“Are you trying to make me cause a future for her that really sucks?”
“Get down off the cross, honey. Someone needs the wood.”
Robin started and turned her head. Magnolia was seated on the arm of the sofa, dressed in a dark blue form-fitting gown and what looked like a sapphire necklace. She wore a matching ring on her right hand, and it sparkled against the white of her glove. Her hair was done up like it had been the first time Robin had met her.
“Sugar, if you’re attracted to someone, you try to spend time with them. And the Lady is nothing if not versed in the laws of attraction.” She gave Robin a dazzling smile.
“But the future I saw—”
“Is one of infinite possibilities,” Magnolia said. “And we can have a hand in each, according to the decisions we make. It’s all about what’s in here, sweetie.” Magnolia placed her hand in a graceful motion over her heart. “Examine your intentions.” She faded.
“Wait,” Robin said, but Magnolia was gone. So was Decker. When, exactly, had this happened, that she’d allowed herself an attraction to her past? Or rather, a recognition of it? She’d been head over heels in love with Jill when they were together. The kind of love that sometimes drives the young to passionate declarations of forever and makes them hold on maybe a little too desperately because they haven’t discovered the wisdom that age brings. She remembered how that felt with Jill back then. She wasn’t sure what head over heels was like at this age, but she did know what she was feeling for Jill was not just attraction. It was connection and comfort and, if she was being honest with herself, exciting and deep and delicious.
Robin was way past her youth, shaped by a cynicism born of grief and loss. Since Jill, there’d only been one other woman who came close to getting past her barriers but she’d left a few years back. Robin realized now that she’d probably helped drive her away. Nobody but Jill had ever gotten past her armor, which Robin understood now that she had already been forging in college. Jill had sensed that. She’d seen in Robin not the gothy, punky persona she presented but the fragile artist who craved a sense of security and enough trust to be young rather than the bearer of responsibilities way beyond her years. Little wonder that Jill felt so familiar to her now.
Her phone signaled another text message—Caroline, with an affirmative. It should have made her feel better. It didn’t. Why was the Bureau encouraging a hook-up with Jill? Was it some kind of test? She turned the sound of her phone off, set it on the coffee table, and opened her office door. Laura looked up from her monitor.
“Got a minute?” Robin asked.
Without a word, Laura followed her into her office. Robin shut the door behind them and gave her the rundown of her meeting with Frost. “I’ve probably got this week,” she finished. “Maybe a couple days more, but that’s doubtful. I’m pretty sure I pissed him off even more today.” She moved to her conference table and sat down.
Laura took a chair next to her, and smiled, though Robin saw sadness in her eyes.
“Don’t worry. I’m working on an angle for you. I’m not going to leave you alone in the shark tank.”
“A month ago I wouldn’t have believed that you’d try to help me,” Laura said. “Actually, you wouldn’t even be talking to me about this.”
“You’re right.” Robin leaned back and stretched her legs out. “So, about the shark tank.”
“Don’t worry about me. I have resources, too.”
Robin grinned. “So with both of us working on it, it’ll happen.”
“What about you?”
“I have a few resources my own self.”
“But where will you go?”
“I don’t really know. I’m not quite sure what I want to do next.” It was scary, not having a plan. But also liberating. She had a little bit of time to decide, and she’d been working her networks already, so something was bound to shake out, even if it was a contract position or something she could do for a year or two. She could use that time to think a bit more about where she might want to go.
“A month ago, I wouldn’t have told you this—”
“Because I was a major jerk,” Robin finished for her. She sat up straight.
Laura laughed. “Well, yes. But since you seem to be on the road to recovery, I’ll let you know that you have a really excellent head for business. You’re a natural leader and when you act like yourself—like you are now—people really respond to you. That’s the problem with a lot of corporate leadership. Arrogance. It doesn’t instill loyalty or respect. People don’t want to work for people like that.”
“So how come you’ve stayed this long?”
“It hasn’t even been eighteen months.”
“I have an idea as to how big a jerk I can be.”
“I do, too. But I saw something underneath it, and I know how hard it is for women to make it as far as you did in this world. I admire that about you, and I could tell you knew what you were doing. After eighteen months, I’m right. You do know. And it scares Frost. That’s what happens in places like this. Somebody who’s secure would let you do what you do best and offer you opportunities to branch the company out. But he’s not. And you have to be careful in environments like this. Insecurity can be contagious.”
Robin studied the rings she’d taken to wearing. “Wise words. And would you like something to drink? I’ve got some water and iced tea in the fridge.” She gestured at the mini-fridge next to her couch.
“I’ve got something at my desk.” Laura stood. “But thanks. Besides, you have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
Robin groaned, and Laura laughed as she left. After she’d shut the door, Robin got up and went to her couch. She sat down and checked her personal cell. Another text message from Jill, and Robin tried to ignore the giddiness that ran up her spine, but she couldn’t entirely.
Thank YOU for spending time with me yesterday. And you have no idea how much of a tease I’ve become.
She’d included a winking emoji, and Robin stared at the message, then reread it a few more times. Heat spread through her chest, then her thighs. Was Jill flirting with her? It sure felt like it. And oh, God it felt good. Better than good. Shit.
Hmm. I think I can guess, she texted back. Oh, Jesus. She was flirting back. And enjoying it. More than enjoying it.
This was probably bad. And maybe inappropriate. She read Jill’s previous text again. Wasn’t it? It was just some harmless flirting with an ex. Who Robin had been totally in love with even after Jill dumped her. Oh, God.
Her phone lit up with another text from Jill. We’ll see. Back to more art. Looking forward to tomorrow.
Same here. And I have yet another meeting. Later. Robin hit send and sank onto her couch. Could she still close this box? Pandora hadn’t been able to. She leaned back and sighed. Because it was probably not a good idea to get hung up on an ex.
Robin closed her eyes and saw Jill that night after Lady Magnolia had dropped her onto the sidewalk right next to her. So different than she’d been in college, but also so much more comfortable with herself. Maybe Robin had never lost her feelings for Jill.
She set her phone on the arm of the couch and reached for her laptop. Weird. The screensaver hadn’t turned on, instead it displayed a web page Robin didn’t remember loading. As she studied it, she knew for sure she hadn’t brought the site up, because she would have remembered if she had. The page advertised a job opening as the director of an arts foundation in Seattle. What the hell? Robin stared at it. Was she losing her memory? Or her mind? Because that should probably have happened already, and she should be waking up soon in a drab room with an iron-frame bed and a medical tag on her wrist. And that hadn’t happened. Which meant that the past two weeks were for real, and there were things in the world that she didn’t understand.
“Or it is the Matrix,” she muttered as she read the job description. It was a really
good fit for her. The foundation wanted someone with experience in management, business, and an eye for attracting new donors and developing funding partnerships. The application deadline was coming up in the next few days. Not a problem. She’d already updated her résumé, so all she needed was a cover letter, and she was pretty good at those.
A chime sounded on her business phone, alerting her to an appointment. The meeting. Robin grabbed her tablet, phone, and scratch pad and stepped out of her office and paused at Laura’s desk.
“Did anybody go into my office while I was with Frost this morning?”
Laura looked up at her, puzzled. “No. I was here the whole time. Why?”
“No reason.” She adjusted the items she carried and walked toward the other side of the building, nodding and smiling at various people as she passed them. This area outside her office was a typical open space like the lobby of a hotel, tastefully furnished and with a coffee station along the far wall. Robin didn’t like the coffee, so she usually bought her own downstairs. As she passed it, she slowed down. A familiar figure was stirring her coffee with one of the provided plastic stir sticks. Robin stopped, staring.
“Seattle’s more your speed, don’t you think?” Decker gave her a lopsided smile and raised the Styrofoam coffee cup to her lips. Robin approached, making sure nobody was paying attention to her.
“Jill’s in Seattle,” Robin said, keeping her voice low. She got herself a cup of coffee, because if nobody else could see Decker, Robin didn’t want people to wonder what she was doing, standing over here chatting to the air.
“That’s totally a perk.”
“What—” she started to say when Hodges interrupted her.
“Hey, thanks for the figures you sent out this morning. Appreciate it.”
She jerked her attention to him. “Sure. No problem.” She turned back to Decker, but she was gone, again.
“You going to the meeting?” he asked as he fixed himself a cup of coffee.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” she said dryly. Robin stood for a few moments, studying all the people she saw moving around or standing and talking. No Decker. Not that Robin was surprised.
Please don’t let this mean I’m nuts. On the other hand, if this was what going nuts was like, it wasn’t so bad. Maybe she was like that character in that Russell Crowe movie, A Beautiful Mind. The one where he kept seeing and interacting with people who weren’t there.
“You okay?”
Robin glanced at Hodges and said, “Yeah. Thought I saw someone I needed to talk to.” Should she go to a doctor and get evaluated? There had to be a test for this sort of thing. But if she were going crazy, why was all the stuff currently happening to her kind of good? Even her attraction to Jill wasn’t a bad thing. It felt good, though Robin still wasn’t sure what to do with that. Was she even ready to get involved with someone who had the potential for real emotional engagement? Plus, she had all these other things going on, and she had to think about what to do in terms of employment, and that included the art foundation.
Which was in Seattle.
Close to Jill.
Robin entered the conference room with Hodges and took a seat at the end of the table. Brady wasn’t normally in this meeting, which was some relief, but as she settled into her chair and arranged her materials in front of her, she realized that she wouldn’t have cared if he was. Now she had to use her epiphanies for good, and that was exactly what she intended to do. But right now, she had to get through this meeting. She pulled her scratchpad close and started drawing.
Decker entered Agent Tolson’s office. Usually the case manager was at her desk, going through files or checking the progress of various field agents. Right now, however, she stood staring out the window at the city.
“Ma’am,” Decker said, though she knew Tolson was well aware of her presence.
“And how is Ms. Preston?” Tolson asked without turning from the window. She always dressed just shy of 1940s Hollywood glamorous. Her suits were cut in such a way to keep her on the professional side, but Decker could totally picture her as a character in a Cary Grant movie. Decker herself preferred a more casual style, but she appreciated that Tolson could pull the look off.
“Busy. Pretty sure she’ll be sending a résumé out soon. Probably tonight.”
Tolson turned from the window and regarded Decker the way she always did—a mixture of amusement and patience in her eyes. “Excellent. This remains under special ops, you understand.”
“Yes, ma’am.” No formal reports, no recordings, though Tolson sometimes requested a live feed.
“It’s why I put you, Magnolia, and Mr. Rampus on this assignment.”
“I figured.” Decker smiled. Tolson sometimes picked cases for personal reasons. Clearly, this was one of them. The Bureau was strict with its epiphany schedules—Christmas only—but sometimes the case managers would give a little more juice to the epiphanies after the fact, if they felt the subject warranted it. Decker could count on one hand the number of times Tolson had special op’ed epiphanies after Christmas, but when she did, it was usually to ensure a particular outcome.
“Sometimes discordant notes need to be tuned,” Tolson said, as if she’d read Decker’s mind. “You understand, of course, that it is imperative that we keep Ms. Chen and Ms. Preston on their merging paths.”
“Yes, ma’am. But I think after Christmas Future, Preston’s not that amped about starting anything up with Chen.”
“We’re working on convincing her otherwise.”
Decker nodded, hoping that Preston got it together. Decker kind of liked her, even though she’d been sort of snotty. Underneath that, Preston was probably fun to hang out with. Decker figured that whatever she sensed in Preston, Tolson did, too, or she wouldn’t have launched a special op. “Anything else?”
“Not at the moment. Thank you.” Tolson smiled, and it lit her features up. Totally a forties movie star look.
Decker nodded and moved to the door.
“Oh, I did think that was a nice touch with the coffee today,” Tolson added.
Decker stopped at the door. “Preston seems to be someone who needs a few reminders now and again. And I think she might consider sightings a support system, in a strange way.”
“I agree.” Tolson returned to staring out the window, and not for the first time, Decker wondered who she’d been before she joined the Bureau. “Thank you again,” Tolson said.
Decker closed the door quietly behind her.
CHAPTER 13
“What new and exciting things do I have to worry about today?” Robin paused at Laura’s desk and handed her a large cup of coffee from the café across the street, one of her fave coffee stops.
Laura raised her eyebrows in surprise, but she smiled, too. “No calls from Mr. Frost.”
“Thank God.”
“No meetings.”
“The Lord is indeed smiling upon us.”
Laura laughed.
“Oh, here.” Robin pulled a sticky note out of her pocket with a phone number on it. She placed it next to Laura’s keyboard.
“And whose phone number is this?”
“Daniel S. Pruitt, senior board member of Frost Enterprises.”
Laura looked at it again, then up at Robin, clearly confused.
“He’s in need of a really good personal assistant, and he would, and I quote, ‘very much like to formally meet you and chat with you a bit.’ I told him he could schedule you any time today or after tomorrow—holiday, after all—to do just that. So when you call, Ms. Brewster will probably answer. She’s normally the administrative overseer for Pruitt’s main office, but she’s handling possible hires for him, too. Tell her who you are, and she’ll get that set up.”
Laura’s smile widened. “Thank you. But what did you tell him about why I might be interested in such a position? Won’t he wonder why
you’re giving up such a wonderful assistant?”
Robin smiled. “Because he knows that Frost wants to close my position. There’s no way Frost made that decision without consulting the board. Pruitt probably thinks I’ll take the China transfer, and that I can’t take you with me. But that’s not something he’ll discuss with me while it’s a decision still in the making. So don’t thank me yet. Wait until he offers you a job. And don’t let him lowball you.”
Laura laughed. “I can handle it,” she said in a way that told Robin that, yes, she definitely could.
“Great. Just let me know when he schedules you for the chat so I don’t freak out because you’re not here.” Robin moved toward her office door but turned back to Laura before she went in. “Oh, and if you don’t have anything on your plate this afternoon besides babysitting me, go ahead and leave. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all.”
“Can I say that I really like this version of you?”
“Yes. And I expect that you won’t forget me when you move on to greater things.”
“Not a chance.” Laura’s desk phone range and Robin left her to it, enjoying how it felt to not be a dick. She was learning that it didn’t make her vulnerable. Rather, it made her feel stronger, somehow, and more grounded.
She settled herself onto her couch, shoes off, feet up, laptop propped on her knees, and went through emails. The arts foundation in Seattle had sent her a benign reply thanking her for submitting her materials for consideration for the job of director. Robin had sent them in last night, after she wrote a kickass cover letter. She’d been inspired, dancing around her apartment to New Order between paragraphs, fueled by a sense of adventure she hadn’t felt in years.
Decker had probably left that web page on her computer. She hoped so, because thinking that she didn’t remember doing it was a little scary. Instead, she entertained the idea that the Bureau was going guardian angel with her. It did still creep her out a bit—she still couldn’t completely scrub the image of Krampus out of her head—but going crazy wasn’t supposed to be like this, she was pretty sure, so she’d just keep traveling this epiphany road, see where it led.
The Bureau of Holiday Affairs Page 18
