Show and Tell (20 page)
“Now if you’ll excuse me—” Inga tipped her head. Animosity shimmered around her like a halo.
Eyes narrowed and lips decidedly pinched, a look she knew was not her best, Trinity exited the cubicle. Just outside, she almost tripped over Boyd. Pity sparkled in his eyes as he leaped out of her way. On the other side of a cube partition, she was sure she heard a snicker. Whispers. Finally a phone rang, then another, and the bullpen returned to its normal din.
God. She craved a mocha in the worst way. Extra chocolate. With a shot of orange. To be the object of pity, well, Trinity couldn’t quite fathom it. Inga’s rudeness went beyond anger that she hadn’t gotten Trinity’s job. Inga hated Trinity herself.
In her own cube, Trinity checked her in-basket. The morning’s list of received cash transfers and auto deposits still topped off the stack. There must be a binder or a folder to file it in, but she had yet to find it.
But
why
did Inga hate her? Figuring that one out was like trying to find the fix for global warming, but she would not give up. At least she’d figured the system out herself. It
was
like shopping at her favorite online wholesale hair product sites. Right now she couldn’t do more than peruse customer and vendor profiles, addresses, phone numbers, and balances. But she was getting the hang of it despite Inga Rice.
why
did Inga hate her? Figuring that one out was like trying to find the fix for global warming, but she would not give up. At least she’d figured the system out herself. It
was
like shopping at her favorite online wholesale hair product sites. Right now she couldn’t do more than peruse customer and vendor profiles, addresses, phone numbers, and balances. But she was getting the hang of it despite Inga Rice.
Yet she could feel herself getting hot under the collar just thinking about Inga. Maybe she needed a cold water splash on her face. In the restroom mirror, she did seem a little flushed. Her cheeks almost matched her bright fuchsia shift.
Trinity sucked in a breath.
Good Lord. Her stomach had a bulge she hadn’t noticed this morning when she stepped into the dress and zipped it.
“I’m fat,” she whispered. Just as Lance had said last night. Too many late-evening bowls of ice cream, not to mention that whole piece of bread pudding. How many calories were in the brandy sauce alone? Oh God.
Breathe.
The sudden anxiety was all about Inga and nothing to do with her dress. She sucked in her belly, turned sideways, and smoothed a hand down the flat plane of her tummy. All she had to do was hold her breath and everything was fine.
The sudden anxiety was all about Inga and nothing to do with her dress. She sucked in her belly, turned sideways, and smoothed a hand down the flat plane of her tummy. All she had to do was hold her breath and everything was fine.
“And look at those breasts.” She marveled at how she filled out the dress’s darts. Wow. She’d always had to stuff a little extra cotton in there. But not now.
Scott said she had gorgeous breasts. He’d also said he was madly, deeply, head over heels in lust with her. He thought she was perfect. So there. She stuck her tongue out at the mirror, then laughed like a child.
Hmm.
Why would he give her that kind of power, though? Perhaps because lust wasn’t the same thing as love. A man could turn it off as easily as he turned it on. Unlike love. Yet Harper had said he loved her and it hadn’t meant a thing. Yes, being the object of Scott’s lust was so much better.
Why would he give her that kind of power, though? Perhaps because lust wasn’t the same thing as love. A man could turn it off as easily as he turned it on. Unlike love. Yet Harper had said he loved her and it hadn’t meant a thing. Yes, being the object of Scott’s lust was so much better.
Behind her, the restroom door squeaked on its hinges. Trinity let out her breath in a whoosh.
Christina Lee appeared in the mirror’s reflection. Her black hair in a pageboy style, she tucked an absolutely straight lock behind her ear. “You mustn’t let it get to you.”
How had the girl known about the weight gain?
“She treats everybody like that at first.” She spoke perfect English with a hint of foreign diction. “But she’ll get warmer the more she knows you.”
Oh. Christina meant the
b
-
i
-
t
-
c
-
h
. Trinity debated how to handle it. Could she trust the girl? After all, Inga might have sent her in here to further tighten the screw.
b
-
i
-
t
-
c
-
h
. Trinity debated how to handle it. Could she trust the girl? After all, Inga might have sent her in here to further tighten the screw.
Since when had she become so suspicious? In the mirror Trinity didn’t like what she saw, and it wasn’t the extra ice cream, orange mocha, or bread pudding drenched in brandy sauce.
A silly, frightened woman with dark circles under her eyes stared out of the mirror. Her confidence and self-assurance had circled the drain the night she found Harper with his lover. He’d washed it down with the pulse of the showerhead.
She swallowed her emotions and smiled at Christina. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” It was noncommittal, devoid of any slam against Inga, yet it acknowledged the girl’s kindness.
Christina nodded, and still observing her in the mirror, Trinity realized she wasn’t a girl at all but as old as Trinity herself. She was, however, slender as a will-o’-the-wisp and a head shorter than Trinity.
“Have you girls decided where you want to eat?”
“Anything but Chinese food.” Then Christina smiled and disappeared inside a stall.
Trinity washed her hands and returned to her desk. On the way, Mr. Ackerman—she still had trouble thinking of him as Mister— waylaid her in the hall. “Can we talk in my office?”
“Certainly.” Jeez, what had she done wrong? And wasn’t
that
a negative thought?
that
a negative thought?
Mr. Ackerman rubbed the top of his head as she entered the office behind him. In the chair opposite his desk, Trinity sat and crossed her legs. He tapped his upper lip where a bead of sweat sprouted like an ingrown whisker.
“What can I do for you?” she said brightly.
“I wanted to see how your first week with us has gone.”
“It’s been fine, thanks.”
His office walls were covered with an impressive array of certificates. He’d successfully completed a SOX seminar. To do with baseball? On his desk, blobs of fired clay held down stacks of papers. “Is that a turtle?”
Anthony beamed. “My daughter’s taking a pottery class.” He brought the turtle to eye level, staring cross-eyed at it. “I think it’s a frog.”
“She’s very talented.”
Anthony barked out a laugh. “The next Rembrandt, by Jove.” He looked so much less harried talking about his daughter.
“Now, why did you really call me in here?”
He grinned, a sheepish sparkle in his blue eyes. “Your father wanted to make sure you were happy here.”
Her
father
? “I’m very happy. Are you happy?”
father
? “I’m very happy. Are you happy?”
“Oh, infinitely happy.”
“Then we can both tell Daddy how happy we are.” She smiled, yet it felt brittle on her lips. It was a bit like being in college and still needing your mom to call the teacher for your homework assignment. Trinity didn’t need the humiliation.
“Anything else?” She smiled as sweetly as possible and rose to her feet.
“No, no.” More moisture gathered on his upper lip. “Keep up the good work.”
She hadn’t done any real work to date. Christina handled most of the AR calls. The AP girls handled the vendors. Inga did the check run. All Trinity did was review. She didn’t even know if there was anything wrong with whatever she reviewed. She’d played incessantly with the computer system, slogged through the AP/AR procedures manual, studied the wire book in preparation for sending a wire transfer, but had yet to do even that task.
“Well, everything is fine and dandy, Mr. Ackerman. You can tell my father that, then we’ll
all
be happy.”
all
be happy.”
Why did it feel so demoralizing?
Because no one else in the entire work world had their father checking up on them. Not even Lance. Which
had
been a problem. If Daddy’d checked, he might not have screwed up.
had
been a problem. If Daddy’d checked, he might not have screwed up.
Lord, thinking about Lance reminded her she had to plead his case. She couldn’t do that now. Not today.
She backed out of Mr. Ackerman’s office with all its certificates and unrecognizable clay animals. “I’m taking the girls to lunch,” she said. “I feel we should get to know each other.”
He stood. “Good idea. Wonderful.”
Rah-rah. Go Trinity. It sounded like a high school cheer. If she screwed up and cost the company a ton of money in late fees on a past-due bill, she had the feeling Anthony Ackerman would still tell her father she was perfect. She wouldn’t get fired, because she was the boss’s daughter.
She should have gotten a job somewhere else. Where she could make a
real
first impression. Where she wasn’t Herman Green’s daughter. Or Harper Harrington’s cast-off wife.
real
first impression. Where she wasn’t Herman Green’s daughter. Or Harper Harrington’s cast-off wife.
“Take an extra half hour at lunch, too.” Waving a hand in the air, Mr. Ackerman pulled a folder close and opened it.
How was she to show everyone at Green that she could actually do the job and do it well?
Dead center in the hallway outside his office, Trinity put her fingers to her lips. She sounded like a whiner even inside her own head.
This was bad. She’d morphed from normal to whiner within the space of two weeks. Dammit, she
would
get over it. And she’d wow her employees with bread pudding at Vatovola’s.
would
get over it. And she’d wow her employees with bread pudding at Vatovola’s.
“MEET me.”
Damn, he loved her voice over the phone, especially when she was demanding. “When?”
“Now.”
It was Friday. He glanced at his watch, a habit, since he already knew it wasn’t quite five. “Where?”
“I don’t care, you pick.” A note he couldn’t identify laced her voice. She spoke quietly, as if she were somewhere she could be overheard, but it was more. Defeat? Depression?
Scott didn’t like to think of those emotions where Jezebel was concerned. “My house.”
“No.”
“You said I got to choose. And I want you in my bed.”
“How badly do you want to see me?” she asked.
Ah, he understood. She’d had an off day, and she needed an ego boost. “So badly that I’ve got a ton of paperwork on my desk, and I’m willing to walk away from it this minute.”
He had a Monday morning audit committee meeting to prepare for, but he didn’t care. Neither of the girls was coming home this weekend, so he’d work through it.
And he’d have his candy now.
“Is that because you’re madly in lust with me?”
He laughed. “Hell yes.”
She sighed, a light, satisfied sound. Then refused him. “If you want to see me, pick a place besides your house.”
“You’re a tease.” She wanted him just as badly, he knew.
A shadow in his periphery caught his attention. He cocked his head slightly. Grace stood in his doorway. For how long, he didn’t know, but she raised her hand and gave him the “come see me” signal. He jutted his chin in acknowledgment.
Jezebel gave a musical laugh, then lowered her voice. “With last night in the back of your car, you can’t call me a tease.”
“Correct.” His cock rose with the memory. He wanted to repeat last night’s activities and more. Over and over. In his bed. All night long. He just had to figure out how to get her there. “If it’s my choice, then I want dinner with you.”
She paused a long moment. “I can do that.”
Ah, victory. It was so damn sweet.
“But I don’t want to go anywhere near Vatovola’s.” A slight edge trimmed her voice.
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