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CHRISSY SETTLED INTO her train seat and pulled out her work tablet just as her phone started vibrating. She clicked the on button to her earbuds without looking at the phone.
“Christina!” her father said. “How’s my girl doing?”
“Dad,” she huffed with exasperation. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the day?”
“I need to tell you to leave this Saturday open.”
“Why? What’s happening?”
“There’s a dance that your grandfather and I want you to attend.”
Chrissy glanced at the spreadsheet she assembled for contacts and became distracted on a detail, so she wasn't paying attention to his words. “That’s nice,” she replied.
“Then I can count on you, right?”
“On what?” She snapped back to the conversation. What had she just agreed to?
“The dance. It’s a party. At the Red Bull. You’ll meet the Roccos’ man there.”
Chrissy drew up straight and her eyes narrowed. How dare he push this on her? But she also remembered her promise to her sister to act cool and play for time. She had to make it look good, to give Marcus the hint he needed to propose to Gloria. And a dance? What the heck? What was this? High school? “Sure, Papa. I’ll be there. When?”
“It starts at eight and goes to closing.”
“And why are we doing this at the Roccos’ bar?”
“Because Vittorio Rocco thought it’d be good for you two to meet in an informal place, and I agree.”
Chrissy sighed. “Fine, Papa. And how am I supposed to recognize this guy?”
“The bartender, either Sheldon or John, will introduce you. You want me to be there?”
Hell no! She panicked at that idea. The last thing she needed was her father's eyes on her every move. Or any of her bloody family. “I’ll be okay.”
“That’s a given. I told Gloria and Marcus to go with you.”
Fabulous! she thought acidly. They left no room for her to back out. Gloria, the snitch, would tell them everything.
“Be there,” he growled. “Too much is riding on this for you to display your independent streak.”
Streak. That’s how her father thought of it. Not that she had thoughts and opinions of her own. At another time, she’d give him a piece of her mind. But this was for Gloria. So, she’d show up and play this thing out. “Okay, Papa, whatever you say.”
He grunted and clicked off the call, and her phone buzzed with a text.
Oh shit. Saks.
Saks: I keep thinking about last night.
Her lips pursed tightly. Chrissy didn’t have time to answer any of Saks’ texts. She had more important things to do, like attacking the strategy for her job hunt. She had no idea how soon she might lose her position. But when the ax came, Chrissy wanted to look the bastard in the eye. She had her speech crafted. “Oh, what a relief, because I didn’t know how tell you about the fabulous employment offer I’ve accepted.”
Despite the butterflies in her stomach she strolled into the building, all business, dressed in a handmade gray raw silk suit expertly tailored by her mother. This she paired with Christian Louboutin pumps with the signature red soles as she marched into reception. Chrissy restrained the urge to look toward Richard Hamilton’s office. She had a story ready if the snake should ask why she came in.
“Hello, Chloe,” she said coolly as she unlocked her door. Chloe perched at her desk in front of Richard’s corner office. No doubt Chloe got an eyeful of Chrissy’s dressy outfit, which would fuel the gossip mill.
Good.
Jessica entered behind her. “Wow,” she said. “When you launch into attack mode, you go all out.”
“Did you pull together those materials?”
“Yes. The portfolio’s on your desk; the lists you asked for are in your email.”
“Excellent.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“Do? Nothing,” Chrissy said slyly. “We’ll place that order for trade buys. Please pull that list and check what we’ve spent this month.”
“Sure,” said Jessica.
“And fill out the purchase order. I'll personally bring it to Richard to sign it.”
“Oooh,” mouthed Jessica. Most times Jessica left the purchase order with Chloe, but this situation called for a frontal assault. “Right away, boss.”
“Quickly.” She turned on her computer and read through her emails. Richard sent one, arranging a meeting on Friday. She sighed. The Friday dump. Time grew short, and she had a ton of work to do to find a new job.
She sent a text to one especially persistent headhunter, Charles Grayson, who had lured her on a date before he unloaded his proposal. She grew annoyed with him, because Charles was both handsome and available, and that his only interest was to sell her business talents ticked her off. But Chrissy extended a lunch invitation to him.
To her surprise, he replied right away.
Charles: You have the best timing. My two o’clock cancelled for today. Let’s meet at Florio’s.
It was one o'clock now and she knew the place, just two blocks from her office. She had enough time to accomplish her objective and leave for lunch with a flourish.
Chrissy: Perfect. See you.
Now she had a bona fide reason to be in the city. Hamilton, that snake, didn’t have to know she set the meeting at the last minute. That she and Charles had a quasi-dating relationship was a perfect way to confuse and confound the enemy. And a late lunch at a nice restaurant and a couple glasses of wine would go a long way to soothe her frazzled nerves.
Her phone buzzed again and for a second she had a moment of dread that Charles cancelled, but it wasn't him. Damn. Saks. Again.
Saks: Hey, sexy. Did you select our rendezvous?
Well, she had to answer him now. This was the third text. She was rude if she didn't.
Chrissy: Sorry. Got caught up at work and can’t get away. Can I take a rain check?
Saks: You’re breaking my heart.
Chrissy: It sucks. Lol. But such is the life of a working woman.
Damn. She hoped she didn’t hurt his feelings. All this fell on her. Well, her and her crazy family. Better to break things off now. Best before her father got wind she’d spent a wild and reckless night with a man that he'd never allow at the Sunday dinner table.
Saks: Okay. But you aren’t off the hook. I’ll track you down.
Chrissy looked at the answer she reeled off, and realized that it sounded distinctly as if she asked him to find her. Her finger poised above the keypad to delete the message, but Jessica opened the door suddenly, startling her. Inadvertently her finger bumped the ‘send’ button.
Chrissy: Then let the hunt begin.
She gasped at her idiocy.
“Something wrong?” asked Jessica.
“No,” Chrissy said quickly. She didn’t need to worry. There was no way Saks could find her. She hadn’t even given him her last name. And if he did, by chance, locate her, she’d tell him firmly that there could be nothing else between them. She’d just text him later, on her way home, explaining that she’d been joking with him.
“Here’s the purchase order.”
“Great.”
“And his last interview went in about an hour ago, so they must be ready to break soon.”
“Fabulous,” Chrissy replied. She took the folder that Jessica handed her and composed her face into her best neutral expression. Hamilton didn’t have to know that butterflies filled her stomach.
When she met Charles for lunch, a glass of wine would help ease the fluttering wings.
With a deliberately casual stroll, she walked to Chloe’s desk. “Can I see Richard? I have something for him to sign.”
Chloe’s too-long eyelashes fluttered in surprise. “Didn't you have the day off?”
“I did, but I had a lunch date I can’t blow off. Since I had an hour to kill, I thought I’d get this print order placed.”
“He’s in a meeting. I can—”
But the door opened suddenly, and there stood Richard and a young man, obviously freshly graduated from college, laughing and shaking hands. It became clear now. Richard wanted to replace her with someone fresh out of college, who couldn’t command the salary she did.
And when Richard turned and saw her, his face fell immediately. Good. It was too much to hope for that he’d choke right there on the spot, but at least she gave him a moment of discomfort for his treachery. “Chrissy, I didn’t expect to see you today.”
“A quick minute, please?” she said lightly. Her breezy tone was a lie. Her heart was hammering in her chest. “I have something for you to sign. Then I'm off to a lunch date. I forgot all about it, but can’t brush it off.”
Richard’s eyes widened as his eyes traveled the length of her body, checking out the suit and the shoes. It was obviously too formal a suit to merit a casual lunch. “Sure, Chrissy. Give me a second.” He turned to the young man at the door. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hamilton.”
Yeah. Mr. Hamilton. Way to suck up, college boy. Chrissy realized her thoughts were unkind, but she didn’t put up with people trying to take her place.
“Come in, Chrissy,” Richard said. “I have something to ask you.”
Chrissy followed Richard into his office, slightly confused. What could he have to ask her now that he was going to fire her?
He sat at his desk and took the folder she handed him. Richard looked over the paperwork and nodded. “Just what I wanted. Good.” He drew his pen from his jacket pocket and signed the order.
“You didn’t need to come in to do this,” he said as he passed the purchase order to her.
“I was in the city, and I hate to leave things undone.”
“I appreciate your dedication to the job.”
Now she was even more confused. Why was he praising her when he was getting ready to fire her?
“I wanted to talk to you on Friday, but our plans have changed and I have to move up the timetable.” He motioned for her to sit, and her stomach dropped and the room spun a bit. This was it. She was about to lose her job. This moment came too fast. Suddenly she was glad she had lunch scheduled with Charles.
Richard looked over her very professional attire and frowned. “I hope we haven’t failed to show you our appreciation for the work you’ve done. I know I don’t always agree with you, but your work is effective. Drummond and I have discussed ways to expand your role in the company.”
Chrissy swallowed hard. Drummond Walker was the president of the company and the man who had hired her.
“In what way, Richard?” she asked. She damned herself for the slight quaver of her voice.
“That’s what we want to discuss with you at Drummond’s house in Fairfield on Saturday. Come by say, at two, and bring your swimsuit if you like to swim. He has this sauna in which he insists discussing business.”
“I’ll be there,” she said. Her head was spinning. Drummond wanted to talk directly with her about work? This wasn’t bad. This was incredibly good.
Not until she sat in a cab on her way to Florio’s did it hit her what else she had to do on that day. She groaned. How could she possibly hike it to Fairfield and take this meeting, which was sure to last several hours, steam bath included, then race back home in time to get ready for the disaster waiting for her at the Red Bull?
She had another horrible thought. What if Saks showed up at the party? What was she to say? “Hi, Saks. Meet the guy my family wants me to marry”?
She was so fucked.
