Authors: Deneice Tarbox
Luca's Dilemma
Luca’s Dilemma
(Moriatti Men Book 2)
By
Deneice Tarbox
Polygirl Publishing
U.S.A.
Luca’s Dilemma.
Copyright: Deneice Tarbox
Published April 20, 2013
© 2013 by Deneice Tarbox to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
Polygirl Publishing
ISBN 9780988267244
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities between the characters and real persons are purely coincidental. Music and places mentioned are in no way an attempt to profit by the author. All credit is given to the artist. This book contains adult situations and language that is not appropriate for children.
Acknowledgements
To all my readers – Thanks for your patience and all the nice comments. You make it all worthwhile, and I’m so happy to know others share my strange sense of humor. I was starting to get scared.
To Miss Maria – Thanks for the encouragement as well as the appropriately placed foot that kept this ball rolling.
To Dawn – Thanks for your support. I feel much better now.
To Carole and Doug – Thanks for the inspiration. I hope it meets your expectations.
And finally, to my husband – Thanks. Here’s to another two decades. I love you.
Cover by: Robin Nuttall of DD Graphix
Edited by: Devin Govaere and
Michelle L. Schweitzer
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all those who offered encouragement, especially my dad. When I went back to college, you cheered me. When you found out about my first book, you were ecstatic before you even knew the contents. I know you weren’t supposed to stay forever, but I miss you. Your good deeds and love will live on through your many children, grandchildren, and so on. May the angels rejoice as they welcome you amongst them.
With all my love,
Mummy.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
The last Friday of September was a beautiful sunny day in Atlanta, Georgia. Sheila Leigh made her way through the large, open hallways toward the executive office suites located on the upper floors of the insurance company’s main building. She took pride in the fact that she could now, like the rest of her co–workers, power walk with confidence through the crazy maze of the colossal structure. It had taken all three years of employment as a sleep disorders caseworker manager to learn her way around, but hey, she’d finally managed to do it.
This was the last time she would walk these corridors for a while, as tomorrow she would begin her first real vacation in nearly eight years. After a lengthy courtship, Ahmed was finally whisking her away to Cancun, the one place she had always dreamed of going. She was more than confident he was going to pop the question, solidifying their eight–year relationship.
The long, arduous trek gave her plenty of time to muse over the events of the last couple of months. She had begun to notice that Randolph McRae, the Vice President of Operations, had changed over the last year. The already jittery Scotsman had become more anxious and difficult to approach, prompting her to keep much–needed distance between them.
The most disconcerting shift came after she notified him of a large discrepancy in the monthly budget. At the time she thought she had done the noble thing by bringing it to his attention. But he had turned it around on her, telling her that she was inept, and tried to put blame on her. On that sour note, Sheila had taken it upon herself to find the source of the error. Hours of extra work led her to discover that the money had apparently been going toward a copier service that the department no longer contracted with. She immediately contacted the finance department and had the payments stopped.
An air of buoyancy encompassed her, causing her spine to stretch taller as she allowed the stress of that situation to slide off her shoulders. Sheila wasn’t usually one for patting herself on the back, but she’d be lying to herself if she wasn’t under the belief that Randolph’s abrupt meeting was to congratulate her for taking the initiative to uncover and rectify the problem. Surely this abrupt meeting was called to give her the appropriate salutation one gives a good employee before they trot off on a well–earned vacation.
Standing outside his office, Sheila took a second to observe her boss and couldn't stop her heart from going out to him. The short, round man looked stressed and tired. The few strands of hair that remained on his rounded head had transitioned to more white than blond over the past year. The large bags under his eyes had grown baggier, taking on a dusky color that made him appear to be in a state of perpetual despondency.
Word out was that, after years of sobriety, Sheila’s mentor was losing his battle with his ethanol demons. Although Sheila didn’t want to believe the rumors, her boss’s large, red, veiny nose and watery bloodshot eyes were telltale signs that her colleagues might be right. Perhaps her boss was the one who needed a vacation.
Snapping out of it before Randolph could catch her gawking, she lightly rapped on the open door to get his attention. “Good afternoon, Randy,” she said, unable to stop the wide smile that settled across her face as her thoughts returned to her impeding escape.
“Come on in, Sheila. Close the door behind you,” Randolph responded without looking up from his desk. His thick gray–filled eyebrows were drawn tight, alerting Sheila right away that this meeting would be far from cordial.
The smile slipped from Sheila’s face as she placed herself in the small chair directly in front of him. She had always felt insignificant sitting in that chair while he remained seated in the large leather executive chair behind his enormous desk. Sheila surmised that this was probably the purpose of such a setup.
“It appears we have a problem,” Randy continued, finally pulling his large brown eyes away from his desk to look up at her. They never left hers while he put away the file he had been holding.
“A problem?” Sheila echoed, completely caught off guard by the seriousness of his expression. A shadow began to fill his enormous orbs, causing Sheila’s heart to slam in her chest.
“Yes. I’ve just received a few complaints about you from some of the other VPs. It appears they’ve taken an affront to your assertiveness during company meetings.”
Sheila blinked in confusion. “I guess I don’t understand,” she started, miraculously controlling the slight tremor in her voice. “Why is this suddenly an issue? Has my assertiveness not been noted as a good quality in my last three evaluations? I believe your exact words were, ‘How can we move forward and improve as a corporation if much–needed input is not given? It's attitudes like Sheila's that continue to make this possible.’”
Randolph's nares flared. His chubby jaw twitched ever so slightly. “Perhaps they’ve grown weary of your tone,” he responded, failing to keep the annoyance out of his voice. That goading tone had become familiar over the past year, as it carried ever the slightest hint of his Scottish origin and lately had encroached on many a conversation between the two of them. The slow, repetitive rotating of the Celtic ring on his right finger was further attestation of his ire.
“I still don't understand, Randy.” Softening her tone, Sheila held hopes of reaching the man she once knew. “I’ve always spoken with the utmost respect when dealing with my superiors as well as my peers. You said so yourself. Again, I don’t understand why they would suddenly think otherwise, or why they aren’t addressing me directly, for that matter. No one has ever withheld their opinion before.”
Randy’s features suddenly relaxed, and a hint of a smile spread across his face, prompting Sheila to settle more easily in the uncomfortable chair. Relief began to wash over her, as it appeared she was finally reaching her old friend.
“Now, Sheila, we all know you’re well–spoken and able to articulate your words better than most, which is often surprising to many of your superiors.” He cocked his fat head ever so slightly to the side.
Sheila didn't need a mirror to know the look she now gave him was nothing short of murderous.
I’ve got some articulate words I’d like to share with you,
she thought, but knew it would do no good to stoop to his level. “Where's this going, Randy?” she managed to say in a tight, but professional, tone.
“I think it would be best if we re–filed your vacation as a leave of absence… an extended leave of absence.”
As a manager, Sheila immediately recognized the yellow form he pulled out of his top drawer. He placed it on his desk, glancing over it with those bushy eyebrows pinched together before swiftly reversing it and sliding it across the desk toward her. She couldn't help but notice how those eyebrows became one long bush whenever he appeared to be in deep concentration mode. Picking up the paper, she began to read, unable to control the way her face contorted in disbelief with every word.
“You’re firing me for doing my job?”
“I believe the proper term for it is ‘involuntary leave.’ If this poor behavior should continue
then
you will be terminated,” he stated, clasping his pudgy hands together on top of his desk.
“I guess I won’t have to worry about striving to improve my behavior since you’re
really
not giving me a chance to do so.”
Randy didn’t respond with words. Instead a smug smile crept across his face, as though this was all some sort of perverse game to him.
Terminated.
The word echoed in Sheila's head, and the muscles of her stomach tightened in response as the realization of what was truly happening began to sink in. She felt as though he had punched her in the solar plexus and could do little else but stare dumbfounded at the man she had once looked up to. Several of her so–called assertive ideas had been implemented into company policies, not to mention she had worked her butt off increasing profits while minimizing turnover just to have him pull this shit on her.
A fog fell over her as the full impact of this injustice became real. She managed to clear her mind just enough to ask her next question. “May I have a copy of this?” She loosened the death grip she hadn't realized she held on the form, allowing it to float back to the desk.
“So you can show it to your lawyer boyfriend? I don’t think so.” His smile turned sly, and his eyes took on a strange shimmer.
Sheila's eyes widened. The bastard was getting off on this horror show. Her eyes roamed his aging features looking for any sign that this was a bad joke. She half expected Jamie Kennedy to pop in at any minute and make this terrible moment go away.
“Just sign at the bottom and hand it back please,” he said with a nod of his balding head, ripping away every last strand of hope.
His words brought her back to the reality of the situation. With little choice, Sheila signed the document and handed it back to him. She wasn’t sure how, but she managed to keep it together long enough to make her way back through the intricate labyrinth and to her car. A silent prayer of thanks was offered up for doing so without bumping into anyone she knew and for having the foresight to leave her purse in the car, which had a coded entry system. She called her office to let them know she would be forgoing the rest of the day and drove straight home.
***
The short drive to the historic Atlanta suburb where she resided seemed to take forever. Sheila felt a little better once she pulled up in front of the old light gray Victorian home that her grandparents had willed her. Her intention was to go inside, call Ahmed, and discuss the incident. Crying wasn’t an option. Their time together had taught her that Ahmed couldn't handle such emotions to the point of literally shutting down. Sheila knew how much he valued his business hours, but she had to talk to someone. Yes, he was busy, but given the circumstances, surely he would make time for his live–in girlfriend, just this once.