their caffeine intake. Supposedly that was to ensure people from different departments got to know each other and to generate a sense of belonging to the organization. Faith figured it allowed Ava to tally how many cups of coffee each individual drank and the cost to the company. Cody’s personal coffeemaker indicated that either Ava didn’t journey up here much or he was too valuable to NIT to force him into the mold the rest of the staff was expected to fit.

  The small bar fridge, which presumably held the pop, was another no-no. Faith shook her head, a little resentful of his successful flouting of the rules. Cody must have thought that she was responding to his offer, for he shrugged and poured himself a cup before he sauntered over to his desk and leaned against the edge. That put him with his back toward the window and gave him an advantage, for the mid-day sun was streaming over his shoulder into Faith’s eyes.

  As she shifted away from the door, stationing herself so that she no longer faced the sunlight, she couldn’t help but notice the way his position drew the fabric of his jeans tight against his muscular thighs. She swallowed and resisted the urge to sigh in appreciation. Cody Simpson might be great to look at, but so far he had proved to be a real pain to work with. Something she’d be well advised to remember.

  He gestured to an over-stuffed chair covered in cream-colored leather that would be suitable for an upscale living room. “Have a seat.”

  “No thanks.” The chair would put her back in the sunlight’s path. Besides, she was here to do battle and that was better done on her feet. “If you haven’t heard my voicemail,” she said, “did you by chance read my e-mail?”

  He stared over the rim of his cup as he sipped, his blue eyes glazed in thought. Then, quite suddenly, his brilliant gaze focused on Faith’s face. “The network problem.”

  Well, that was a positive sign. “That’s right. But the glitch seems to have spread. Now Angela’s terminal is completely frozen.”

  His eyes lit up and he looked intrigued for a brief moment. “Really? That’s odd. Are you sure it isn’t operator error?”

  “Angela’s pretty competent. She believes it’s in the software. Or perhaps in the computer itself.”

  Cody put down his mug. “Okay. I’ll get on to it.”

  Surprise flickered through Faith. She’d expected a hard fight. After all, Cody hadn’t responded to any of the phone messages she’d left, or the e-mail’s she’d sent. It shouldn’t be this easy. Still, she might as well be gracious. Maybe Cody Simpson was one of those people who liked to have face-to-face communication before he acted. No harm in playing along. She smiled at him. “Thanks, Cody. I appreciate this.”

  He raised black brows. “No problem. Remind me tomorrow, okay?” His eyes gleamed. “Come up and visit again. I can’t guarantee I’ll be any better at listening to voicemail tomorrow.”

  Feeling as if she’d just had all the air punched from her lungs, Faith said faintly, “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. It’s lousy timing, but I think I’ll be able to break long enough to fix the problem. Should only take fifteen minutes or a half-an-hour and I can manage that.”

  “Tomorrow isn’t good enough!”

  “It’s the best I can do.”

  He sounded disgustingly cheerful about it. “You just spent fifteen minutes talking to me! If you’d listened to your voicemail you could have used this time to come down and fix Angela’s problem.”

  “If I hadn’t discovered you hovering outside my office when I came back from the operations center I would have been working on my own projects. I wouldn’t have had fifteen minutes to spare. Besides, if Angela is as experienced as you say she is, she can probably fix the problem herself.”

  “That’s not her job!” The certain knowledge that there was nothing she could do to force Cody Simpson to do what he was supposed to do had her voice rising.

  “It’s not my job either,” Cody said, sounding perfectly justified and annoyingly calm.<
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  “It is while Sue is ill!”

  He picked up the coffee cup again, holding it in both hands. “You’ve been talking to Ava Taylor.”

  There was something in his voice that warned Faith there was more to come. A coldness that had her saying warily, “I report to Ava.”

  He contemplated the interior of the coffee mug for a minute. When he looked up those marvelous warm blue eyes of his had cooled to a pale, chilly shade. “Let’s get this straight. My job is writing software and developing the network protocol for this company. If I have time I will pitch in for Sue while she’s off, but that’s it. I’ll help if all other attempts to correct the problem have failed, but I am not the company’s computer troubleshooter.”

  Faith’s temper rose. It wasn’t her fault that Ava had decided differently. She hated conforming to regulations that she didn’t think made sense and she really hated being in the position of defending them. It made her grumpy, if not downright snarly. She had to get out of here before she said or did something that would make working with Cody Simpson impossible. She stomped to the doorway. There she stopped and turned back to face him. “A lot of good you are. So what am I supposed to do when problems come up?”

  “Cope,” Cody said.

  “Jerk,” Faith retorted, completely forgetting her good intentions. She slammed the door as she left and hoped that the force would be enough to shake the illegal coffeemaker off its perch on the equally illegal bar fridge.

  What a day! Faith pushed open the front door of her home. Located in Lexington, one of the suburbs in the greater Boston area, the house was nearly two hundred years old. Designed in the traditional gracious New England style, with a white clapboard exterior and black shutters on the sash windows, it was an inviting remnant of a time long past. She stood for a moment listening to the quiet and appreciating the stillness before she entered the beautifully proportioned hall. She tossed her keys on an antique half table in the Chippendale style that sat against the robin’s egg blue wall, then slipped out of her shoes. The smooth old hardwood floor was cool under her feet. She could feel her tension easing already. She dropped her purse beside the table, then ran lightly up the wide staircase to the second floor.