Show and Tell (15 page)
As it was, she hadn’t gotten hold of him since their Tuesday rendezvous. And she didn’t want her next call to be a hurried few minutes between the time she got home and when he left work.
Trinity sagged in her chair as her father transcribed a few numbers from the annual report onto a pad.
Okay, there was another reason. Without an office, she was virtually on the same rung of the ladder as Inga. She needed to show the woman she was one rung higher. But how to explain
that
? “I think my job will garner more respect if I’m a manager.”
that
? “I think my job will garner more respect if I’m a manager.”
Her father removed his glasses and set them aside. “Honey, I don’t want this to be harsh, but you’re supervising clerks, not fully degreed accountants. And
you
aren’t a degreed accountant.”
you
aren’t a degreed accountant.”
Yet she did have a college degree, even if it wasn’t in accounting. “I have to work deals with deadbeat customers.”
He shook his head, smiling indulgently. “It’s not as if we have a huge customer base as this point, dear. It can’t take too much time.”
Since the merger with Castle Heavy Mining, Daddy had been seriously expanding his customer list. With her brother Lance’s actions, they could have been out of business altogether if Castle’s management had decided to cut off Green Industries and do the work in-house. Connor and Faith’s father, Jarvis, however, had worked the merger deal and saved Green, though they had both insisted that Lance was out. Since then, her father had courted new customers, swearing he’d never allow the company to get into the same state of dependency on one customer.
Still, he was right, calling customers took up less than 10 percent of her day. What she needed was some credibility. But how to get it? Somehow Inga came out smelling like Christian Dior after every battle, while Trinity was merely cheap cologne from a drugstore shelf.
If she could get rid of Inga. There had to be a way. She tipped her head. “Daddy, do you think—” She stopped the horrific words before they came out of her mouth.
“Do I think what, honey?” Thank goodness his attention was still on the numbers.
“Nothing. I’ll be fine with a cubicle.” She rose and sidled toward his outside door, avoiding his main door so she wouldn’t have to face Verna in the outer office. Verna always knew when something was wrong. Turning the handle, she backed out into the hallway, then blew her father a kiss.
With the door closed, Trinity sagged against the wall. Good Lord. She’d actually been about to ask her father to fire Inga. When had she become such a weakling? Worse, she sounded like a spoiled brat whining because things weren’t going her way. What was
wrong
with her? To even
think
about firing someone simply because she didn’t know how to handle her was . . . unthinkable.
wrong
with her? To even
think
about firing someone simply because she didn’t know how to handle her was . . . unthinkable.
Her mother would be ashamed of her. Her mother would have figured out the secret to making Inga like her. Hah, her mother never would have had the problem in the first place.
What Trinity needed was some good old-fashioned girl talk to help her devise a plan of attack. Back at her desk, she sent an immediate distress text message to Faith and Josie inviting them to dinner. Then she e-mailed Scott because she couldn’t stand getting his voice mail one more time. Hearing his recorded voice was no longer enough.
Short and sweet. “If you want me to call you tonight, then you better send me your cell number.”
Now all she had to do was get through an Inga-infested afternoon.
HIS heart beat faster when he saw her e-mail in his in-box. Getting ready for audit, too many numbers fogging his brain, and Ron Rudd going on about the bottom line had drained him and kept him in meetings. He’d missed her. Badly. For two straight nights, he’d dreamed of making kinky love to her. He hadn’t gotten enough of her. He hadn’t even touched her yet.
“Scott, have you got a few minutes?”
Damn. He almost said no. Grace Bunnell was his controller and exceptionally capable. If she wanted a few minutes, it was something important. Despite his instant hard-on at nothing more than a virtual address, he shut down his personal e-mail.
Pulling the chair back opposite his desk, Grace settled and crossed her legs. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was wearing a shorter skirt. He couldn’t remember seeing her knees before. Or that much thigh. She’d been the picture of prim and proper, yet there’d been her recent nasty divorce. She’d told him because she wanted to assure him it wouldn’t interfere with her work. Interesting, perhaps she’d started dating. Good for her. It wasn’t his business, though, and he certainly wouldn’t ask.
“What can I do for you, Grace?”
She swung her leg, reminding him instantly of Jezebel’s high heel slipping off, the way she’d leaned down, slid it on, then trailed her fingers all the way back up her leg, forcing his eyes to follow. Damn. He could not stop thinking about the woman.
“It’s about this prototype we’re buying from Green Industries. They want half the cost of the gold up front. According to their CEO, they buy their metal on consignment, but they have to fund the first shipment, and they don’t have any gold reserves at this time.”
“How much cash are we talking about?” Green did plating, bonding, and machining. They’d come in with a good bid on some components for the Millennium 5 wet-environment prealigner for robotic wafer manufacturing. The new machine would launch in six months.
Grace recrossed her legs, and the skirt rode higher. He could almost swear something flickered in her eyes, as if she were watching for his reaction. Then she named a dollar figure. It was reasonable.
“That’s fine.” He tapped a couple of keys and brought up the cash forecast. “We’ve got it covered.” Why was she asking? “You don’t have to check with me on something at that level.”
She blinked. “I know, I just . . .”
A good-looking woman, pretty brown hair, in decent shape, she tended toward pastel colors, blouses, and knee-length skirts. But yeah, if he wasn’t mistaken, she had changed her wardrobe to shorter skirts, and today, a sweater that molded to her chest. He hadn’t noticed when she’d made the change.
“Is something bothering you about Green?” he asked.
“Uh, no.” She stood, straightened her skirt.
He got the oddest feeling she was trying to draw attention to it. Was she expecting a compliment on the new attire? He never made personal comments. When she’d started crying in his office the day she’d told him she wouldn’t let the divorce get in the way, he’d awkwardly handed her a tissue. He hadn’t been good with a woman’s tears since the girls were over ten. And when they cried about boys, damn, he’d wanted to come out swinging.
“Well”—Grace backed toward the door—“I’ll authorize the wire transfer then.”
Once she was gone, he cocked his head at the open office door. Weird. Something else was going on. He wondered if someone had sexually harassed her, and she didn’t quite know how to speak up. Nah. Grace wouldn’t let anyone pull any crap.
He opened his e-mail and typed in his cell number.
Glancing at his watch, he had hours to go. Hell, knowing Jezebel, she’d call him at midnight just to keep him on his toes.
“HOW long has she worked there?” Josie dipped her bread in the balsamic vinegar, then gave a to-die-for moan of pleasure. “God, I love this stuff. Don’t let me have any more or I won’t eat my dinner.”
Trinity had ordered the pine nut salad because she wanted to save room for every last crumb of brandy-soaked bread pudding. They’d commandeered a quiet booth tucked in the back corner of Vatovola’s, her very favorite restaurant. She usually shared the bread pudding with Faith—or whomever she was dining with—but she’d never allowed herself more than one mind-blowing bite. All afternoon, except when she was fantasizing about Scott, she’d dreamed about feasting on the whole dessert.
“I have no idea how long she’s been there.” She tipped her head, visualizing Daddy’s Christmas parties and company picnics. “You know, I think it might be five years or so.”
“And you didn’t even know her name until your boss introduced you?” Josie let her jaw drop for emphasis.
Faith didn’t say a word, concentrating instead on her own balsamic-dipped bread. That was the difference between the two cousins. Josie came out with whatever was on her mind while Faith always thought through every nuance of what she wanted to say. Then again, maybe she was feeling the baby.
Sitting in the booth across from her, Trinity patted her hand. “You okay?”
Faith smiled. “I don’t want to get in the middle of the argument I see coming.”
“We don’t argue,” Josie said. She tucked locks of her unruly dark hair behind her ear. “We discuss vociferously.”
Trinity liked Josie’s forthright manner. She said it like it was. Trinity needed to hear it that way, because Faith’s toned-down-to-protect -her-best-friend’s-feelings method didn’t always get through Trinity’s thick skull. Trinity readily admitted she had one.
She went back to the
vociferous
discussion with Josie. “I bet you don’t know everyone’s name down at Castle.”
vociferous
discussion with Josie. “I bet you don’t know everyone’s name down at Castle.”
Josie waved her bread. “Of course, I do.”
“Every single one?” Trinity held up her finger when Josie opened her mouth. “Think about it a second.”
“I don’t need to think about it. I know them all.”
“But,” Faith interjected, “you’ve worked at Daddy’s company since you got out of college, Josie.”
“Trinity went practically every day to the plant for one reason or another even before she started this new job. It’s the same thing.”
Josie was right. Trinity often popped down to say hello to her father or Lance or have a daughterly chat with Verna. Or if there was a particularly cute guy. Not that Daddy would ever have approved of her dating an employee, but Trinity did like to look. In fact, that’s how she’d met Connor, when he worked for Daddy, and she’d known right away that he’d be right for Faith. Look how perfect that had turned out.
But she was getting off topic here. “All right, so I totally blew it.” She threw up both hands in surrender. “But that’s water under the bridge now. How do I fix it?”
“Well . . .” Josie was saved from having to answer by their waiter’s timely arrival.
“Salad for you.” He placed Trinity’s pine nut extravaganza in front of her, beaming at her with pearly whites from within a nicely trimmed mustache. “And salad for the little momma.” He gave an equally sweet smile to Faith. “And the teriyaki skirt steak for you.” Hmm, was that an extra heavy-duty smile for Josie? “Anything else I can get you lovely ladies?”
Faith held up her glass. “More water with lemon, please?”
A moment later he sent over a busboy with the water pitcher and a plate of lemon quarters.
The salad, pine nuts with vinegar dressing over tart greens, was yummy. Before she’d always picked off the pine nuts. What a waste. “I’ve been comparing the whole problem to fund-raising.”
“Huh?” Josie followed up the inelegant sound with a grimace.
Trinity savored another bite of salad even as she found herself eyeing Josie’s skirt steak and garlic mashed potatoes. They smelled divine. “Fund-raising is like being a supervisor. You’ve got all these worker bees that you have to organize and somehow make sure they do what needs to be done.”
Trinity was an expert. She beguiled, soft-shoed, bribed, sweetened the pot. And if that didn’t work, she stopped giving the helper any tasks. Hence the problem. In order to be successful, she needed Inga’s help.
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