No Time for Apologies (The No Brides Club Book 5)

by Jean C. Gordon

  “Fine. She asked Lynda, their housekeeper, to come in yesterday and this afternoon.”

  “That’s how you got to come to Ava’s party.”

  “Something like that.” Jon flicked the directions and flexed his left hand before placing it back on the steering wheel. “Sorry, my parents spent our breakfast time together trying to convince me that Grandpa should be in a nursing home or at least some kind of senior living facility, and I should sell the farm to pay for it.”

  “Oh.” That explained his mood. “As you texted me, no apologies needed. I know how it is. The culture shock of coming from the city to Genesee to visit family.” She slapped her fingertips to her lips. Jon lived with family, his grandfather. In the country.

  “For me it’s the company, not the culture.”

  With the meeting email and her new-found resolve foremost in her mind, Kate shouldn’t have cared about his parents or anything else that would move their relationship off the colleagues/coworkers plain. But she felt for Jon being an only child. She’d had her sister and brother as potential allies in disagreements with her parents. “Should I put on some music?” she reached for the audio knob.

  “Sure.”

  “What we listened to on the way?”

  “Fine.”

  After ten miles of silently taking in the scenery of the Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge out her window, a site she’d seen countless times before, the sound of the radio wasn’t enough.

  “Did you check your work email this morning?” Kate asked to initiate a conversation not about family or their personal lives. Keep it professional, or at least neutral.

  “Pardon? My mind was elsewhere.”

  “Your work email. You should have gotten a message from Bob about a meeting, sent yesterday.

  Jon made a sound that could have been a laugh or a snort. “I’m going to admit to not even bringing my tablet with me to check my work email. Bad employee?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” But it didn’t sound like someone who was angling for a permanent position at the fund family. Her promotion. She studied his profile. The straight nose, strong jawline. Studied it too long.

  He turned toward her with s smile. “Do I have raspberry jam or maybe egg on my face.”

  “No.” She fumbled. I was …” She couldn’t tell him she was trying to read whether he was feigning disinterest in work or truthfully wanted a position at DeBakker only for the summer. The old, high-school Jon wouldn’t have been smooth enough to fool her. Or maybe she’d underestimated him then—and was now.

  She cleared her throat. “We meet the Strategy Group the first Monday of the month. As my assistant, you were added to the attendees.” By whom, she wasn’t sure. Bob or those higher ups he’d referred to.

  “Sounds like it could be interesting.”

  Kate went on to explain a typical meeting, with Jon making comparisons to the way things were handled at the hedge fund he’d worked at in Boston. When they wore that topic out, Kate rested her head against the seat headrest, closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm summer sun on her face. And, true to form, she felt herself drift off to sleep.

  She didn’t wake up until Jon was slowing down the car for the Thruway exit at Catskill, to drop Kate off at the Hudson train station.

  “You’re with me again.”

  “Yes, I do have a habit of sleeping on trips if I’m not driving.” And it had stopped them from veering off into any personal conversation.

  “I was thinking,” he said pulling away from the tollbooth. “you should come up to our place some weekend. Get out of the city. Meet my grandpa. He said he remembers me talking about you when I was a kid.”

  Kate didn’t know where that invitation had come from, nor what underlying meaning it might have. But if she was surprised by his invitation, it wasn’t half as much as she was by her almost immediate reply.

  “I think I’d like that.”

  Jon wasn’t sure why he’d invited Kate to spend a weekend at the farm, but he did know he had to stop dwelling on it. The extra time added to his commute while a crew cleared debris from the track wasn’t helping. He’d already finished the book he’d brought for the ride and checked his email twice, alerting Kate to his delay and accepting Bob’s meeting invitation, although now he might not make it to the office by 9:30. He’d missed the 6:40 train out of Rhinebeck and had had to wait for the 7 o’clock one. Even if he took a cab instead of the subway as usual, there’d be the extra time spent fighting other financial district commuters for a ride.

  The conductor stepped into the business section car. “Folks, the debris has been cleared. We’ll be moving momentarily, expecting to arrive at Penn Station about 20 minutes off schedule.”

  Jon tapped his email app to let Kate know his ETA. He should be able to just make the meeting. Granted the job was only temporary, but he was barely into his second week with DeBakker, and this was his first corporate meeting. It wouldn’t be good to miss it, especially since he was the only junior analyst he recognized on the meeting list. He assumed Kate had asked that he attend, to bring him up to speed on the work he’d be doing.

  When he’d reached Penn Station, Jon had lucked out with a rideshare to the office. He hit his cubicle at 9:15, dropped his stuff and stepped across the aisle to Kate’s. “Hey.”

  Kate spun her chair to face him. “Jon, you did make it.”

  “Yep. Anything I need to know before we go?”

  “Not, really. I’ll be ready in a minute.” She turned back to her laptop.

  Jon retreated to his cubicle and chugged the coffee he’d grabbed on his way to his desk. Somehow he’d expected something more, something different from Kate this morning. He placed his cup on the desk. What? An atta-boy for making the meeting? He had to admit that dashing off the train and catching the rideshare to arrive at the office with plenty of time to make the meeting had revived some of the old adrenalin of his busy Boston days. And while the feeling had been good, he knew that another investment services position wasn’t what he wanted long-term.

  “Ready?” Kate stood at his cubicle entrance.

  “Okay, if I bring my coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  They headed for the conference room, Jon expecting some direction from Kate, despite her answer to his earlier question. His weekend in Genesee had affected him in more ways than solidifying his determination to help Grandpa maintain his independence. He’d spent the last part of the train ride and the car ride envisioning the meeting. What he’d pictured was Kate and him with their heads together, mapping out a united front, as they had when they’d worked together on the Mathletes team. Why, he didn’t know. He glanced sideways at Kate, who matched her stride to his, jaw set.

  She knew something about the meeting he didn’t and didn’t want to share that information. “Is it usual to invite all new investment hires to one strategy meeting as an introduction to company processes?”

  Kate’s pace slowed nearly imperceptibly and then picked back up.

  “I noticed Bob’s meeting email didn’t include anyone at my level that I’ve met.”

  “No.”

  Jon pursed his lips. What was with the monosyllable answers? “No, it isn’t usual or no Bob didn’t invite anyone else at my level.”

  “Both.” Kate hesitated. “He made you part of the meeting because of your experience at the Boston hedge fund. He—”

  “Kate.” A man stepped out of the office they were passing.

  She nodded. “Gregg.”

  “You must be our new guy, Jon Smith,” Gregg cut her off before Kate could introduce him, if that had been her plan. She was acting so weird, almost as if she’d prefer he weren’t around. Her way of keeping their professional contact separate from their personal relationship. Friendship. Whatever it was that had prompted him to invite her to the farm for a weekend and her to agree.

  Gregg stepped in stride with them. “Gregg Hanley, Aggressive Growth Fund manager. I was on vacation last week. Good to have y
ou on board. Your hedge fund was at the top of the rankings the last three years you managed it. Nice work.”

  Kate stiffened beside Jon, making him wonder if there was a rivalry or some other animosity between her and Gregg.

  Jon tightened his shoulder blades. “Thanks. I’m hoping to get some different perspectives from the analysts’ view while I’m here. For classes I’m teaching in the fall.”

  “Adjunct? I’ve done that a couple times. Not enough money for the time.”

  “No,” Jon corrected. “I’m a full-time instructor at Columbia-Green Community College.”

  Confusion spread across Gregg’s face. “I thought—”

  “Jon. Kate,” Bob interrupted Gregg as they stepped into the conference room. “Take the seats beside me, so I can introduce Jon.”

  Kate’s jaw tightened as Bob motioned them to three empty chairs at the far end of the nearly full table. Jon stepped back to let Kate go first, and her stony expression softened. This. The constant ebb and flow of undercurrents, Jon thought, was one of the reasons I left the hedge fund. Foolishly, he’d thought he could avoid it here with his lower level position.

  Bob waited for Kate, Gregg, and him to take their seats. “Before we start our reports, I want to introduce Jon Smith, a new analyst. As you all know, Jon comes to us well recommended from Boston’s top hedge fund.”

  Jon resisted squirming in his seat as all eyes in the room turned toward him. Everyone knew? How? And why was his background so important? He’d made it clear when he’d interviewed for the assistant analyst position that he was here for that and that only, and only for the summer.

  Bob continued, “Introduce yourself and your position with DeBakker before your report.”

  The reporting went around the table, starting with the fund managers, whose welcomes seemed to be a subtle form of lure-with-praise and dissect. They were followed by the senior analysts whose welcomes as a group weren’t nearly as welcoming.

  As the reporting came around to Kate last, Jon relaxed with the thought that the meeting was almost over. Or at least his part in it was.

  As Kate opened her report folder, a man Jon hadn’t met yet entered the conference room.

  “David DeBakker,” she whispered.

  One of the senior partners.

  She cleared her throat to begin her report.

  “Kate, let Smith, handle the report,” Mr. DeBakker said. “Give his view. So we can see his mettle.”

  Her mouth snapped shut, and she pushed the folder to Jon. Her hurt, perhaps apparent only to him, wove itself around his chest and tightened.

  He glanced at the pages. Kate had a short intro, followed by concise data and economic commentary in bullet points. Just as he would if he’d done the report. He could successfully wing this. Jon glanced at Kate to give her a silent affirmative and immediately returned his gaze to the report. If the virtual spikes of tension radiating from her had been actual spikes, he’d be a dead man, as would most of the rest of the meeting attendees. Maybe he should reevaluate the “good luck” of his catching the rideshare this morning after the train delay.

  Unbelievable. Kate had half a mind to tender her resignation then and there. The other half, the rational unemotional one, said she wasn’t giving up her promotion that easily. The opening for the Growth and Income Fund Manager position had to be what this nonsense was all about. She tapped her fingers on the table as Jon started the report, reading her introductory words. She relaxed slightly against the back of the chair as he continued, using her bullet-point observations without any commentary from him, as she’d expect an assistant to do.

  “Thanks, Smith. That was Kate’s report. What’s your outlook for the quarter for growth and income?”

  Kate clenched her jaw. She shouldn’t let it get to her, but Mr. DeBakker addressing Jon as Smith and her as Kate did.

  “I’ve only been here four days, and most of my prior experience is in venture capital and addressing the strategic resource needs of lower middle-market companies, not general growth and income investing.”

  That didn’t sound like a guy who was hot for her job, current or future.

  “But …”

  Kate straightened in her seat. Here it comes.

  “My assessment is the same.”

  A frown flashed on DeBakker’s face as he glanced from Jon to Bob. “You did receive the email about our opening for an investment manager for the Growth and Income Fund?” he asked as if to qualify his expectations of Jon.

  “Yes, sir, I did.” Jon crossed his arms over his chest.

  DeBakker nodded, and a rustle went around the table. He must be the from above Bob had referred to in answer to her question about Jon receiving the open position bulletin from HR.

  “I’m going to be frank,” DeBakker said. “We’d like you to join DeBakker permanently.”

  Gazes from the other senior analysts—some gloating and some pitying, depending on whether they were competing for the promotion—and the fund managers focused en masse on Kate. She briefly wished a sink hole would open in the floor and suck her in.

  No! Her spine stiffened. She wasn’t going to lay down and roll over. She needed this promotion if she wanted to buy her apartment and escape the toxic culture to any decent position with another firm. She’d been a senior analyst here longer than the industry average for fund managers, which would be a minus if she applied elsewhere if she didn’t get the promotion.

  “… be frank.” Jon’s voice pulled her back into the meeting.

  “As I told Bob and HR, I don’t see my tenure here as anything more than a summer learning experience for the college courses I’ll be teaching full time in the fall.”

  “I admire your honesty,” DeBakker said. “But don’t write us off too quickly. DeBakker-Glem can use a man with your background.”

  Had DeBakker really emphasized man? Or was she oversensitive? Winces from a few of the others, female and male said he had.

  “I appreciate your confidence in me, but I assure you my short time here has shown me that I have a long way to go to match Kate’s and probably others’ acumen in the growth and income sector.”

  Kate willed herself not to blush, uncertain whether the warmth flowing through her was from Jon’s praise in front of everyone or because the praise had come from Jon. And she couldn’t help but take some solace in the fact that DeBakker looked as uncomfortable as she felt. People didn’t often turn down an offer from DeBakker-Glem, especially one from a senior partner made as publicly as the offer made to Jon. The warmth left as quickly as it had come. Jon’s equally public shutdown might reflect badly on her, as his supervisor.

  DeBakker left the conference room with a “I’ll let you get on with your meeting.”

  “All right,” Bob said. “Kate, do you have anything to add?”

  Her mind blanked. In reference to what?

  “To your and Jon’s report and quarterly recommendations?” Bob prompted.

  Her uncharacteristic loss of control over herself and her internal thoughts was not the way to work herself into the almost all-male domain of fund management. She got a grip on her professional self. “Yes. One small point, a tweak to my Treasury Bill weighting recommendation based on Kim’s”— the only female portfolio manager currently at DeBakker—“income fund group’s report.”

  “Email us your updated report.” Bob said.

  “I’ll have it to you early afternoon.”

  “Great. Anyone have anything else?” Bob looked around the table. “Then, let’s get to work.”

  The managers and analysts began shuffling out. Kate held back to catch her fellow senior analyst on Kim’s team and ask him to forward her the source for the new data he’d used for his report. She hadn’t had time this morning to go over everything that had come in Friday and update her projected outlook for the meeting.

  That’s what I get for taking time off from this place. Kate gathered her report folder from the table on her way out. But it had been good to see
her family and kick back in a slower paced environment for a couple of days.

  “Eek!” Kate slapped her free palm against her chest as she exited the conference room. Jon stood right outside, leaning a shoulder against the wall. Her surprise was replaced by admiration for how cool and calm Jon had been in the back and forth with Mr. DeBakker—in contrast to her tightly strung and double knotted nerves. And she’d only been peripherally involved.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you. Fred waylaid me for a few words. Then, I saw you were on your way out, so I waited.”

  Fred. The Growth and Income Fund manager who was retiring.

  Jon pushed away from the wall. Somewhere between yesterday and today, she’d forgotten how tall he was. Not that his height had anything to do with the business at hand.

  “Fred had questions about the report. Positive questions.”

  Kate swallowed. Was her internal upheaval that apparent that Jon had to add that the questions had been positive? If so, David DeBakker’s appearance at the meeting had thrown her even more off kilter than she’d thought.

  “I told him I hadn’t worked on it, so he’d need to check with you.”

  “Thanks, I’ll touch base with him when I send the revised report.”

  As they approached their work area, Jon looked around over his right, then left shoulder. He dropped his voice. “David DeBakker. Does he drop in on your strategy meetings often?”

  “Like he did today? Never. You’re quite the draw.”

  Jon laughed. “Yeah, I think at least half the people in the room mentally drew a bull’s eye on me.”

  “That would be about right. All the senior analysts.”

  “Including you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “There’s nothing wrong with the Growth and Income Fund Manager position, is there?”

  “No,” she answered to both of his questions.

  “Seems like the manager position should be yours. If you want it.”

  It wasn’t easy to resist accepting Jon’s compliment at face value. She wanted to, wanted to know he respected her as a professional equal. But there was that one niggling doubt in her that said he could be setting her up for a fall.