A Heart to Trust

by A. L. Brooks

  Chrissy snorted. “I doubt that. You should hear some of the stories I’ve heard about her from Friday night. For a married woman she doesn’t seem to have any issues with hitting on guys when her husband’s not around.”

  Jenny blinked, her stomach free falling toward her knees. “What?”

  Chrissy looked around. They were in the small park nearest the office, and many people from C&V used it for their lunches. Seemingly satisfied that no one was in earshot, Chrissy leaned in. “She was flirting with some guy from accounts, then some other guy from marketing. They looked real close, if you know what I mean.”

  “But he’s some friend of her husband’s,” Jenny blurted before thinking about what she said.

  “How do you know?”

  “She told me. I chatted to her a little, at the start of the evening, and this guy came over to join us. She introduced him. It seemed, you know, pretty innocent to me.” Why did she feel the need to defend Olivia? And why was she fearful of Chrissy’s reaction by doing so?

  “Well.” Chrissy’s tone was breezy, but her eyes were still cold. “Maybe. But she was definitely all over the guy from accounts.”

  “She was? I mean, you saw that?”

  “No, I heard it, but from a very reliable source. Worse for her, Derek saw it.” Chrissy smirked. “And he was not impressed, believe me.”

  And there she goes, gossiping again. Just like Tamara had pointed out. Jenny shifted in her seat, not liking this side of Chrissy at all. She had a real vendetta against Olivia, but Jenny didn’t know why. And she also seems to know a lot about what Derek thinks. “Hey, that reminds me.” Jenny’s mind worked a mile a minute. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Do you and Derek know each other from somewhere before C&V?”

  Chrissy paused with her soda bottle halfway to her lips. “Why do you ask?”

  “I saw you talking on Friday and you looked more at ease with each other than just boss and employee, you know?”

  Chrissy hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, but it was there. “Oh yeah. We have mutual friends outside of work.” She spoke with a finality that told Jenny the subject was definitely closed.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I think I need to get back.” Chrissy capped her soda, then stood.

  Jenny startled. “Um, sure. I’ll come with you.”

  Wondering about the abrupt end to their conversation—and the way she’d been brushed off when asking about Derek—Jenny followed her colleague back across the park.

  The first Friday in October was gray and gloomy, and it perfectly suited Jenny’s mood as she stared at the latest update to the Catwalk notes that had just landed on their SharePoint site. Derek had shared details of the models who would parade down the runway.

  She rolled her eyes as she looked at the pictures. “Could we be any more sexist, people?”

  Twelve women in the skimpiest of outfits, which showed the most flesh possible, were displayed on her screen. The fact all the models were women was annoying in itself, but it infuriated her that they had to reveal so much of themselves for the titillation of the men.

  “Sorry, did you say something?” Olivia asked.

  Jenny looked up; she hadn’t realized she’d spoken so loudly. “No, nothing. Sorry, just talking to myself.”

  Olivia eyes narrowed, but not in a hard way. She flicked a glance around; they were alone. Both Chrissy and Maxwell were off with other tasks out of the office and wouldn’t be in all day. Olivia cleared her throat. “Did you see the latest file from Derek?”

  Why was Olivia asking? Jenny waited a couple moments before answering. “Looking at it right now.”

  Olivia leaned across her desk; she sat at a diagonal from Jenny, with the way the four desks were configured. “Is that what prompted the comment about the sexism?”

  Her expression was so inscrutable Jenny had no idea what the correct answer should be. If she said yes, would Olivia run off to Derek to tell him how Jenny had criticized the look the models presented? If she said no, Olivia might think she had problems, randomly talking to herself. Probably better that than her having more ammo to make me look bad in front of Derek.

  “No, that was something else.” She held Olivia’s gaze for a moment before forcing herself to look away from those hazel eyes and back at her screen.

  Half an hour later, Jenny was ready for her second coffee of the morning. She wandered over to the coffee station, munching a few M&Ms as she walked. Her mug was almost full when she jumped at the voice beside her.

  “I’d like to talk to you,” Olivia said.

  “Jesus!” Jenny clutched the wall for balance. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  Olivia looked sheepish. “Sorry. I thought you heard me approach.”

  Jenny breathed deeply for a couple moments to quiet her heart rate. “Okay, what do you need to talk about? If it’s about the updates for the limo service, I’m nearly—”

  “No, it’s not that.” Olivia’s voice was quiet, and her close proximity sent an involuntary shiver down Jenny’s back. “Can we meet? Maybe over lunch?”

  Jenny’s heart rate picked up once more. “Us? Lunch?”

  Olivia’s smile was wry. “A working lunch. There’s something I would like to discuss with you, away from the office.”

  Her automatic reaction was to say no, of course. Whatever Olivia’s scheme was, she wanted no part of it. But Olivia didn’t look like she had some evil plan up her sleeve. In fact, she looked nervous.

  “Okay, yeah, I guess we can do that.” Jenny didn’t sound convincing even to her own ears.

  The relief on Olivia’s face was unmistakable.

  They agreed to meet at a sandwich shop Olivia knew of, about three blocks from the office, at around one.

  Olivia didn’t need to explain that they’d leave the office separately.

  Jenny felt like a spy in some crappy nineties movie as she grabbed her purse five minutes after Olivia had headed out and strolled casually toward the elevators. Nothing to see here, folks. Just going for some lunch with a woman I don’t trust but whose eyes make me forget my own name. Ugh.

  Jenny ordered a turkey sandwich and joined Olivia at a small table toward the back of the shop. The place was nothing special; she’d expected fancier, given what she knew of Olivia’s home life.

  “Thank you for meeting me.” Olivia had a small salad in front of her, but it didn’t look as if she’d taken a single bite yet.

  “What’s going on?” Jenny had decided on the walk over she would just get straight to the point. She didn’t want to drag out this awkwardness any more than it had to be.

  Olivia quirked an eyebrow. “You think I’m scheming something, don’t you?”

  There was a sadness in her voice Jenny didn’t want to respond to, even as her body involuntarily leaned an inch or so closer across the table.

  Olivia sighed. “I’m not even going to get started on why you might think that. We can save that for another day.” She tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail on the tabletop. “I just wanted to talk to you about Catwalk. About the concept in general. I know you said your comment on sexism was about something else, but it wasn’t, was it? You saw the pictures of the models.” She snorted. “Or rather, the pictures of all the models’ skin and breasts.”

  Jenny blinked. “You don’t think that’s a good look?”

  “No! And nor do you.” Olivia leaned in. “Please, be honest with me. You’re as disgusted by this as I am, aren’t you?”

  The earnestness and honesty in her expression took Jenny’s breath away. “Yes,” she blurted out before she could overthink it. “Every feminist bone in my body is raging against this crap we have to work on.”

  Olivia grimaced. “Same for me. I nearly vomited looking at those pictures earlier. What the hell is the company doing, buying into that narrative? Haven’t they
learned anything from #MeToo and other crap perpetuated on women?”

  Jenny leaned in farther, relieved to be having this conversation with someone. Even Olivia. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it? There’s so many different ways they could have played this instead of churning out the same old crap.” Jenny hesitated. She’d fantasized about just how different the show would be if she’d been in charge, but if she told Olivia, would she risk her scorn? Or worse, risk her telling Derek and potentially losing her job?

  “What?” Olivia tilted her head. “You’re thinking about something.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. Your left eye narrows when you’re deep in thought.” Olivia’s cheeks pinked a little.

  “It does?”

  Olivia’s smile was shy, and tingles shot all over Jenny’s body. “It does. Just the left one, for some reason.”

  Jenny’s mouth took leave of her brain. “I’d flip it around. The show. Have the sportsmen as the models and have them parading the runway. They’d wear over-the-top designs—no skin and not just regular suits. And they’d be on their own up there, no arm candy. Then the public would vote on who looks best or whatever. It would pull in way more money.”

  Olivia’s eyes widened. “That’s brilliant. Oh my God, that would be such a better show.”

  Their gazes held.

  Jenny’s breathing was a tad too fast, but she couldn’t seem to slow it down.

  Olivia’s eyes had darkened to a rich, golden brown. “You should work up a presentation and show Derek,” she said, breaking their heated impasse.

  “What?” Jenny sat back abruptly. “No way!” Then her heart skipped a beat while her stomach rolled. “Wait, is this your big plan?” She glared at Olivia. “This is how you’re going to get me out of the way, isn’t it? Set me up to look dumb in front of Derek. You didn’t manage it completely with the Excelsior stuff, so now you’re—”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Olivia hissed, her forehead creased. “I’m not planning anything! You’ve got a fantastic idea for—”

  “Oh, yeah, right.” Jenny folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not stupid, Olivia. Sure, I can be a little gullible but I’m not dumb. I know what you did before, and I’m not letting you do it to me again.” She rewrapped her untouched sandwich, then picked it up and rammed it in her bag. She pushed back from the table. “Nice try.” She was furious with herself that she’d nearly fallen into Olivia’s trap.

  Olivia stared at her. She looked distraught. Not even angry, just upset. Oh crap, is she going to cry?

  “Jenny.” Olivia’s voice was thin and trembling. “Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She was good at this; her hurt seemed almost real.

  Jenny steeled herself. “Look, I get that you want this job. I get that you’re ambitious. But taking all my photos and notes from that visit to the hotel and presenting it to Derek, claiming it all as your own work? That sucks. I’m not a doormat, Olivia. Sure, I didn’t say anything about that stunt at the time, but I won’t let you stomp all over me again.”

  Olivia stood, placed her palms flat on the table, and leaned toward Jenny. “I didn’t do anything with the Excelsior photos and notes.” She enunciated each word as if speaking to a child. “I certainly didn’t take them to Derek.” Her voice was rough, tight. “Let me guess, Chrissy told you that?”

  Jenny frowned. “Yes, she did. She’s looking out for me.” Isn’t she? In the face of what seemed to be Olivia’s genuine denial, Jenny’s doubts about Chrissy’s motives when it came to Olivia surfaced once more. But why would Chrissy lie to me about that Excelsior stuff?

  Olivia blew out a loud breath. “Well, a lot of things make a lot more sense now.” She straightened. “I swear to you, I did nothing with your notes from the Excelsior. And your idea to improve this ghastly show is wonderful. I have no ulterior motive in saying that, or suggesting you work up a presentation for Derek. But somehow, I don’t think you’ll ever believe me. You’ve already made up your mind based on the misinformation she’s fed you, that I can’t be trusted.” She grabbed her purse and stepped away from the table. Then she turned back. “You say you’re not a doormat, but that’s exactly how Chrissy is treating you. If only you could see that for yourself.”

  With one last mournful look at Jenny, Olivia left.

  Jenny watched her go, her mind in turmoil. Someone was lying to her. Olivia, who’d been fairly snooty to her from minute one? Or Chrissy, who’d generally fallen over herself to be helpful and welcoming? It seemed clear, didn’t it? And yet… Jenny couldn’t claim to know either woman that well after only knowing them for a couple months. So why was so she willing to accept everything Chrissy said as the gospel truth when she couldn’t do the same for Olivia?

  Chapter 17

  It hurt. Good God, it hurt. Olivia didn’t want it to. She wanted to be able to scrub that entire conversation from her mind and spend the rest of the day in blissful ignorance of how little Jenny trusted her.

  She took her time walking back to the office; she had no meetings for another two hours and, quite frankly, she had no desire to be back at her desk until five minutes before they started. To hell with everything that waited in her inbox.

  “Bloody Chrissy.” The words, spoken aloud, earned her a sideways glance from the suited man she’d ended up walking alongside. Fuck him, she thought. New York was full of people talking to themselves; what difference did one more make?

  Chrissy was now a serious problem, it seemed. One Olivia could no longer ignore. What she needed, however, was solid evidence. Proof. It was obvious from what Jenny said that Chrissy had somehow taken Jenny’s work and presented it as if it were Olivia’s. Or at the very least, complained about that so-called fact to Derek, whose ear she seemed to command. Maybe that was the angle—whatever Chrissy and Derek were doing with each other. She shuddered at the image.

  When she finally arrived back at the office after two, Maxwell was back in his chair opposite Jenny. Olivia was relieved; the last thing she wanted was her and Jenny alone again.

  As soon as Olivia sat, Jenny sprang up, telling Maxwell she had some work uptown. After undocking her laptop and cramming it into her messenger bag, she left without a single glance back at Olivia.

  Sighing, Olivia logged back into her laptop and skimmed over her inbox. Nothing dramatic, which gave her more thinking time. She entered the SharePoint site and searched the directory. It didn’t take long to find Jenny’s original files from that visit to the Excelsior. She whistled in appreciation at Jenny’s extremely well-structured directory, with main folders, subfolders, and sub-subfolders. Such a comparison to Chrissy’s, she discovered a minute later, which were a shambles. How the hell does she find anything in here?

  She wasn’t sure what she was looking for but decided to check every single folder for something, anything, she could use to prove to Jenny it was Chrissy who couldn’t be trusted, not Olivia. While she wanted Jenny to trust her from a professional standpoint, it was more than that. She wanted Jenny to trust her as a person, as the woman whom she’d shared an intimate—albeit misguided—moment with after that party last month.

  Her search of Chrissy’s files turned up nothing out of the ordinary, which unfortunately made sense. If Chrissy was scheming, the last thing she’d do is leave evidence on the SharePoint. I need another coffee. She hit Control-Alt-Delete and typed in her password. Then she froze. What if… “Maxwell.” Her voice was loud in the quiet office.

  He looked up at her, a little wild-eyed.

  She smiled at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He grinned. “It’s okay. What do you need?”

  “Well, I just have a question. You know how when we leave our desks, we’re supposed to lock our laptops to prevent anyone from accessing our data?” When he nodded she continued, speaking quickly befor
e her thoughts ran away with themselves. “If you don’t lock it, how long before it automatically locks?”

  “I think it’s two minutes. Or maybe five. Wait, let me check.” He scrolled and clicked a couple times. “Yep, five minutes.”

  “Is that the same setting for everyone?”

  “I think so, yes. It’s a network setting, controlled by IT, as is the case in most large organizations concerned about potential data breaches. To be honest, five minutes is too long and exposes C&V to all sorts of potential issues.” He pursed his lips. “Do you have a problem?”

  “No, I… Just something… Never mind, it’s not important.” Her face heated as she turned away.

  Not daring to look back up at him again, she focused on her screen, unlocking it and then scrolling back to the SharePoint. She found the document a moment later—the catering schedule that Jenny had screwed up back in July. Although, if Olivia’s theory was correct, it wasn’t Jenny at all.

  She looked at the version history and found the one anomaly in the list where Jenny’s name was alongside the document, not Olivia’s. Then she noted the date and time of the version before switching over to her calendar. They all had access to each other’s calendars, as well as Derek’s, to make planning meetings and collaborations between them simpler. She clicked on the column containing Jenny’s calendar and scrolled back to July. Even though she saw what she expected, she still only just managed to suppress her gasp.

  “Is everything okay, Olivia?” Maxwell asked from close by.

  Olivia jumped in her seat. How on earth did someone so big move so bloody quietly? She looked at him and caught the genuine concern in his eyes. He seemed like a sweet man without a nasty bone in his body. Should she? “You’re friends with Jenny, yes?” she asked.

  He shifted his feet. “Yes. Why?”

  Olivia bit her lip. Here goes nothing. “I think Chrissy deliberately set up that argument a few weeks back. Remember? When I accused Jenny of making unnecessary changes in my catering schedule?”