HE HAD ARRIVED—or at least that’s what it felt like.
Josiah stood in the center of his office and looked around as though he hadn’t been working out of it for more than a week. The newly installed white window shades, the fresh coat of paint on the walls, and the reflective hardwood floors made the room look, feel, and smell brand-new, like it had been designed just for him. Like the whole five-story structure known as MacGyver Technologies had been built just for him. Josiah inhaled a lung full of the smell of success. He could get used to this.
Mickey thought he had surprised the company’s newest senior analyst when he announced at the promotions dinner that the office would be customized to Josiah’s personal liking. Josiah allowed his eyes to stretch when the proclamation was made; he’d promised Lillian that he would. The queen of gossip had leaked the news to him as they walked to their cars together after work on Friday.
“He’s gonna give you the liberty to choose between having your solid wood desk finished in cherry or mahogany.” They were standing by the driver-side door of her car when she told him. Lillian’s eyes darted back and forth, making sure no one could finger her as the spoiler. “And the enamel file cabinets that you get came in fancy colors like smoky topaz, harmonic tan, garden sage, and olive grove.” For good measure, Lillian had put up a finger for each color she named. She was all too happy to spill the beans. Like ruining the surprise had made her day. Maybe even her entire week.
Mickey was visibly taken aback when Josiah asked to have all of his furniture ordered in basic black. He’d asked that the walls be painted steel grey, and the black gear matched it with perfection. Black was his favorite color. Always had been. And it looked stunning in his new office. He’d always despised the orangey walls, varnished wooden desk, and clay colored file cabinets in his old office. The ensemble reminded him of the furniture in his childhood bedroom. Much nicer, much sturdier, but mix matched just the same.
Something about plain old black and white never looked plain at all. Coordinated just right, the basic colors looked artistic and innovative, stylish. The large black-and-white abstract framed painting that hung on the wall behind his desk helped to make the office a showplace to be proud of.
A few boxes, consisting mostly of software handbooks and a few files sat in the corner, still unpacked. They were a temporary eyesore that would be gone in the next day or so. Josiah had been taking his time putting things away. Mickey offered to send one of the gofers to help him get everything set up, but Josiah declined. When it came to his workspace, he had a system, and if things weren’t put exactly where they belonged, it would mess up everything.
Spinning around, Josiah faced Mickey. It irked him that his boss never sought permission before entering his office. The door was closed. Wasn’t knocking before entering a common courtesy? It was no real shocker though. Bad manners seemed to fit Mickey’s slipshod personality well. If he weren’t a nice man, he’d be unbearable.
As though giving Josiah a prime example to prove his thoughts, Mickey sneezed in his hand, then pulled his overused hanky from his blazer pocket and blew his Rudolph-red nose into it before wadding it back up and shoving it back into place. He used long steps to close the space between him and Josiah, and Josiah found himself praying to God that the man didn’t touch him.
“Looking good in here.” Mickey sounded more congested than normal as he turned a full circle to get a panoramic view of the office. He sniffed and cleared his throat. “I have to admit that I was a little bit worried about these plain colors, but you made it come together. I think it’s the black and white accessories … the pencil holder, trash can, in-box, coatrack, and throw rug… that’s making it look like some kind of atypical Oval Office.”
Josiah smiled at the analogy. He’d never thought of it that way.
“I never envisioned it looking like this,” Mickey concluded. “Looks kinda—you know—elegant. Black desk and all.”
Josiah’s grin evaporated, and his insides cringed when Mickey put the same hand he’d sneezed into on the surface of his desk and patted it three times in approval.
“Looks good, Josiah. Looks real good,” Mickey concluded.
“Thanks, Mr. Colt,” Josiah managed to say through half-clinched teeth. “Did you want anything in particular?” He needed to get him out of his office.
Mickey snapped his fingers like Josiah had just reminded him of the purpose of his intrusion. “Oh yes. I need you to stop by my office at some point today, preferably before three. I need your help with something, a computer thing.” The fast-talker in him had reemerged. “I’ve been trying to figure it out all morning and haven’t had any luck. I’m stumped. Have to complete a report by close of business on Thursday. Haven’t even started on it. No surprise there, right?” His laugh turned into an uncovered openmouthed hacking cough that prompted Josiah to take two steps backward. Mickey kept talking like nothing had happened. “I’ll probably need to download that new software. Not here at the office. It’s on the system here. But you already know that. What I need is to get it on my laptop. Gotta have a way to work on it at home. The wife’s not gonna like me bringing work home. Unfortunately, it can’t be helped though, unless you want to do it for me. I can give you all the info and you can log it—”
“I’ll meet you in your office at two thirty,” Josiah jumped in. He wasn’t about to do Mickey’s work for him. Those days were over. Mickey would have to either learn the ropes of the job that afforded him the convertible Bentley that he drove, or dupe somebody else into doing his dirty work from now on.
Josiah was no fool. He fully realized that he had been used by Mickey over the years, but he also knew that it wasn’t a one-sided deal. He had used Mickey just as well. Josiah had done work that was beneath him, but there had been a method to his madness. It was all with the long-term goal of climbing the executive ladder. In corporate America, kissing up to authority called for just as much dexterity and skillfulness as the job’s official duties. Josiah has mastered it. For years he had been at Mr. MacGyver’s beck and call, and when the mantle changed hands, he’d availed himself to be the same for Mickey. But no more. He’d reached senior level now. It was time to set some boundaries.
“I’ll be there by two thirty,” Josiah reiterated, “but I can only stay for half an hour.”
Mickey’s eyebrows tightened. “You have somewhere to be?”
“Yes.” Josiah walked around his desk and pointed at a small stack of papers that sat near his computer. “I have a workshop to facilitate at Moniker Insurance Brokers, remember? That’s Friday. Today’s Tuesday. I have to get all of the information together that I want included in the handouts. Not to mention that I have to go over the Operations Handbook to be sure all of the necessary intricate details are incorporated.”
“Oh.” Mickey looked like a lost kitten. “Well… I may need a little more than thirty minutes of your time, but I’ll do my best not to keep you too long.”
Josiah almost laughed. Mickey apparently hadn’t gotten the memo. How long he assisted him wasn’t Mickey’s call to make. But Josiah wasn’t going to get into any word wars. At the end of the day—allergies, red nose, bad manners, and all—Mickey was still the boss. However, Josiah had no intentions of staying one minute longer than the thirty minutes he’d verbally granted, and that was something he could show Mickey better than he could tell him.
“I’ll meet you at two thirty,” Josiah said before sinking into the leather of his swivel desk chair and picking up a few sheets of paper from the pile. He hoped the gesture would let Mickey know that the conversation was over.
It did, and as soon as his boss closed the door behind his exit, Josiah pulled a container of pop-up-style Lysol disinfectant wipes from his bottom drawer and used a sheet to wipe down the surface of his desk. A second one sanitized the doorknobs on both sides of the door.
He was just finishing up the cleaning of the outside knob when he heard his name called. Josiah spun around in time to see two equally beautiful women approaching him. A part of him wished he’d been on the inside of his office and out of their view, and another part of him felt fortunate to have chosen this moment to disinfect his doorknob.
Nadhima was laughing when she said, “Trying to keep your new toys clean, are you?”
Josiah felt flustered. He didn’t know if it were due to Nadhima’s poking fun at him, or the heat from the adoring eyes of her daughter that burned into his flesh.
“I… uh, no. Well, um, yes, I guess you could say that,” Josiah stammered. “Just trying to … well, you know.” He didn’t even know how to complete the sentence.
Nadhima laughed again. “Oh, you don’t need to explain, Josiah. I remember when I first made senior, I was the same way. Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” he admitted.
“Well, I would introduce you to my daughter, but I know that the two of you have already met.”
Nadhima had just heightened Josiah’s discomfort. Wishful thinking had convinced him that Ana hadn’t told her mother how he’d exchanged juvenile flirty smiles with her, and then pulled the bottom out when she made the effort to take it to an adult level.
Josiah cleared his throat, smiled, and ducked his head toward Ana. Today, her hair was covered in a beautiful gold and brown kente style wrap that added height to her already tall statue. “Yes, we have. Good to see you again, Ana.”
“Same here,” she replied. “I told Mama that I had the pleasure of meeting and chatting with the great Josiah Tucker last week.”
Josiah blushed behind her insistence that he was some kind of legend in the business.
“And I told her that she should have done more than just chat with you,” Nadhima quipped. “Two attractive, successful, single people like you should take advantage of the opportunity to get to know each other better. You never know where it might lead.”
“Mama!” Ana’s whisper was saturated with reprimand.
“Well, you’re not getting any younger, my dear,” Nadhima reminded her. “And you’re a good catch. Any man would want to have you by his side. Don’t you agree, Josiah?”
Josiah couldn’t believe Nadhima’s audacity. Didn’t she see that she was embarrassing her daughter? And now she was sticking him in the middle. What was he supposed to say? If he agreed, Ana might take it as a change of heart on his part and a second chance for her. If he disagreed, it would be tacky and quite frankly, dishonest. Ana probably would make a good wife for somebody … just not him.
“Yes.” Josiah took a chance on the truth. “I totally agree. Ana is quite smart and beautiful. I suppose she took after her mother.”
It was Nadhima’s turn to blush, though her dark skin hid it well. Josiah had definitely gotten the reaction he was fishing for, but his words weren’t empty flattery. Nadhima had to be in her fifties, but she could compete with women ten, even twenty years her junior. The apple hadn’t fallen too far from the tree. Nadhima could give her own daughter a run for her money.
“Thank you,” both women said in unison.
“But as I told Mama,” Ana continued, touching her mother’s arm as she spoke. “I have too many things on my plate right now to even consider a serious relationship. There’s school, and then there’s my ensuing career,” she enumerated. “Plus I’m only here temporarily. I’ll be going back to Philly once the fall quarter begins, and I don’t think I’m one for long-distance relationships.”
Josiah couldn’t help but be impressed by her brilliance. Ana had somehow made it look like she was the one controlling the outcome of the nonrelationship. He couldn’t be angry with her though. She’d been diplomatic enough to do it without making him look as though he’d been kicked to the curb.
“Well, I told her that distance is nothing but geography,” Nadhima said, clearly not ready to give up on the idea of putting the two of them together. “I think any relationship can work if both parties—”
“Your daughter is no fool, Nadhima,” Josiah cut in. “Ana is smart and beautiful. I can respect a woman who knows what she wants and sticks to her guns about it. When she’s ready, she won’t have any problems catching a man’s attention.”
“Humph.” Nadhima retorted like she had her doubts, but Ana’s grin was priceless.
“Thank you, Josiah.”
“You’re welcome, Ana. Enjoy the rest of your time here in North Cacalaci.” Josiah was sure that she was familiar with North Carolina’s slang name. He waved at both of them and walked back inside his office, smiling behind the closed door. It was a pity, really Ana was almost perfect. His loss would be somebody’s gain, but he had no regrets. Some things just weren’t negotiable.
Josiah tossed the used Lysol wipe in the garbage can, made his way back to his desk chair, and sat. Despite what he’d led Mickey to believe, the paperwork for Moniker Insurance Brokers was almost complete. He only needed to get the pages in order and hand them over to Lillian so she could make copies and put them in individual binders.
As he reached for the master copies, the framed photo that stood beside his pencil holder caught his eye. It always did. Reeva Mae Tucker used to be such a beauty. High cheekbones, smooth skin, shoulder-length hair, dimpled smile, bright hazel eyes. It was easy to see why his father was drawn to her. But the photo was the only proof that Josiah had that his mother had ever been so attractive. He’d never known the woman who smiled at him through the frame. At the time of her death, she looked like a shell of her former self.
Josiah picked up the photo and held it in his hand. He’d cried for her. On the day he received the news, during the memorial service that was held in the funeral home’s chapel, and many days since. The void of a loss was there, no doubt about it. But it didn’t feel like he’d lost a mother; it felt more like he’d lost himself. She was the only visual proof that he even existed.
Bishop Lumpkin said that it was understandable that he didn’t have that heart connection that a son should have for his mother. But if it were so understandable, why was he having the reoccurring nightmares? In years past, he’d have the dreams sporadically. Once … maybe two times per year. But since the talk with the bishop nine days ago, Josiah had experienced the dream three times. There were different versions of the nightmare, but they all woke him up in the same cold sweat.
“Josiah?” The faint call was accompanied by several knocks.
Having placed the photo back in its place, Josiah answered, “Come on in, Lillian.”
“I know I’m a little early,” she said, pushing her glasses up on her nose, “but I had to come to this floor to bring a package to one of the other SAs and thought I’d see if you had the paperwork ready for me while I was in the neighborhood.”
Josiah waved her in. “I have it. I was just getting ready to collate it for you, but you can take them now if you don’t mind putting them in order. The pages are numbered.”
“I don’t mind.” She reached for the stack that he held. “I’ve got a little time on my hands.”
“You’re the best.” Josiah was glad to relinquish the duty.
She grinned her appreciation and then took a moment to look around the office. “Man … your office may not be as big as Mr. Colt’s, but it sure is nicer. And he had his set up by professionals.”
“Thanks,” Josiah replied. “I’m not all the way done yet, but it’s getting there.”
“Speaking of Mr. Colt,” she said, turning her face back to Josiah and lowering her voice the way she always did when she was about to pass along hearsay. “His little trophy wife called the front desk about twenty minutes ago, and she was hot; do you hear me?”
Josiah wanted to tell her to keep her gossip to herself, but he was too intrigued. “Hot?”
“Yes, hot… on fire … mad,” she clarified. “She had been trying to call him direct, and he was on his other line and letting her go to voice mail. Well, she wasn’t even about to be treated like she wasn’t the most important thing on the agenda.”
“What did she do?”
Apparently glad Josiah had asked, Lillian took off her glasses and leaned in closer. “Honey, she told me to interrupt his phone call and tell him that his wife was on the line and she wanted to speak with him now.”
Josiah rubbed his hand over his five o’clock shadow. It was the result of his failure to shave this morning. “Did you interrupt him?” He felt like an old gossip himself, but he wanted to know.
“I sure did. She didn’t give me a choice. I thought something was really wrong, but how ’bout there was no emergency?”
“How do you know that?” Josiah raised an eyebrow. Surely Lillian hadn’t…
“I listened in.”
She had.
“What?” Josiah’s whisper was harsh. “Do you know how much trouble you can get into for that, Lillian?” His frown deepened. “Should I ask whether or not you listen in on my calls too?”
Lillian flipped her wrist. “For what? You don’t get any interesting calls. All your calls come from clients, and they’re all business. None of your calls are worth listening in on.”
Josiah shook his head. “Just go run the copies and make up the binders for me. I need twenty of them.”
“Sure. Be back in a few.” Lillian turned to leave, but stopped short of reaching the door. “I hope you’ll be successful in giving Mr. Colt that crash course on the new software.”
Placing his pen on the desk, Josiah narrowed his eyes at her. “Why? And how do you know about that?”
She grinned as if he’d made her day by asking. “Didn’t I tell you Mrs. Colt was on fire? She wanted him to take her somewhere this evening, and he told her that he had to work on some project from home and you were teaching him how to work the program. She met him halfway, I guess you can say,” Lillian said, putting her glasses back on her face. “But she told him that he’d better know what he was doing by the time he got home because he wouldn’t have Thursday to work on it. She only gave him tonight to get it all done because she was only postponing her plans for one day.” Lillian paused to shake her head. “Easy to see who’s the boss in that mansion. Daphne Colt not only wears the makeup, but she wears the pants too.”
“Well, if you can avoid eavesdropping for an hour or so, you can get those binders put together, I’m sure,” Josiah said, shooing her away with his hand.
“Not a problem,” she sang just before opening the door.
“When you’re done, just hold them at the front desk,” Josiah instructed. “I’ll probably step out awhile, so I’ll pick them up when I return to my office.”
“Will do.”
Josiah watched Lillian close the door behind her as she left, and then began preparing to leave. He supposed that this would be just one more day that he would use and be used by Mickey Colt. He would go ahead and head to the boss’s office now and give him a couple of extra hours of his time to help him learn the software. Maybe he could save Mickey’s marriage, or at least, save him from getting an earful later. On the flip side, going to Mickey’s office and immersing himself in walking him through the user guide would also give Josiah the chance to think about other things than his disconnected life.