Do Not Disturb (2 page)

When was the last time a man had affected her this
way? A few had drifted through her life since college, but it was rare to find
one not intimidated by her for some reason. Her height. Her brains. Even her
position at the bank caused some to retreat. And if all that didn't send them
running, a ten-year-old daughter finished them off.

“That should take care of the current assets,
Allison.” Walter closed the folder on his desk and reached for his coffee.
“How’s your thesis going? Almost done?”

“Almost.” She wrote one last note on her pad
before looking up, a mental image of the undone thesis research filing through
her mind. “I keep thinking I’ll have the time to get the last bit done and then
something comes up. But I’m determined to finish it before the holidays.”

Rocking in his leather chair, Walter focused on
her over his coffee. “That’s right on schedule isn’t it?”

“Well...” She hesitated. She could feel a lecture
coming. “I’m two semesters ahead of schedule.”

His gray brows furrowed behind wire rimmed glasses
as he placed his cup down and slowly came around the desk. Pulling the fabric
of his navy suit up his thigh, he sat on the edge near her and crossed his arms,
taking on his authority pose. “Allison, you need to stop driving yourself so
hard. You’re smart, successful and you have a long career ahead of you, with
lots of good opportunities, but...there are more important things than work,
you know.”

“I know and I promise to slow down after this.”
With her boss being in his late fifties, around the same age as her parents, it
sometimes felt like she was answering to them, defending her lifestyle.

Of course Kelly was more important, but this
mattered, too. She might not have accomplished it the way she’d dreamed when
she went away to college, but after five years of excruciating work, a Masters
in Business Administration was finally going to be hers.

“That’s why I want to finish it now. I’m taking
some time off with Kelly at Christmas.”

“Good.” He slipped off the desk and escorted her
to the door. “I’d already decided to lock you out of your office and make you
take a vacation.”

“You won’t have to go that far.” She backed out of
the door. He’d been her mentor since the day she joined the bank ten years
earlier, guiding her career, but also understanding about her personal
obligations with Kelly. She was lucky to be working here. For him. Lucky to
have her career already set. “I promise.”

“I bet you drove your parents crazy, didn’t you?
Always the over achiever.”

“Still do,” she said with a laugh.

Strolling into her office, she spotted the uneaten
lunch. Brett’s words resonated through her. What did he mean by wasting away?
Running her hands over her hips, she hit bones. Was she really skinny, not just
thin?

She plopped down in her chair and twirled around
to the sandwich. Munching the cold, dry turkey, she gazed out the window to the
blue waters of Tampa Bay. Two sailboats cruised by.

She missed the water, the beach.

But just a few more months and she could relax.
She’d eat something decent then. Maybe even do something fun for herself.

Tossing the empty food carton in the trash, she
washed down the last bite with cold coffee then turned to her computer to
tackle her next task.

"I’ve talked to everybody and they’re ready
to meet."

Allison shifted the phone to her left hand as
Brett continued his update on his success with the committee members.

"I appreciate you taking care of it all.”
Hunching her shoulder up to hold the phone to her ear, she packed her briefcase
with work. He must be on vacation if he got all that done in one day. She found
a stack of post-it notes and jammed them into a side pocket. And she bet he
wasn’t planning to work all weekend. “Why don't we all meet Monday afternoon at
my house around five-thirty."

He hesitated. "Five-thirty?"

"Is that a problem?" Surely he wasn’t on
vacation next week, too and plotting a day at the beach for Monday.

"Not if I can bring my daughter. I don't like
leaving her alone that late in the day. She's only eleven."

Allison sighed, her hand stopping on the clasp of
her briefcase. No beach, just the trials of the single parent. And he hadn’t
been in town long enough to stockpile sitters for emergencies. "Of
course,” she said. “Kelly’s ten. They can watch videos or something."

"Great. See you Monday.”

By the time she’d hung up the phone, her exhausted
body was aching. Noting the time on the desk clock, the familiar rush of guilt
streamed through her.  There was never enough time.

Allison had grown up with drastically different
ideas about how her life would turn out, mapping a meticulous path to her
goals. She smiled at her daughter’s picture on her desk. But even at her lowest
moments, she was grateful at this curve in her life. Amazing how that sensible,
loving child kept her grounded in reality.

She wedged her sore feet into the heels she’d
kicked off an hour earlier and reached for her briefcase. Cutting off the
lights, she locked the door to the office suite. Once again, the last one out
of the office. She dropped the keys in her purse and headed for the elevators.

This was how it had to be.

She pressed her throbbing back against the wall, a
futile attempt to massage her knotted muscles and stared at the numbers
announcing each floor as the car climbed toward her. There just wasn’t another
choice if she wanted to keep her life on track and meet her goals.

#

"Please, Mom. Can't Caroline stay for dinner?"

Allison rested her hip against the island in her
kitchen, her daughter pulling on her hand and begging. Allison had buzzed the
Halloween committee through the meeting, papers flying as she set up the
schedule to meet deadlines. But now she was beginning to wobble in her heels.  

"Sweetie, I'm sure Mr. Tyler wants to get
home and I’m just ordering a pizza, nothing special."

He stood a few feet away, his arm slung around
Caroline’s shoulder. This was awkward. Did he want to stay?

"They don't have plans." Kelly ran over
to Brett. "Do you, Mr. Tyler? You want to stay here and eat pizza, don't
you?"

“Yeah, Dad, this way you don’t have to cook
tonight.”

“But what about all those fresh vegetables?”

“Dad...” Caroline droned, moving closer to his
side. “We’re talking pizza here.”

“You can have vegetables any old time,” Kelly
added.

He waved a hand in Allison’s direction. “It's up
to your mother, Kelly. She’s probably tired after working all day and then
running the meeting." He looked at Allison. "I don't mind picking it
up if you want to kick back and rest a few minutes.” He grinned. “At least this
way I’ll know you actually do eat."

“Brett.” She shot him a warning glance then her
daughter’s expectant face caught her eye. He had her now.

“Mom?” Kelly pleaded.

"Okay,” Allison said, her shoulders slumping
just a notch. “I'll order it, you can go get it."

"Yippee." The girls jumped up and down.

"We'll go with you, Daddy.” Caroline raced to
the front door. “Come on Kelly."

"OK with you?" Brett asked, pointing to
the squealing girls.

"Sure. If you're brave enough to take them
on." Allison backed up to the phone and punched in a number on her speed
dial.

#

"We're back, Mom."

"Set it here." Allison motioned to the
bar separating the kitchen from the family room.

Brett spread two cardboard boxes on the glossy
gray surface next to the silverware, plates and napkins. How could a man look
so good in jeans and oxford shirt, she thought, watching him rip the tops off
the boxes.

He gave her a quick grin and she realized this
eating dinner together was not a good idea. She’d never be able jam pizza past
the lump in her throat that popped up every time he looked at her.

"Can we eat in front of the television, Mom?”
Kelly and Caroline stood close together. “Please?"

She whirled away from Brett. Thank goodness the
girls were around. If he was willing to flirt with her at the bank, she wasn’t
sure what he’d do if they were alone. Or even more worrisome, how she’d react.

“Only if you put your plates on the coffee table.
Wait." Allison removed two plastic trays from the cabinet. "Use
these, too."

“Be careful, Caroline,” Brett cautioned. “We don’t
want to mess up Allison’s house.” He nodded toward the family room, then looked
at Allison, “She’s not quite used to all the neatness. I’m afraid my
housekeeping is...” and shrugged.

"I’m not a clean freak,” Allison countered as
the girls moved away, ignoring her memory of zooming around at midnight
vacuuming and dusting.

She didn’t mean to be picky about the house but
it’d taken forever to paint and refurbish the oak furniture she’d salvaged from
yard sales. She’d hated every minute of rummaging through mostly junk in
people’s driveways, but it had been worth it. A couch her mother had recovered
in a pale green cotton, a coordinating chair and an eclectic mix of end tables
and lamps made her house comfortable.

“I’m jealous.” Brett rounded the counter. “I think
I just need to give up on cleaning and get a maid.”

A maid? He had to be joking. After the years
scraping together the down payment and the mortgage still straining her budget,
she wouldn’t see a maid until after Kelly was through college.

Brett piled food on his plate with his fingers,
ignoring the server she’d set out.

“I guess we can eat at the table." She winced
as cheese stretched from the box to his plate, but he caught it just before it
sagged to the counter. Maybe a maid for Brett might not be a bad investment.

"Unless you prefer the floor also?"

"Definitely not.” He grabbed a fistful of
napkins. ”I know their choice of videos and I can live without seeing them...
again." He pulled out a chair for Allison and waited for her to fill her
plate before he sat down.

Hmmm...tall, good-looking, slightly messy, and
polite, she thought walking toward him. Intriguing.

She placed her plate on the plaid cotton placemat,
set her glass on the cork coaster, then picked up her pizza. Biting in, she
looked over it at Brett. He was watching her.

"What? I’m eating." But she’d never get
through even one bite if he kept staring.

"You look different." He pointed to her
jeans and knit t-shirt. "Less the lady in charge. More the lady of
leisure."

She’d changed while they were gone, sick of her
confining heels, blouse, skirt, jacket and other trappings of the consummate
woman banker. Ten hours in them was enough torture for one day. 

“And...?” she asked, waving her pizza in the air.

Brett's mouth curved into a smile. "I like
it." His eyes raked over her body, stopping briefly at her chest before
moving back to her face, his brows raised. "Your suits are okay for your
corporate image, but this is definitely a more..." He leaned over the
table so only she could hear him. "More sexy look."

Her pizza fell to the plate. "I can't believe
you said that."

"Why?” He eased back and grinned. “It's true
and I meant it as a compliment." He snatched another slice of pizza,
wolfing it down in four quick bites.

"Nice color is a compliment. That..."
She lowered her voice to a whisper. "That was a...a...you know what that
was."

He moved close to her face again and whispered
back, "No. What was it?"

She munched through the rest of her pizza. He may
be polite, but he was also a flirt. Resting back in her chair, she kept her
eyes on his too gorgeous face and sipped her soda.

"I'm just telling you the truth."
Placing one arm on the table, he rested his chin in his upturned palm. “I'm
sure other men tell you the same thing."

As he watched her intently, she strained to
remember how long it’d been since a man had paid her a compliment. Or flirted
with her. It had either been way too long or she’d been too busy to notice
anyone that tried. She glanced into the family room and saw the girls engrossed
in their food and video, not paying any attention to the conversation at the
table.

"Of course.” She flipped her plaited hair
back over her shoulder before picking up her food again. “All my boyfriends
tell me that."

His eyes opened wide. "Do they now?" 
Lowering his long arms to the table, his hands landed near Allison. She noticed
a scrape across the knuckles. Something had rubbed his skin raw. What did he do
on his vacation? Evidently not lounge around the beach like she’d thought.

"So what did you and all your boyfriends do
this past weekend? Jet to Paris?"

She glanced back to his face, shaking her head.
"London. Paris is old news."

"Well I can't compete with that.” Splaying
his palms flat on the table with a slap, Brett let out a loud laugh. “I didn’t
know elves led such exciting lives.”

“But of course we do,” Allison smirked.

“So what’s up with the Halloween costumes anyway?”

She hesitated for a second, but had figured out he
was persistent enough to prod her until she talked. “Four older brothers.”

He nodded his head slightly, waiting for more.

“My parents made them take me out trick or
treating when I was five and they were soooo embarrassed. They dressed me up so
that no one would know who I was. A pumpkin the first year.”

“A pumpkin?”

“Head to toe. I couldn’t even sit down.” She
grinned at the memory. “But it backfired on them. Everyone thought I was
adorable.”

“So they left you home the next year?”

“Oh no, they also figured out they got more candy
by trotting me out and showing me off, so each year, the costumes got more
elaborate and it became a tradition. I took over the costumes for everyone by
the time I was nine.”

“And you’re still dressing up?”

“Crazy isn’t it?” She waved a hand through the
air. “But it’s the only creative talent I have. No music. No painting. Nothing.
And since I was...” How could she explain this without sounding like she was
feeling sorry for herself?

“I studied a lot in school and wasn’t athletic
and...” She thought she’d just skip the part about not dating much. “I became
known for my costumes. Helped with the plays, Halloween of course, and even
designed a new outfit for the school mascot.”

“That’s amazing. A successful corporate banker and
costume expert all rolled into one.”

“We all have our talents I guess.” She pushed her
chair back. “My specialty is gruesome dead people if you ever need help.”

“Dead people.” Brett let out another loud laugh.
“I’ll remember that.”

"What's going on?" Kelly asked, running
up to the table, Caroline trailing behind her. "Tell us the joke,
Mom."

Brett grinned at Allison, those darned dimples
capturing her breath. "Well, Mom?"

She jumped up and moved to the kitchen. "No
joke girls. We were just...uh..." She dropped her hands into the sink.
"Just having fun."

She quickly turned on the water, slipping into
mother mode. "Bring me your plates and I'll put them in the
dishwasher."

"Clean up your mess, Caroline. We need to be
getting home." He moved up behind Allison, leaning down to whisper in her
ear. "It was fun, wasn't it?"

His warm breath on her ear sent shivers down her
arms to her fingers, shaking the plate right out of her hands. Thank goodness
for rubber sink mats.

“We’ll have to do it again soon.”

She refused to turn around.

Squirting more liquid soap into the full sink, the
suds floated past her wrists, reaching for her elbows. She wished they could
reach her hot face.

When in the world had she last blushed?