This was heaven, I thought. I was living—mostly, anyway—in a state of joyful peace. I had everything I could ever want in life, though at times when Pete looked at me a certain way—much the way he had tonight—it made me nervous. How long would this last?
My love for him was the forever kind, and I believed—no, I knew—he felt the same. But a vast world lay before us; a future that, once married, might lead us down a very different path. And what if he tired of me? What if I lost whatever it was that caused that beautiful, stupid smile to spread across his face whenever he saw me. I’d only been back in North Carolina for four short months, and we’d only been engaged a matter of days. I glanced at the shockingly magnificent ring on my finger. What if, one day, I had to give it back? What if I fucked all this perfectness up?
When he returned with the large, sugar coma-inducing slab, he found me curled on my side.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Setting a new speed record, he wrapped me in his protective cage. “Are ya not feelin’ well?”
“I’m…” I sighed mightily. “Will you always love me?”
His chuckle shook the bed. “Will I always love you?” He rolled towards me again and kissed my forehead and then nose. “My love for you would take ten lifetimes to use up—twenty! I’ll love you for all eternity.”
“What if you don’t? What if, after we’re married, you realize I’m dull and boring?”
He threw his head back on the pillow and laughed without restraint, eventually wiping tears from his eyes. “Could never happen. You’re the most fascinating creature I’ve ever met. There’s nothin’ in this world you could do to make me stop lovin’ you.”
“What if I get fat?”
“I’ll have even more of you to love.”
“What if I get old and wrinkled?”
“You’ll still be beautiful.”
I sat up abruptly. “What if I cheat on you?!”
“I’ll kill him, but I’ll still love you.”
“What if you want children someday and I don’t?”
He stopped laughing and ran his fingers up my arm, finally resting his palm on my neck. Quiet for a moment, his eyes sharp and serious, he whispered, “Then we won’t have any.”
“What if I turn into a frog?” I said to lighten the mood.
His smile returned. “Then I’ll bring ya flies. Come here, Susie-Q. What’s got ya troubled?”
“I don’t know. I’m just afraid. Things were perfect, and now…well, now—” I held up my ring, the moonlight gleaming off its many facets—“it’s just gotten really grown-up all of a sudden.”
“Did I move too soon?”
“No.”
He hesitated for a moment, and then asked, “Do ya want to get un-engaged?”
I kissed his chest. “No.”
Visibly relaxing, he said, “I mean this in a serious and very grown-up way. I love you, and I want ya beside me forever.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what.”
The silence stretched until sleep nearly overtook me.
“Do ya really not want children?” he whispered.
Though the knot in my stomach was movie screen-sized, I willed myself into the very image of sleep, making what I hoped passed for a noncommittal sound. I’d just found the one thing that might drive a wedge between us.
2
Prehistoric Poop
“Would you like to know what she said?” I ranted, wearing circles into the new carpet.
Pete and I had just returned from a weekend visit to my mother’s house. And unfortunately for her, Mona, still bathing in the golden aura of honeymoon bliss, had returned to a seething me.
She paled. “What?”
“I said, ‘Mom, Pete and I are engaged!’ Here I am all excited and exuberant and glowing, and she looks at me with this terrified expression and asks, ‘Are you pregnant?’ Pregnant?! Can you believe that crap? Like I would ever get pregnant. Like I would even consider getting married just to cover it up. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”
In truth, though, I did get it. Her pregnancy had been the catalyst for a long and painful marriage that had siphoned the joy from her being and eventually planted an acorn of male mistrust in my emotional soil that had grown so wide and sturdy it now fully shaded me.
“Well, maybe she’s just ready to be a grandma. My mamma started droppin’ hints the day we got engaged. Makes me awfully sad.”
“You’ve barely been married two weeks. You don’t actually want to be pregnant already, do you?” The concept defied wisdom, but then I thought, yes, she probably did. She was forged to be a mother, and though it was selfish as hell, my next thought was who on earth could I ever hire to replace her? The district could literally not function without her.
“I suppose I wouldn’t mind if it happened. Jimbo’s another story, though.” She sighed helplessly. “I understand his concern and all, but I believe things happen for a reason—even bad things—and we’ll be fine. But—and I don’t wish ill on anyone in the world—maybe there was a reason the Lord took his little boy back so soon.”
According to well-informed sources, Jimbo’s estranged wife had given birth to a son who resembled him in every way. The child hadn’t lived very long due to a congenital heart defect. That kind of trauma could destroy anyone’s life, and it didn’t surprise me in the least that he was terrified to try again.
“Some things defy reason,” I murmured, shivering.
I felt a great pang of sadness, not only for Jimbo but also for Pete, who had been off fully enjoying college life at the time. Though he and his cousin couldn’t be tighter if they were identical twins, he’d been unaware of fate’s lightning strike until he received the call everyone dreads. It was the first and only speeding ticket he’d ever gotten. Though there was no reason to talk about such things, I knew Pete still blamed himself for not being omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent in Jimbo’s life. I believe that that event had ushered Pete into adulthood sooner than completely necessary.
“Well, when the Lord wants us pregnant, that’s when He’ll make it so,” she said. “And I don’t think either of us’ll have much say in the matter. Now, what did you say to your mamma?”
She sank into one of my brand-new, cushy office chairs, and I laid it out for her in full surround sound.
“I’m surprised Polly didn’t wash your mouth out with soap,” she giggled.
“And you know what else?” I continued. “Pete thought it was a perfectly legitimate question!”
Marley Sprite, my secretary, knocked on the door frame. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but when’s a good time for us to go over your calendar?”
Still snorting with mirth, Mona stood. “I’ve got to get back to work. Lunch?”
“Of course. Come on in, Marley.”
Furiously scribbling, she lowered herself into Mona’s vacated seat. “I just put lunch with Mrs. Skarren on your schedule. You have an opening at noon and another at one-thirty. Which is better for you?”
I smirked. I never thought I’d see the day when I had to schedule lunches with my best friend.
“Noon will be just fine.”
She smiled brilliantly, and I felt the genuine desire to pat her on the head. “Okay, I’ll confirm it with her. Do you need me to make reservations somewhere?”
Since we were eating in the break room, and I was pretty sure they didn’t take reservations, mostly because there was no “they”, I replied, “No, we’ll manage.”
“Now, at two-thirty…”
Marley, a sweet young girl as green as a pine sapling in a mature forest, had recently matriculated from a small community college outside Raleigh. In an attempt to compensate for her freshman status, she behaved as professionally as humanly possible, even in the face of Gene Daniel’s weekly overtures. Gene, my in-house sales rep and the bane of my existence, even brought her flowers on Administrative Professionals’ Day—a bogus holiday, much like Sweetest Day, ma
sterminded by the chocolate, flower, and greeting card industries. Flippin’ brilliant, I might add. Not yet twenty-one, I regularly reminded him that she was still technically jailbait, and I regularly reminded her that he was an idiot.
♥
As August melted into September—and I mean that literally—traffic in Eastern North Carolina eased to a trickle. The tourists had fled, and I was about to as well. Nearly packed for Quarterlies, INTech’s presentation-a-thon, I was my usual frantic self, stomping around like a fire-breathing dragon, demanding last-minute data, scaring my underlings to death.
“Marley, is Reeves in the office?” I yelled down the hall. I didn’t exactly work on the same level of formality here as I had in my Ohio office.
“I believe he’s over at Hatteras Construction,” she said, scuttling in.
“Again?”
“Karly’s needed a bunch of help lately.” Though her giggle was nearly as sweet—or annoying, depending—as Mona’s, it sounded forced and oddly metallic today.
Mike Heron, owner of Hatteras Construction and father of the lovely fair-haired Karly, would skin him alive if there was something going on between the two of them. With rust-colored hair and dimples as deep as Anita’s, Reeves Crump was a good-looking guy. He was also nearly ten years older than Karly. I shook my head. No, surely he wasn’t that stupid. Of course, he is a man…
I’d assigned Reeves an office in the opposite wing of the building. Since it was now his job to browbeat the sales team rather than mine, he needed a decently appointed space. I smiled, thinking what a good decision I’d made promoting him…and in hiring Marley as well.
“You’re quitting?!” Marley’s letter of resignation wilted lifelessly as she handed it to me some thirty minutes later. “You’ve barely been here four months. Why are you quitting?”
“I’ve loved it and all, but my boyfriend just got a job in Nashville, and well, Havelock is just too far away. I hear it’s real hard to make long distance relationships last. I’ve really loved workin’ for you, Miss Wade. I think you’re awfully nice.”
If anyone knew about the difficulties—or rather, the impossibilities of long distance relationships, it was me. “I guess I’m quittin’ INTech, too,” she said, looking down at her feet. “There weren’t any openings in Tennessee, or even in Kentucky, though that’d be a bit of a drive.” She sighed dejectedly. “This was kinda my big break. But I guess you have to make sacrifices for love.”
I glanced out my window at the mosquito-infested swampland I now called home. “That you do… Listen, I need you for at least two more weeks. Can you give me that much time?”
“Well, yeah. I could do that. I haven’t started sendin’ out resumes yet. Comsync’s big there. I’m hopin’ they’ll have an opening.”
“No! Marley, you do not want to work for that company. Trust me.” They had treated me, and honestly, everyone I’d known, very badly when I’d interviewed with them during my senior year in college. They’d offered me nothing in exchange for a body’s worth of blood. Their reputation hadn’t changed, and quite frankly, I still held a grudge.
It was my turn to sigh. Another thing added to my overflowing plate. “Could you contact Reeves? I want to see him once more before I leave.”
“Sure thing, Miss Wade.”
As the vapor trail of her sugary perfume dissipated, I scrolled down the company directory until I found the name I was looking for. “Hi, Chuck! Susan Wade here. You don’t happen to need a really good secretary, do you?”
♥
Budget concerns had not been a problem in my last job, but after returning to North Carolina, I discovered its budget was in complete disarray. Bottom line: we were fairly strapped for cash.
Though savagely underqualified, I’d hired Marley because she was cheap and readily available. Unfortunately, that would have to be my deciding factor once again.
I began typing the job description for HR.
Position: Minion Executive Administrative Assistant
Qualifications: No jail time 1-3 years prior experience
Category rating: Cheap 2-3
Location: Hell’s doorstep NC District Headquarters
Reports Directly to: A blithering, but somewhat competent psychopath District Manager
I had expected little from this posting, but I had three resumes in hand before even boarding the plane. I set up interviews in Philly with each and crossed my fingers.
During these five tumultuous and exhausting days of company-wide meetings, events went amazingly well, exploded into flames, or bored the hell out of everyone. Though I’d lived all three scenarios, I crossed my fingers for the latter.
Reeves was presenting for the first time as a service rep. We’d practiced for untold hours. Though I’d coached him on public speaking ad nauseum, I’d been reticent to offer advice about his accent. He wasn’t saddled with my personal linguistic concerns, and frankly, even suggesting he tone down his Southern—if he could even do that—would have added a whole new layer of fear and trepidation.
Unlike Reeves, Perry Hanes, my western regional service rep, was a ten-year veteran who needed little from me. And once again, Mona had used her magic powers (aka pleading on her knees while offering me her world-famous peach cobbler) to get out of presenting. One day, Missy!
“Now, behave yourself,” Pete said sternly. “Call me if I need to come up and kill anybody.”
“I’ll call you every single day. And I can do my own killing, thank you very much.”
“That’s my girl. Come back to me,” he said sincerely.
“Always.”
♥
Packed into a suffocating conference room, I spied my first glimpse of Kirsten when I stepped to the podium. But for the grace of God, I was only forced to see my sworn enemy once every three months—a blessing beyond measure. Before beginning my presentation, I nodded to my district manager colleagues in the rear, most wearing the overly bored expressions of upperclassmen, and then smiled at the attentive, freshman-like service representatives up front. Reeves sat ramrod straight, altogether failing to wear the confident, impassive mask I’d sewn for him.
After returning to my seat, the echo of mild applause fizzled. I tried to look interested as the next victim began speaking. Suddenly, a wadded piece of paper sailed over my shoulder and landed in my lap. Reading it, I snorted.
Dinner tonight? Check yes or no.
I checked yes and air-mailed it back.
I’d like to tell you that important, powerful, upper middle managers were a highly sophisticated lot, but it just wasn’t so. Inside, we were the same smack-talking goofballs we’d been as service reps. Of course, now the smack wasn’t always the jovial kind, and the back-stabbing was done using professional-grade steel. Thus was the nature of the job and the culture fostered by this magnanimous company.
I didn’t pay particular attention to Kirsten’s speech. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about what spewed from her thin, reptilian lips, but I did study her. She reminded me, I decided, of an emaciated flamingo: all gangly and bizarre. I ripped a corner from my legal pad and jotted what time? before carefully folding it and tossing it behind me. I heard a delighted chuckle. A note sailed back. 7:00 sharp. Meet me in the lobby.
After the break, when it was Reeves’ turn to stand on the gallows, I held my breath. He started, stalled, and started again, sweat visibly beading on his forehead. Tripping over his own tongue three times, he finally found his pace and barreled into his—our—first slide. I mouthed every word of his talk, including the ums I’d absolutely anticipated. When he finished, his eyes met mine, and I winked. Once his back was to me, I sagged in my seat, fully spent. It had been touch and go there for a while. A pretty brunette whispered something in his ear as the applause died away. Hmm…
♥
“I can’t believe it,” Jeremy said, laughing into his wine glass. “I’ve been trying to take you to dinner for—what, a couple of years now? And all it took was a note. Why didn’t I th
ink of that sooner?”
I smirked. “I have a strong affinity for the immature.”
“Look at you.” He shook his head. “I think you’re more beautiful now than when we first met. There’s a glow about you.”
“It’s called a tan.”
“That’s not what I mean. You look…I don’t know, just really happy.” He glanced at my shimmering hunk of prehistoric dinosaur poop. “And it doesn’t take much to guess why.” My toothy smile was uncontrollable. “I’m so glad you found your happily-ever-after. It makes me think, someday, I might as well.”
“Oh, please, Jeremy. You will.” Right then, my demon knocked on the door, and of course, I let him right in. “So…how’s Liza?”
A goofy grin, much like the one Pete so often wore, spread across his face. “She’s great.” Then he caught himself. “I mean, she’s an excellent employee, and her numbers are fantastic. I couldn’t be more pleased with an, um…employee.”
“I’m glad to hear she’s working out so well. Her presentation was stellar today.” I shook my head, summoning what I hoped was a rueful expression. “I really should have brought her down with me when I moved. You know, I do have an opening in my western region,” I lied, toying with my tuna roll, toying with him. “You wouldn’t be interested in a trade, by chance?” With sincere pleasure, I watched the color literally drain from his face. “You did say you owed me for life.” I raised an eyebrow, keeping my poker face in place.
Thanks to me, he’d become manager of one of the most lucrative, career-making districts in the company. Brokering that deal had earned me a lifetime ally.
“I do absolutely owe you. If you want to trade, Mary Albers, my northern rep, would be a much better fit. She’s got seniority over Liza, and honestly, knows her way—”
Back Where I Belong: A Wonderfully Witty and Completely Absorbing Love Story (Susan Wade Series Book 3) Page 2
