Echoes of Titanic (3 page)

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Authors: Mindy Starns Clark

BOOK: Echoes of Titanic
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“Yes?” Kelsey looked around the room for a clock, hoping her assistant wouldn't take much longer.

“Next time you fake a phone call as you're leaving,” Sharon said with a chuckle, “make sure you actually bring your cell phone with you.”

Quickly, Kelsey patted her pockets, her face burning with heat when all she came up with was the headset.

“Busted,” was the best she could say, and then they both laughed. “So who else knows?”

“Just me. I was putting some files on your desk when I heard a ringtone coming from a drawer. I found your phone in your purse and put it on mute. Hope that was okay.”

“Of course. I appreciate it,” Kelsey said, grateful for the quick thinking—and discretion—of her faithful assistant. “Would you do me another favor and lock up my office before you head down to the ceremony?”

“No problem, Chief.”

They ended the call, and Kelsey decided that before she went to talk to Gloria she would take a few minutes to fix herself up for the ceremony. Hoping to avoid having to go downstairs to her office, she decided to pay a visit to the executive washroom instead, where she knew all sorts of necessities could be found.

Slipping from the conference room into the main hall, Kelsey walked toward the front of the building. Though she had to go past a reception area and several offices along the way, she made it to the primary executive suite without having to pause and chat with anyone. Fortunately, the door to the CEO's office on her left was closed, and the EA that worked for the upper echelon, the exotically lovely Yanni, was busy talking on the phone and simply waved Kelsey on through to the right. With a smile and a nod, she turned
and continued down the hallway, past the closed door of Gloria's office, to the executive washroom.

As expected, inside were baskets of toiletries on the wide marble counter. She washed her hands and then helped herself to an individually wrapped toothbrush and a tiny, disposable packet of toothpaste. After brushing her teeth, she unwrapped a fresh comb and ran it through her hair, trying to neaten up the windblown look she'd earned from her walk outside. She followed that with a shot of hairspray, a little dab of face powder, and some lip gloss for the cameras' sake, and then she stepped back, smoothed out her clothes, and studied the full effect in the mirror.

Whenever Kelsey looked at herself, the word that came to mind was “Irish”—not the red-headed, pale-skinned, green-eyed variety that most folks thought were the norm. Instead, she and her family sported a look far more common among the Irish: dark hair, even-toned skin, blue eyes.

Taking a cue from her mentor Gloria—and from her great-grandmother Adele, for that matter—Kelsey always bought the nicest clothes she could afford, knowing they were a business investment of sorts. Today she was sporting a new Hugo Boss suit in a soft gray pinstripe, accented with a red silk blouse and a pair of red Gaetano Perrone shoes. On her lapel was her favorite piece of jewelry, a hat pin she'd inherited from her great-grandmother and often wore as a stickpin instead. Purchased in London the day before Adele and her cousin and uncle set sail for America on
Titanic
, the top of the hat pin was in the shape of a tiny Irish harp, a lovely reminder of their homeland.

The overall look Kelsey always strived for was class, competence, and understated elegance. Examining her image in the mirror now, she felt that today's outfit had really hit the mark. Her layered, shoulder-length brown hair nicely framed her face, and the touch of makeup emphasized her lips and gave a smooth, matte finish to her skin.

Now all she had to do, she decided, was to get through the big event. In the end, though she wasn't looking forward to it at all, at least the new scholarship program made this trouble worthwhile.

Gloria's door was still closed, so Kelsey knocked first and then cracked it open, peeking through to see if her friend was in there by herself or if she had company. Fortunately, she was alone, and though she looked quite startled for a moment, she invited Kelsey in.

“Well, if it isn't the woman of the hour,” Gloria said. Papers were spread
across her desk, but she quickly shoved them into a single file folder and slipped it in a drawer. “You look gorgeous. Is that a new suit?”

Grinning, Kelsey slowly turned in a full circle. “Gotta look good in the photos. It's all about playing the game, right?”

“I've taught you well, my dear.”

Kelsey took her usual seat in one of the two leather chairs facing the desk—a move she'd done countless times before. Yet as she settled in, she detected an odd expression on the older woman's face, as if she were more nervous and apprehensive than Kelsey herself. Worse, in fact. Though Gloria could usually be found looking perfectly polished, at the moment she was anything but, with dark circles under her eyes, rumpled clothing, and not a speck of makeup on.

“Are you okay?” Kelsey asked. She didn't want to be rude, but clearly something was wrong. “You're not sick, are you?”

“Just tired. I worked later than I should have last night. You know how it is.”

Gloria obviously didn't want to talk about it, so Kelsey simply nodded and changed the subject, asking about the order of events for the ceremony. Gloria spelled things out, describing what sounded like a two-person show featuring Kelsey and the company's CEO, Walter Hallerman.

Kelsey scrunched up her face in dismay. “What about a board member or two? And don't we want to include somebody from the foundation?”

“Stop trying to deflect, Kels. You know as well as I do that this is all about you. That's the whole point.”

Miserably, Kelsey slumped in her chair. “This is getting so old.”

Gloria pulled off her glasses and nervously cleaned them with the corner of her blouse. “Hopefully, it won't be for much longer.”

Both women knew Kelsey really had no choice—both for her family's sake and for the sake of the corporation. According to management, after Nolan Tate, Kelsey's father and the firm's leader, suffered a stroke last year, the company's value had taken a serious nosedive and now they needed to show that someone else would be carrying on the Tate name, someone who possessed the same sharp gut instincts and business acumen for which the Tates had long been known. As Kelsey was the only other family member who currently worked here, she'd become the logical choice by default.

It was a heavy weight to bear, one that was feeling heavier all the time. She
was happy to carry on the family legacy and didn't mind doing her part to bolster the company's image, but she was getting awfully tired of being the center of attention. Last week had been a feature article in the
New York Times
magazine section about the “up-and-comer with the Midas touch.” Prior to that, her name and face had been splashed across countless other newspapers and magazines, and she'd even appeared on a few local television and radio interview shows. Now she was about to go through this ridiculous ceremony, all for the sake of reassuring the public that even though Nolan Tate might be sidelined for now, another, just-as-capable Tate was ready to step up and prove that the family gift for investing was alive and well.

“I hope you're right,” she said tiredly. “I don't think I can stand much more.”

An odd look appeared on Gloria's face, and Kelsey thought she was about to say something important. But then, after a moment, she simply cleared her throat and asked if Kelsey needed any last-minute help polishing her speech.

“No, thanks. It's fine. But what were you thinking, just now? I can tell there's something on your mind today.”

The older woman's cheeks flushed. “It's not important. I was…I was going to tell you not to worry, that the end is in sight. Maybe sooner than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

Gloria shrugged and looked away, her fingers nervously taking off her glasses, cleaning them again, and putting them back on. Before she replied, the phone on the desk buzzed, startling her so much she practically fell out of her chair.

Face flushing, Gloria resettled herself in her seat and pushed the button for the speaker. Out came the voice of Walter, their CEO.

“I just got downstairs and don't see Kelsey. Have you talked to her?”

“She's here with me now.”

“Good. Tell her to hurry up and get down here. We'll be starting in ten minutes.”

“No problem.”

“Have her take the stairs and use the side door to go backstage. She can wait there until I finish my introduction.”

“Will do.”

With a click he was gone.

“You heard the man,” Gloria said, suddenly using her brightest pep talk voice, though it sounded strained and on edge. She rose, walked to the door, and stood there holding it open. “It's showtime, kid. You'd better get downstairs. Break a leg, or whatever it is they say.”

Kelsey stood, feeling oddly dismissed. “Aren't you coming with me?”

“I…uh…I'll slip in the back later.”

“But I thought we could go down together.”

“I don't think so,” Gloria responded without further explanation.

“Listen, are you
sure
you're all right?” Kelsey pressed, moving closer.

The woman wouldn't meet her gaze, though after a moment, much to Kelsey's surprise, her eyes filled with tears. Cooing sympathetically, Kelsey pulled a clean tissue from her pocket and handed it over, asking again what was wrong, if Gloria wanted to talk about it.

“Is it something with work?”

Gloria didn't reply.

“Maybe something personal? A problem with you and Vern, perhaps?”

Even though Gloria's marriage wasn't exactly known to be warm and fuzzy, she seemed surprised at the thought. Shaking her head, she blew her nose and said, “It's…I…” Her voice trailed off as she dabbed at her tears. Then she took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

“I'm so sorry,” she said, looking down at the floor and speaking in a soft voice. “Have you ever done something bad out of good intentions?”

Kelsey was surprised. What an odd question for an ethical, no-nonsense woman like Gloria to ask.

“You mean, the ‘end justifies the means'?”

Gloria nodded. “Exactly.”

“Probably,” Kelsey replied, studying her friend's face. “One time when I was a kid, my mother wouldn't buy me the mini marshmallows I wanted from the grocery store, so while she was busy at the checkout, I went back and got a bag off the shelf, tore it open, and started eating them anyway. I figured that once they were open she'd have no choice but to buy them. Of course, I didn't count on her making me pay her back out of my allowance—and then she didn't even let me have the rest of the marshmallows.”

Both women smiled, but fresh tears filled Gloria's eyes. “If only this were that simple.” She blinked, sending twin tracks of wetness down her cheeks.

Kelsey felt terrible for the poor thing, but she still didn't have a clue as to what any of this was about. Of all the people in this office, Gloria was the
very last person she'd ever expect to talk this way, much less to stand in an open doorway and
cry
.

Suddenly, before Kelsey could even think of how to reply, Gloria gripped her by both arms and spoke in an urgent whisper.

“You don't have to go down there, you know,” she hissed. “You don't have to do this at all. You could walk right out the back door and go home, and I could tell Walter you weren't feeling well and had to leave.”

Kelsey was dumbfounded. What on
earth
was Gloria talking about?

“Why would I do that? It's just a stupid ceremony. I'll get through it, no big deal.”

Just as suddenly, Gloria let go of her arms, stepped back, and placed both hands over her eyes. “What am I saying? Don't listen to me. I'm not myself today at all.”

Kelsey stood there amidst her friend's meltdown, thinking,
You can say that again
. She wondered if perhaps Gloria had been drinking or something. She didn't smell alcohol on her breath, but she certainly was acting strange—stranger than Kelsey could ever have imagined.

“Enough of this,” Gloria said finally, taking her hands from her face and giving Kelsey a broad, forced smile. “Are you ready to go? Because your time's up. Come on, Tater Tot. Forget what I said earlier. I'll walk you down myself.”

CHAPTER
TWO

W
ithout another word, Gloria took Kelsey by the elbow and led her down the hall and through the executive conference room to the door for the back stairwell. Kelsey stepped out first and Gloria followed, and then the two women headed side by side down the steps, silent all the way to the first floor. Kelsey wanted to question her friend's odd behavior more thoroughly, but that would have wait until after the ceremony. The company had gone to so much trouble with the event the least Kelsey could do was show up on time.

The bottom of the stairwell had four doors, one on each wall, leading to the outside, to maintenance, to the auditorium, and to the backstage area. Kelsey headed for the latter, but Gloria stopped her by taking her hand.

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