Too Close to Touch (24 page)

v

For the Þ rst time since her mother died, Gretchen had actually hesitated to leave her parents’ house. The feeling annoyed her even now, two days later, as she sat at her desk in her ofÞ ce and went through Thursday morning’s e-mail.

Kylie had been right: there were no crises, no emergencies that hadn’t been handled while she was away, and she honestly wasn’t sure how she felt about that. True, it was really only a day and a half that she’d been gone, but she didn’t like being out of the loop even that long. She’d gotten back into the ofÞ ce yesterday afternoon, cleaned up her accumulated e-mail and returned a few phone calls, but otherwise, things were running smoothly. She was almost disappointed.

A rap on her door frame pulled her thoughts back to the present and she looked up to see Margo Wheeler standing in the entryway. Her navy blue skirt and jacket were a smart combination and her hair had been recently colored and styled. She looked very classy.

“How’s your father doing?” She smiled expectantly at Gretchen.

“He’s good. Thanks for asking.”

“I’m surprised to see you back so soon.” Though her tone held only surprise and no accusation, Gretchen stiffened at the feeling of defensiveness that prickled down her spine.

“There’s not really a lot I can do there, you know? He’s going to be in the hospital for a while longer and my brother and sister-in-law live close by and have things under control, so…” She trailed off under Margo’s scrutiny and glanced down at the open Þ le on her desk, Þ ddling with the corner of the paper.

• 169 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“Well, still. If you feel the need to go back for a few days, feel free. We certainly don’t expect you to have all your focus on work when a family member is ill.”

“I appreciate that. Thanks, Margo.”

Wheeler held her gaze for a few seconds longer and looked as though she had more to say. Seeming to think better of it, she simply walked away down the hall. Out the window of her ofÞ ce, Gretchen caught Kylie’s eye for a split second before the EAA looked away.

Kylie.

She’d been nothing but professional and competent. She’d handled things quickly and efÞ ciently while Gretchen was away. She’d briefed Gretchen thoroughly upon her return and it was almost as if Gretchen had never been away. Other executives Gretchen knew would give their right arms for an assistant as valuable as Kylie O’Brien.

Her proÞ ciency was making Gretchen miserable.

Am I insane?
I am. I’m completely mad, aren’t I?

She missed Kylie. She was loath to admit it, but it was the God’s honest truth. She missed the humor, the friendliness, the honesty. She missed the conversations they had in the past, conversations about
real
things, meaningful things. And she missed the physical closeness…

Lord, how she missed that. At least when they were friends, Gretchen could inadvertently brush against Kylie or touch her Þ ngertips as Kylie handed her something. Now even those types of occurrences were taboo…Kylie would certainly see through them and Gretchen knew she couldn’t keep doing the come closer/stay away dance she’d been doing recently. It wasn’t fair to Kylie
.

I have to maintain my professional distance. It’s the ethical thing
to do.
In the next breath, she put her elbows on her desk and dropped her forehead into her hands.
I blew it. I completely blew it.

She’d had a fantastic working relationship with Kylie, but she’d been unable to keep her hands to herself and she’d ruined it. Now everything was different. There was no going forward and they couldn’t go back to the way it had been. It was like they were stuck in some sort of Façade Limbo, like they had to continue on with the motions of their jobs, but they were stuck in time, unable to grow and unable to regress, eternally pretending everything was just Þ ne.

During their brieÞ ng yesterday, Kylie had answered any questions Gretchen had tossed at her, and even answered them with a smile. But the smile hit Gretchen like a slap the Þ rst time she saw it. It didn’t

• 170 •

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

reach Kylie’s eyes. It was almost forced, like it was for show only, and Gretchen hated that this was what she’d reduced the two of them to.

She’d never felt so frustrated in her life.

v

Mick growled aloud and slammed her ofÞ ce phone back into its cradle with viciousness. Yet again, she had almost called Kylie to say hi, ask her to lunch, see what she was doing later. And yet again, she had chickened out at the last minute.

She had never expected that she’d miss Kylie this much, that she’d feel her absence so deeply. It was as if she now had a big hole in her life, in her soul. Kylie had been a part of her for twenty years.

She glowered at the ham sandwich she’d brought for lunch. She knew she should eat it, but she hadn’t been hungry for days. She had no appetite, no energy, and she’d apparently lost the ability to smile as well. Every night this week, she’d gone home, popped open a beer, ß opped onto the couch, and channel surfed until she fell asleep. She was beginning to feel like a slug, her muscles practically begging her to get her ass to the gym.

“Hey, Mick.” One of her staff, Carl, handed her some papers. “Here are the instructions for that mail project for HR next week.” Carl turned to leave, hesitated, and turned back to his boss. “Are you okay?”

Mick knew her feelings had to be blazing from her eyes for a split second before she was able to rein in her annoyance and realize he was just showing concern. “Yeah, I’m Þ ne.”

“You sure? You look kind of…sad lately.”

Though touched by his concern, the last thing Mick wanted to do was get into personal stuff with one of her subordinates. Still, it was nice of him to be worried. “I’m good, Carl. Thanks for asking.”

He studied her for a second or two, then gave a half-smile and walked away.

I am so
not
good. I feel like shit and I want to talk to my best friend
about it. But I can’t because everything is so fucked up.

Her mind wandered back to Saturday night, how incredible Kylie’s body had felt, how soft her lips had been, how surprisingly, tantalizingly aggressive she was. It had been a fantasy-turned-reality. Before she had a chance to revel in the memory, the image changed and Mick saw Kylie’s anger and hurt all over again. The wounded expression on her

• 171 •

GEORGIA BEERS

face was unforgettable. Then there was Mick’s own pain as Kylie told her to get out.

They’d had arguments before; they’d had disagreements; they’d even gone without speaking for a day or two. But nothing like this.

This was bad. Lines had been crossed by both of them. Mick missed Kylie something awful, but the last couple of days had also helped her realize that she needed to let go of certain feelings she had for her. And the only way she could possibly do that was to stay away from her. For days or weeks…maybe even for months. For however long it would take.

She wondered how she would possibly survive.

v

Friday morning brought nothing for Kylie but relief that the week was over. She wanted to spend the weekend with her niece, talking baby talk and watching cartoons and kiddie movies, and not thinking about anything that mattered. Not work. Not Mick. Certainly not Gretchen.

She dropped her sunglasses and her keys into the top drawer of her desk and sat down to check her e-mail.

Her stomach rumbled and she knew she needed to Þ nd some coffee. Breakfast would be better…certainly a smarter choice, but she couldn’t seem to eat lately. She had laughed bitterly the previous evening after she’d made herself some pasta and eaten three whole bites before setting it aside. The only times she had ever lost her hearty Irish appetite, and effortlessly dropped weight, had been when she was going through breakups. Diets never worked for her, only women who broke her heart.

So who did I break up with? Mick or Gretchen?

She chuckled bitterly, maddeningly tired of the whole thing. She wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep until years had gone by and it was safe to emerge again.

She’d called Erin the previous night in the hopes that her sister’s wise outlook on life would make her feel better, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to lay out the full story. She’d told Erin it was difÞ cult to work with Gretchen, given the attraction she had for her, but that she was managing. She said she’d had a Þ ght with Mick, but she was sure it would blow over.

• 172 •

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

Lies and half-truths. They were all she seemed capable of these days.

Kylie sweetened her coffee in the fourth-ß oor kitchen, stirring it absently as she stared out the window.

“Hi, Kylie.” Brandy Charles worked a couple cubicles over from Kylie and they’d been friendly for years.

“Hey, Brandy. How are you?” As Kylie met Brandy’s soft hazel eyes, she realized they hadn’t spent any time together in months.

“I’m great. Hey, I was thinking about you last night.”

“You were? Why?”

“My mom’s breeder said she found a male she really liked and Destiny had a litter about a month ago. There are still a few not spoken for. You immediately came to mind.”

Kylie’s heart warmed and her eyes welled. Brandy had mentioned her mom’s Australian Shepherd breeder when she saw Kylie’s pictures of Rip soon after they Þ rst met.

Seeing the threat of tears, Brandy immediately backpedaled in a panic. “Oh, God. I’m sorry, Ky. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know Rip hasn’t been gone for very long. God, I’m an idiot…”

Kylie laughed, one tear making its way down her cheek. “No. No, Brandy.” She laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You didn’t upset me at all—it’s really sweet that you thought of me, actually. I think I must be PMSing today. My emotions are really close to the surface.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“You don’t look so good,” Brandy said, her worried gaze combing Kylie’s face.

The sympathy was almost too much. Suppressing tears, Kylie fought off the misery wreaking havoc with her sense of herself and surprised Brandy by giving her a big hug. “You know, we haven’t done happy hour in ages. Are you free next Friday?”

Brandy’s eyes lit up. “I think I am.”

“Good. Let’s plan on hitting the Park Bench right after work next week. And bring the number for that breeder, okay?”

“You got it.”

Kylie felt a bit lighter as she returned to her desk, hot coffee in hand. She stroked her Þ ngertips over a picture of Rip, thinking that he was and would always be irreplaceable in her heart, but it might be time to think about another puppy. She recalled how adorable he’d

• 173 •

GEORGIA BEERS

been when she Þ rst got him…a big puffball of soft, silky blackness.

She’d fallen in love with him in six seconds ß at. She looked forward to feeling that again.

Maybe I’ll get a different color this time. The blue merles are so
pretty. Or even the red tricolored ones are cool looking…

She was evicted from her thought process by a hand on her shoulder. Jumping at the intrusion, she looked up into the concerned brown eyes of Margo Wheeler.

“Ms. Wheeler.” Kylie could not contain her surprise. Margo Wheeler didn’t often bother conversing with the support staff aside from the mandatory pleasantries exchanged at celebrations, award ceremonies, and department-wide meetings. Her orders, changes, or requests were normally passed down through the ranks. Kylie sat up straighter and smoothed her hand over her burgundy dress slacks.

“What can I do for you?”

As she looked more closely at Margo’s expression, she knew something was wrong. Her mind quickly rewound the past week or two.
Did I screw something up? Was I rude to any clients? Did we miss
a deadline?
Another, more horrifying thought struck her.
Oh, God, did
somebody see me and Gretchen in her ofÞ ce last week?
She braced herself for impact.

“Gretchen won’t be in today.” Wheeler’s voice was hushed, gentle. “She called me early this morning. Her father passed away last night.”

“
What?
Oh, my God.” Kylie covered her mouth with one hand, letting the words sink in. “But…he was doing okay. Gretchen said everything went Þ ne. I don’t understand.”

Wheeler nodded. “His surgery did go Þ ne, but apparently, there was a blood clot of some sort…I can’t remember the medical term for it.”

“Pulmonary embolism,” Kylie whispered, remembering the doctor’s verdict when her grandmother died in the hospital six years earlier.

“That’s it. Took everybody by surprise, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, poor Gretchen.”

“I know. She asked me to be sure and let all of you know she’d be out for a couple days.”

• 174 •

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

Kylie could only nod as the shock settled over her. Wheeler patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and left without another word.

“Oh, poor Gretchen,” Kylie repeated.

She sat back in her chair and stared off into space. Recalling Gretchen’s indecision about being present the day of her father’s surgery, Kylie sent up a silent prayer of thanks, knowing that if Gretchen had chosen
not
to go and this had happened, she might never forgive herself.

The business day at Emerson continued to buzz all around her, but Kylie was unable to focus on anything but Gretchen, wishing she could be with her during this time, knowing that however tough a person was, they could always use some friendly support during emotionally trying situations. She wondered if Gretchen had somebody to stand with her, and immediately thought of Jori.

Discomfort settled like a rock in the pit of her stomach. She held the phone stifß y, appalled by the thought of talking to someone Gretchen had slept with—even if Jori was a dear friend. Her Þ ngers shook slightly as she dialed.

The voice on the other end was groggy. Kylie said hi and Jori mumbled, “Kylie? What’s up?”