Too Close to Touch (4 page)

“I believe your EAA has already called about them, am I right?”

Michelle’s tone was just as tight as Gretchen’s.

“You are. Unfortunately, your department hasn’t given her any answers and I’d like to get some. Now, please.”

There was a slight pause. Then Michelle Ramsey spoke, her voice coated with artiÞ cial sweetener. “Well, Ms. Kaiser, I believe it was noted that your boxes were of a…
personal
nature. Therefore, they were set aside last week to get them out of the way, as we had a large shipment of
business
equipment delivered on the same day. Since shipments related to
business
are what my people are paid to handle, I had to prioritize. I’m sure you can understand.”

Gretchen ground her teeth at the patronizing tone. She spoke slowly, as if dealing with a small child. “That was
three days
ago, Ms.

• 27 •

GEORGIA BEERS

Ramsey. One day, I can deal with. Two days begins to piss me off. But three days teeters on the edge of incompetence. Do you think you could have one of your people get them up here before I retire?”

There was enough of a pause this time to let Gretchen know that Michelle Ramsey might also be grinding her teeth, and she felt a tingle of satisfaction at the knowledge. “I’m very sorry, but my people are off the clock at four.”

Gretchen let out a slow, annoyed breath. “I see my department isn’t the only one that needs cleaning up. I can be sure to mention that to Margo Wheeler during our next meeting.”

There was another short silence. This time, it was blatant that Michelle wanted to come through the phone at her. Her voice was clipped and dripping with feigned cheerfulness. “Not to worry, Ms.

Kaiser. I’d be happy to bring your boxes up myself.”

“I’ll expect to see them before I leave today.” She hung up the phone without another word, shocked that the handset wasn’t frozen over with ice. Turning to her computer and the usual overß ow of e-mail, she muttered, “Fuck with me, will you? Bitch.”

Nearly an hour went by before there was a hesitant rap on her door frame. The ofÞ ce had quieted considerably once Þ ve had come and gone, and the knock seemed offensively loud. Gretchen looked up to see Kylie in the doorway.

“Sorry to interrupt.” She seemed a little uncomfortable. “Your boxes are here.”

“It’s about goddamn time.” Gretchen stood up as the end of a box on a handcart was wheeled into view, followed by the other two boxes stacked on top of it, followed by Michelle Ramsey, who was pushing it all.

Oh, shit
.

Gretchen was momentarily speechless and wondered if the shipping manager felt the same way.

Kylie looked from one woman to the other and back, obviously confused by the discomfort in the room and assuming it had to do with the shipment. “Um…Gretchen Kaiser, this is Mick Ramsey. She runs our shipping and receiving department. Mick, Gretchen is our new regional sales manager.”

“Oh,” Mick said hesitantly, smiling with recognition. “
You’re
the new RSM.”

• 28 •

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

Gretchen recovered quickly and cleared her throat. “Right there in the corner is Þ ne.” She kept her voice cool, determined to remain on top despite the fact that Mick’s presence took up so much of the room.

She swallowed when she saw Mick’s smile dim several watts and her green eyes harden. Pulling her own eyes away, Gretchen sat down and went back to working on her computer, effectively dismissing both Mick and Kylie. When she heard the wheels on the handcart squeak away down the hall, she let out a quietly relieved breath. Several minutes went by before a small cough called her attention away from her monitor. She snapped her head around to Þ nd Kylie still standing in her ofÞ ce.

Gretchen raised an aggravated eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Um…do you need anything else from me before I pack up for the night?”

Gretchen glanced at the clock in the corner of her computer monitor. It was going on six. “No. You go on home.” She went back to reading her e-mail.

Kylie hesitated. “Are you all right?”

“I’m Þ ne.” She didn’t look up from her work. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay. Have a good night.”

Gretchen heard Kylie getting her things together, the sound of her footsteps clicking down the hall. She inhaled with effort, and exhaled slowly.
One day
, she thought.
I’ve been here for exactly one day and
I’ve already had to wear my bitch hat. That’s got to be a record.

• 29 •

• 30 •

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

CHAPTER THREE

So that’s how it’s going to be, huh? Goddamn fucking bitch.”

Mick couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so pissed off. Or so disappointed. The Gretchen she’d met at the Widow on Saturday and the Gretchen she’d met on the fourth ß oor half an hour ago certainly looked like the same person, but wow…if she didn’t know better, she’d think the woman had a split personality.

“Goddamn fucking bitch,” she muttered again as she maneuvered her SUV along the expressway. The late April weather held hints of spring, but the lawns were brown and the roads were dirty, perfectly suiting Mick’s mood. “Who the hell does she think she is?”

She picked up her cell phone and pushed two buttons, speed-dialing the same number she called daily, sometimes half a dozen times.

Kylie picked up after half a ring. “Hey.”

“What the fuck is the matter with your new boss, Ky?”

Kylie sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mick. I don’t know her yet.”

“Well, Jesus Christ. Could she be more of a bitch?”

“I guess she just wanted her stuff.”

Mick bit back a snide comment, not wanting to transfer her anger at Gretchen onto her best friend. “Then she shouldn’t have shipped her personal shit to work, God damn it.”

“I know.”

“My responsibility is the stuff that directly affects Emerson.”

“I know.”

“Gretchen Fucking Kaiser’s ofÞ ce trinkets do not fall into that category.”

• 31 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“I know.”

“She didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

“I know.”

“It’s hard for me to stay on a rampage when all you keep saying is ‘I know.’”

“I know.”

Mick didn’t want to smile, but she couldn’t help it. Kylie was always able to defuse her anger just by letting her vent. It was one of the best aspects of their friendship: how well they knew one another.

Mick sighed. “She just really pissed me off.”

“How come?”

“What do you mean, ‘how come?’ You were there.”

“Yeah, but you’ve had people be less than courteous with you before and you usually don’t give a crap. Why did Gretchen get under your skin so badly? She really just told you where to put the boxes. I mean, she could have been friendlier, but I’ve seen you treated worse than that and it didn’t faze you.”

Mick hesitated, surprised by the quick spurt of indignation she felt at Kylie defending Gretchen. She hadn’t planned on telling Kylie about Saturday night; she was a Þ rm believer in not outing people who were obviously trying to stay in the closet, whether or not she agreed with them. But she was not about to sit by and let Kylie think she’d overreacted.

“I went to the Widow Saturday night.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So did your boss.”

“What?” The disbelief was clear in Kylie’s voice.

“You heard me. Apparently, it was her birthday, so we bought her a lot of drinks. And she doesn’t drink the cheap stuff.”

“Gretchen was at the Black Widow?”

“That’s what I said. Don’t let the panty hose and heels fool you.

She’s as gay as I am. She was inches from picking up Christy when I left.”

“Wow. I’m…wow.”

Mick felt annoyance prickling the back of her neck, so she honked at a minivan that cut in front of her. “Fucking soccer moms,” she grumbled.

“I work for a lesbian?” Kylie asked.

“Apparently.” Mick rolled her eyes at the awe in Kylie’s tone.

• 32 •

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

“I’ve never worked for a lesbian before.”

“Yeah, well she’s a bitchy lesbian, so maybe it’s not such a good thing.”

“Come on, Mick. It was her Þ rst day. She was probably stressed out. She doesn’t know yet how conservative the company might be so she’s decided to keep quiet about her sexual preferences, and then you come strolling in. You, a person who knows what her sexual preferences are. And you, a person who works for the same company she does. She probably panicked, that’s all.”

“What the hell for?”

“Some people don’t like their sexuality to be common knowledge.

Not everybody wants it broadcast all over the place. Some people keep that stuff private.”

“Which is just ridiculous.”

Kylie tried to keep her sigh silent, but was sure Mick picked up on it. They’d had this same discussion countless times.

“It’s ridiculous to you.” Kylie sounded a little defensive. “But not everybody is as comfortable in their own skin as you are.”

Kylie herself wasn’t completely out at work. Mick didn’t consider her closeted, but she wasn’t terribly free with the information, as Mick was. She often told Mick she wished she had half the courage Mick did when it came to the subject.

“Maybe so. I still don’t like her.”

Kylie let out a frustrated breath, a sign that she knew she wasn’t changing Mick’s mind anytime soon. “Okay.”

Mick mentally gave herself a point and decided to change the subject. They’d talk about it another day, she knew. “What’s for dinner?”

If Kylie was startled by the shifting of gears, she didn’t sound it.

“I think my mom’s making stew tonight. I’m going to go over there for a bit. Want to come?”

Mick knew the truth. Kylie didn’t want to stay home much these days…not since she’d lost Rip, her beloved Australian Shepherd. He’d been gone for nearly a month, but Kylie still struggled. Mick wished there was something she could do for her friend, and truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to join Kylie at her mother’s for dinner, but she was still smarting over the events of the afternoon.

“Nah. I need to get to the gym.”

“Oh, come on. Your muscles can take one day off, can’t they?”

• 33 •

GEORGIA BEERS

“Yeah, they can, but there’s a new aerobics instructor I’ve been meaning to chat up.”

“And by ‘chat up,’ you mean ‘feel up.’”

“That, too.”

“You’re a pig.” Kylie laughed.

“Tell that gorgeous mother of yours I said hello.”

“I will. She’ll be sorry she missed you.”

“Hey, when do you want to do your kitchen ß oor?”

“Maybe next weekend. Let me see what I’ve got going on.”

“Let me know. I’ll catch you later, Ky.”

They disconnected just as Mick pulled into her own driveway.

She grabbed the mail out of the mailbox and headed straight to the refrigerator. Popping open a beer, she sifted through the pile of junk and bills, willing her anger to relinquish its hold on her psyche. She ß opped onto the couch, snatched up the remote, and tuned the TV to a rerun of
Friends
, forcing thoughts of Gretchen Kaiser and her condescending expression out of her mind.

Instead, she thought about Kylie. Mick was already looking forward to next weekend.

v

Gretchen is a lesbian.

Kylie shook her head, smiling, not sure why she had such a hard time absorbing the fact. Maybe it was simply the way it would have changed how she’d looked at Gretchen in the bathroom that morning.

It was one thing to look at an attractive woman and appreciate her appearance while assuming she was straight. It was quite another to look at her and
know
she might somehow be attainable. Not that Kylie would ever make a move like that…and certainly not on her boss. She’d never picked up a stranger based solely on her looks, but she knew it was done—Mick did it all the time.

Kylie’s mind tossed her a quick visual. Her, pushing Gretchen against the wall of the bathroom, pressing their lips together in a blistering kiss while plunging her hands beneath the black suit jacket, searching for treasures inside and trying her best to rumple that calm, cool exterior.

“Jesus, O’Brien, cut it out,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled into her parents’ driveway. Shaking her head, she strolled into the

• 34 •

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

garage and reached for the door to the kitchen. There, she paused and whined softly, “I need to get laid.”

The O’Brien kitchen smelled divine, as usual. Freshly baking rolls wafted the scents of home through the air and Kylie breathed deeply the aroma of her childhood. The kitchen was a cheery yellow even in the approaching twilight. Knickknacks and plants took up every open space. She often marveled at how the room seemed smaller now than it had when she was a kid; funny how that happened.

“Mom?” she called as she stopped and lifted the lid off the enormous pot simmering on the stove. Using the giant spoon dripping onto the spoon rest, she scooped up a small amount of the stew and blew on it. She tasted a small dab, letting the ß avors of beef and vegetables coat her tongue. She closed her eyes, loving the memories such tastes and smells could generate for her.

“What do you think?” Caroline O’Brien bustled into the room just as she bustled everywhere, a dishtowel draped over her right shoulder.

Her hair had once been a lush blond, but was now more of a brassy blond from a bottle since she refused to go gray. It curled gently just over her shoulders, skimming the neckline of her light blue sweater.

She still somehow looked shapely in jeans, and her ever-present slip-ons were starting to look worn.

Kylie made a mental note to get her a new pair for Mother’s Day.

Caroline was smaller than Kylie, but it was easy to tell how attractive she’d been in her twenties. She still was, even in her sixties. The two of them shared the same startlingly blue eyes; Kylie was the only child who’d inherited them.