Conflicts of the Heart (12 page)

“Great. I think we're making some headway.”

Teal seemed to avoid her gaze. She appeared guilty. What had she been up to?

“I sure could have used some of your company these past few weeks.”

“Now I'm back to normal, maybe we can get together and do lunch or din din.” Teal winked.

“Sounds good.
I'll call you.”

The waitress brought Teal's drink. She must have placed her order when she spotted them.

“Better yet, let’s have lunch tomorrow at the hospital. Negotiations won't start until after noon.” If Teal still wanted to try for an election, Dana needed to set some boundaries.

“Oh, damn, I have to go to Los Angeles for a meeting. I'll call you when I get back.
Rain check?”

Ken smiled. “I take it you two are old friends.”

“High school,” Dana winked at Teal.

Patrick appeared in front of their table from nowhere. Dana's mouth dropped. He had his hair styled very much as he had the day of the picnic and he dressed casual in a tight shirt, jeans, and Birkenstocks. When his gaze met hers, her heart turned over.

“Join us?” Dana asked.

“No thanks. I came searching for Teal.”

Teal's head jerked up in surprise. “That's a switch. What's up?”

“I have a lead I thought you might want to follow up on.
A small company with a few disgruntled employees anxious to sign a petition. I don’t have the time to take on another contract, so I thought you might want to take it.”

She slipped out of her seat. “Let's talk.” She grabbed her drink and sidled up to Patrick. “See you two later. Ken, you be nice to Dana.”

He laughed. “Nice begets nice.” Ken laid a hand on Dana's arm. Patrick winced, nodded his farewell, and led Teal away. They went head-to-head for a few moments before leaving the club together. If Dana had read him right, she saw a glint of jealousy on his face.

“I'm glad they left,” Ken said in a low, husky voice. “It's you I want to get to know.”

She smiled. To have a few drinks or an occasional date with a man as nice as Ken wasn't out of the question. She didn't work with him, so the warm thoughts of Patrick must be put to rest. Here she sat in a nice, comfortable place, having a drink with a man who had possibilities and she thought of someone else. She must look for Ken's finer points, like the touches of humor around his mouth and at the corner of his eyes. “I'm glad you asked me. This place is lovely. Now I can put a face to the place.”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems everyone meets here whenever they're at loose ends. Now I can picture the scene.” Sitting around, getting to know a man and enjoying herself gave her a new lift.

“You shouldn't be a stranger. A good group hangs out here.”

For a brief moment, she wanted to call Ruta Morse and have her keep Michael late. The thought of getting up soon and leaving gave her pause. If Ken turned out to be the kind of man she hoped he was, she had plenty of time to get to know him. “I can't stay too long. I have to pick up my son.”

“You have a son? How old is he?”

“Five. You have kids?”

He raised three fingers. “Do they live with you?”

“No, sadly. Their mother remarried and moved to Oregon. She took them with her. I see them on holidays and a couple of weeks during the summer. Your glass is empty. Want another?”

“Not right now. Thanks.”

Ken chugalugged the rest of his beer, and then raised his hand, snapping his fingers to get the waitress' attention. He held up one finger, pointed to himself, and returned his attention to Dana. “So, your son lives with you all the time?”

“Yes.”

“Must be tough, career and all.”

“Not at all.
I like my life this way.” She twisted her glass around. “How long have you known Patrick?”

“Since the day he came to Ashton. He's like a brother. We own a couple of nags together. He's a great guy.”

“So this riding thing is serious, huh?”

“We long-distance race a couple of times a month and we try to ride most mornings before work. Good exercise.”

“Well, you both look fit. It must agree with you.”

Ken's second drink arrived. He laid a twenty on the plastic tray with the tab.
“You should join us some morning. They have other horses at the stable. Bring your son. In fact, why don't you come with me Saturday morning?”

“Sometime maybe.
Thanks for the offer.” She glanced up at the clock over the bar.

“I knew it. You have to go.”

“It’s my son. Thanks for the drink.”

“Believe me, my pleasure.” He rose with her. “Thanks for joining me. May I call you?”

She nodded over her shoulder as she left.

On the way out to her car, she felt a terrible emptiness. Patrick had gotten to her. The more she saw him, the more she wanted to be with him. She met Ken, a nice eligible man, and she
blew it. He even wanted to take her and Michael riding. He had his own business. Could she spend the rest of her life alone? Would having an occasional affair be something she could handle? Each day she seemed more confused.

Deep down, she understood the way Patrick responded to Michael drew her closer to him.

Wrong place, wrong time!

* * *

Teal DeLuca disembarked the flying tricycle that Air West had the audacity to call an airplane, at Los Angeles International Airport. Outside, she hailed a cab for the hour-and-a-half crawl across the metropolis. Just being here amidst the din and confusion reinforced her love for Ashton, the town she vowed she'd never leave.

If she were home right now, she and Dana would be lunching. At least now, she had an excuse not to be there. She couldn’t face the woman after being with Joel for three weeks, in his bed, cooking his meals, playing house, and plotting against Dana.

She didn't love Joel as she thought she would when Dana had him. Life was truly a bitch, and she had promised Joel more information to fuel his case. A small part of her felt rotten.

An hour-and-a-half later, and thirty dollars poorer, she sat in the front office of Local 281 waiting to see her boss, Sam "the Letch" Jenkins. He had given her a one-day notice to come to L.A. for a briefing. Normally, he gave her a week.

The sparse offices of Local 281 gave the appearance the union had fallen on hard times, but they had always been tight-fisted with the buck. Posh offices were not their thing. They were a no frills organization--good times and bad. Rumor had it they had lost three major elections in recent months. Her trip to L.A. meant one of his famous pep talks. She had organized the small Allen Spice Company, with less than two hundred employees, in the last year--hardly enough in dues to pay her salary, let alone add bucks to the coffers of 281.

The "Letch" leered out from behind his office door.
"Comein.”

His portly frame, bald dome, and Hitler mustache gave Teal the creeps. Every time she attended a meeting with him, she had to drink with him afterwards and then fight him off until her flight left...
Thank God, she only met with him every three or four months.

"Have a seat.” He headed around his scratched desk and pulled out a cigarillo from a drawer.

Teal took the seat in front of him, making sure her knees were covered. To discourage any of his usual advances, she had chosen a sedate, basic-black dress with a high neck and below-the-knee hemline--her funeral dress. She tied her hair back in a bun, and wore little makeup to keep Jenkins’ mind on business.

"So why the sudden decision for a meeting?"
Her tone was crisp and clear.

With a flick of his
Bic, he lit his cigarillo, took a deep drag, and with one billowing puff he filled the air around her with smoke and the horrible smell of cigar. As if the smog in this town wasn't bad enough. She coughed.

He strolled back around and sat on the edge of his desk with his knee almost touching hers. She crossed her legs and shifted her weight to put space between them.

"You've been working Ashton alone for two years and we represent only one additional company. Doesn't foot the bill. What've you got in the hopper?"

"I'm working on Templeton. If I get it, there's a possibility of four hundred new members. I have two other drives going on right now. Not as big as Templeton but better than the spice company."

"How do they look?"

Teal's stomach churned. "Good," she lied. Jenkins acted somber and quizzical, not his usual jovial, lecherous self. He had not even looked at her cross-eyed since she arrived. Something negative hung in the air she did not like.

"In the past, you've been a helluva organizer, Teal. But lately you haven't been pulling your weight."

Teal bolted up from her chair. "Ashton is not what you'd call a union town, Sam. I've been
breakin' my ass for you and getting nowhere."

"I thought you had an old friend at Templeton."

"I do. She knows I want in, but she's not having it.” Teal stood and gave him a hip-cocked pose. "It's been seven years or more since Dana and I've seen each other. A lot of water has passed under the bridge. And Patrick's got a strong hold there."

Jenkins stubbed his cigarillo in the large clear glass ashtray behind him, and stood to his feet.

"You've got three months to get Templeton. If you don't, you're out."

She gasped, realizing a shiver of panic running through her.
"Out? Just like that?"

"You know if you don't earn your keep around here you're kaput. Consider yourself on notice.” He strolled back to his seat behind the desk.

"I've worked two-eight-one for six years. I've pulled my weight. I can't help it if some of these small companies break away when the employees get what they want without us. You're treating me like I'm only as good as my last picture show."

That's the name of the game. Get me Templeton by November…or start looking.”

While he shuffled papers, her mind raced. She'd lose everything, her beautiful condo, her Corvette. She might have to consider leaving Ashton…move in with Joel. Heaven forbid. What a crappy predicament.

He glanced up from the papers he'd been shuffling into a neat stack. "These aren't the good old days anymore, my darling girl.
Unions are having a hard time all over. I've got people here with more seniority than you. If you don't make your salary, I can't keep you."

Teal refused to shed the tears that welled up in her eyes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She would get into Templeton, even if it was the last thing she would do. She’d be damned if she lost everything she had worked for because that woman wouldn’t help her.

"I'll get Templeton, the other two, and I'll get two-eighty-one into the County. She marched over to Jenkins and punched his chest with her finger. “Then I want a raise and a little more respect."

"That's the way I like to hear you talk. Now get back to Ashton and show me what you're made of."

Teal headed for the door. "Can I use the beach house for a little schmoozing?"

"Sure." Jenkins reached into the top drawer of his desk and threw her the keys. "Call
Lilah and give her the dates."

"How about someone taking me to the airport?
It cost me thirty bucks to get here in a cab."

He pushed down the intercom. “
Lilah, give Teal thirty dollars from petty cash and tell Jerry to take her to the airport.” He glanced up. "Don't let me down."

Under her breath on the way out the door, she muttered, "Screw you, Letch. I'm
doin' this for me.”

Nine

Patrick shoved his notes into his briefcase, pressed the intercom, and waited for the secretary to answer. The wall clock in his office, hanging slightly askew on the walnut veneer paneling, clicked at second intervals. He buzzed again. The office secretary took her time answering, which could make him late for negotiations.

Angie Munson poked her delicate, oval face around the door. “Sorry, Patrick. Ed was dictating when you buzzed. What do you need?”

“The Templeton file.”

“Right away.”

Somewhere in that file were notes about verbal agreements covering the contract's
expiration. An expired contract made him edgy. That window period meant open season for an election with any other union who wanted in. Teal DeLuca had election cards in hand, with a mouthful of false promises.

Dana's negotiating tactics were so good she became a real threat to the job he wanted in New York. If she stood in the way of his getting a contract, his only out would be to call for a strike. He had to uncover her strategy in order to get what he wanted before this round of negotiations ended.

Angie returned with
the file. “Ken Burrack is out front.”