Nickels

Nickels

By Karen Baney

Nickels

By
Karen Baney

Copyright
© 2011 by Karen Baney

Cover
Design by Karen Baney

Cover
Art from iStockPhoto

All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or
other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of
the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For
permission requests, write to the publisher, at the address below.

Publisher:

Karen
Baney

3281
E Joseph Way

Gilbert,
AZ 85295

www.karenbaney.com

Printed
in the United States of America

ISBN-
978-0-9835486-7-6

This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and
incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a
fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual
events is purely coincidental.

To my
brother. 

Thanks
for suggesting I get over

my
fear of computers.  Never

thought
it would turn into a career.

Chapter 1

Niki’s blaring music suddenly muted through her car stereo
as her phone rang.  She glanced down to see who was calling.  Marcy, her
roommate and best friend.  After their conversation this morning, she debated
whether or not to let the call go to voicemail.  On the third ring, she
answered.

“What’s up, Marcy?”

“Hey, that guy I told you about this morning wants to go to
dinner with you tonight.  He’ll call you later for directions and to see where
you want to go.”

Niki groaned.  What had Marcy gotten her into now?

“I gotta run.  I’ve got like thirty seconds to pick up
lunch, scarf it down, and get back to my client’s office for a meeting.”

“His name is Chad,” Marcy replied, ignoring her.  “Be nice
this time.  I think he could be the one for you.”

“I’m sure.  Like the last two guys were?”

Marcy blew out a frustrated sigh that echoed through the
speakers of Niki’s car.  “Just give him a chance.”

“Where’d you find this guy anyway?”

“A mutual friend gave me his number.”

Niki frowned.  Marcy was setting her up with a guy she never
even met?  “Gotta go.  Later.”  She punched the hang up button on her steering
wheel to end the call.

Of course, Carl—no Chad—would be “the one.”  Marcy was
always saying that.  Blind dates sucked.  Well, all dates sucked.

With her twenty-sixth birthday just around the corner, she
felt no urgency in finding love.  Unfortunately, Marcy had different ideas for
her.  In January, Marcy made it her New Year’s resolution to find someone for
Niki—which would be fine, if she had any intention of marrying—ever.  But, she
didn’t.  Falling in love would only mean pain.  Everyone she loved was ripped
from her.  Why would she want to go through that again?

She tried to explain that to her roommate, but she just
didn’t get it.  How could she?  Marcy’s parents were happily married and still
alive.  So was her brother.  She had no idea what it was like to lose everyone
she loved.

Turning the music down, she pulled into a drive-thru and
ordered chicken nuggets, yogurt, and a diet soda.  Not the healthiest lunch,
but she could eat the nuggets on the way back and have the yogurt after the
meeting.  Handing her debit card to the cashier, she waited impatiently for the
transaction to complete.  Snatching her card from the poor kid’s hand, she
peeled out to show her annoyance.

Ten minutes.  She was going to be late.  Brian hated it when
she was late.  But, after almost four years working for Brian at Elite
Software, he should know it was a rare occurrence.  Besides, this was a lessons
learned meeting for a very successful project.  Did she really need to sit
through an hour of back-slapping and high-fives for a job well done?

Stuffing the last chicken nugget in her mouth, she pulled
into a parking spot in front Hamilton Production Solutions.  As she grabbed her
phone from the hands-free cradle, it rang.  The caller ID said it was Brian. 

“In the parking lot,” she said, hanging up.  She stuffed the
phone into her purse.  She reached for her laptop case, yogurt, and diet soda. 
Hands full, she juggled the items around until she had enough of one hand free
to lock her car and open the building door.  Drat!  She forgot to switch out
her shoes.  Dashing back to her car, she set the soda and yogurt on the roof as
she unarmed the car.  Pulling her heels from the back seat, she placed them on
the ground.  Switching from her flip-flops to her heels only took a second. 
Then she flung the flip-flops in the back seat, armed her car, and loaded up
all of her stuff again.

It was so much harder to run in heels.

Rushing to the elevator, she took it to the second floor,
not wanting to try the stairs while laden with beverage, food, and computer. 
The elevator was slow.  She tapped her foot rapidly on the tile, as if that
would somehow make it faster.  As soon as the doors flew open, she jumped in
and pressed the button.  A minute later, she was at her destination, standing
in front of the conference room door.

She took a deep breath to slow her heart rate before she
entered the meeting—already in progress.  As she opened the door, a few people
glanced her way.  Niki took a seat next to Brian, setting her armload of items
on the table.  She fished around in her purse to set her phone on stun and
retrieved some lip gloss.  Once she was settled, she turned her full attention
toward the meeting.

As she expected, the project team at Hamilton was extremely
pleased with the fast delivery of the custom warehouse management software. 
They praised her coworker for his great project management skills, and then
Doug, Niki, and Jake for their excellent coding.

Funny how her whole career could be minimized into one word:
coding.  It irked her.  What she did was so much more complicated than just
coding or programming.  Half the time, she helped the client define what they
wanted.  She learned their industry, made recommendations, helped outline the
features of the software—all before writing one line of code.  Then, when it came
time to start the coding, her fingers blazed across the keyboard as her mind
created the perfect solution to incorporate the client’s needs as well as some
features they didn’t even know they wanted.  Coding was just the means to a
complete software product, not the end itself.

Brian leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Good job, Tardy
Turner.”

Leave it to him to get in a quick jab.  That was fine with
Niki.  Those jabs kept her sharp and tough in this predominately male field. 
She smiled sweetly at him, exaggeratedly batting her eyes to remind him of who
he was dealing with.

After the meeting concluded, Brian asked the team to tour
the warehouse so he could get a few pictures for the website.  She ate as much
of her yogurt as she could before they reached the warehouse, which amounted to
three bites.  Tossing the rest, she slurped down the last of her soda.  As they
entered the warehouse, she rooted around in her purse for her lip gloss again. 
Just because she was wicked smart, didn’t mean she couldn’t look good in
Brian’s shameless marketing photos.  She ran a hand over her long ponytail and
hoped it still looked perfect.

By the time Brian finished with the tour and photo op, it
was just a few minutes before five.  Great.  Traffic would be horrible from
Scottsdale to her home in Chandler.  At least she lived right off of the 101
freeway.

She checked her phone for messages as she rushed back to her
car.

“Hi.  It’s Chad.  Just calling to get directions to your
place so I can pick up you at 5:30.  I’ll try back later.”

Even if she didn’t have a problem with the guy picking her
up, making it home by 5:30 would be impossible even with Friday’s light
traffic.  When he called back she would just meet him—wherever.  Maybe she
should be thanking Brian for keeping her so late since it got her out of having
her date pick her up.

She smiled as she slid behind the wheel of her hybrid car. 
Turning the ignition on, it barely made a sound except for the loud volume of
her music.  As she backed out of the spot, she turned the car east towards the
freeway ramp.  Just after she merged into to traffic, her music muted as a call
came through.  She glanced at her phone.  She didn’t recognize the number so
she almost let it go to voicemail when she realized it might be Chad calling
her.  She tapped the button on the steering wheel to pick up the call.

“Hello.”

“Niki?  It’s Chad.”

“Hey.”

“Can you give me directions to your place?”

“No.”  Niki cringed at her own harshness.  Marcy would scold
her for that one.  “Sorry.  It’s just that… I just got on the freeway from
Scottsdale and I don’t think I’m going to make it home until almost six.”

“Oh.”

Great.  Nothing like shooting down the poor guy before ever
meeting him.  Marcy would tell her it’s no wonder she’s still single.

“Where did you want to go?  I can meet you there.  If it’s
near the Chandler Mall, I can probably be there just after six—though you’ll
have to put up with me in work clothes.”

“That’s fine.  How about Chili’s?”

“Perfect.  I’ll see you around six then.”

Click.

Her music flooded through the speakers again.  With her full
attention on the road, she moved over to the carpool lane.  Thank you State of
Arizona for letting hybrids ride in the carpool lane.  That little law alone
was the primary reason she bought the car.