by Gun Brooke
Eleanor stared at the woman she couldn’t get out of her mind. “Is that all?” She struggled to sound matter of fact.
“Yes.” Her voice weak, Addison dragged a hand through her long locks. “And I wasn’t coming on to you. Not deliberately.”
Not deliberately? Eleanor crossed her legs underneath her robe. What did that mean? Was Addison attracted to her? That was utterly ridiculous. She’d gone over in her mind every single reason why she was too old. And it was a moot point. No matter whether Addison was a lesbian, the young woman was lovely and kind, and could get any woman she wanted, no doubt.
“Your sexual orientation is of no consequence to this project.” Eleanor waved her hand dismissively. “I didn’t notice anything untoward tonight—”
“Then why did you practically run from the limo?”
Damn it, Addison was too persistent for her own good. “I was…I am tired.”
Addison slumped onto her pillows and the laptop shifted, angling the camera to zoom in on her face further. Her chin trembled, and Eleanor knew more was going on than she’d first thought.
“Addison. You didn’t offend me. I admit I was taken aback by my reaction to—to you. I didn’t want you to notice. Not to embarrass you.” It pained her to admit as much, but the vulnerable image of Addison was more than she could take. This was so unlike her; she refused to acknowledge just how much.
“Really?” Addison looked up, tugging a pink blanket closer. “I’m not good at this coming-out part. Never was.”
“I realize it may be uncomfortable, but this is the twenty-first century. Surely we’ve come a long way.”
Addison looked up and wiped her cheeks hastily. “Yeah. You’d think so. I’m blessed with a bunch of friends who’ve always accepted me. Stacey knows and she’s cool with it.” Her lips tensed again. “But my coming-out at nineteen killed my parents.”
*
Addison couldn’t believe she’d just blurted out her biggest source of pain, and her shame, just like that. What was it about Eleanor that simply triggered this…this candor, in her? Normally she went through her days pushing these dark thoughts away while taking care of Stacey, filming her videos, and being the ever service-minded barista.
“What do you mean, Addison?”
Oh, no. Eleanor’s voice had softened. Only marginally, but it was obvious to her. “Seven years ago, when I was nineteen, I came out to my parents. Let’s just say they hated the idea of having a gay daughter. They argued with each other, casting blame, and tried to prevent me from hanging with any of my friends. They believed that one of my female friends must have turned me gay. Then, only a few days after my big announcement, they were driving home from visiting some friends. They called me on Dad’s cell phone while I was babysitting Stacey. She was ten at the time. Mom was very upset with Dad and they kept arguing in the car. I tried to distract them, make them stop…make them listen. Dad yelled at me to be quiet, that I’d said enough for quite a while—and then the phone went dead.” Addison wiped at her eyes again. “As did they. They drove right up on the train tracks. Something was wrong with the crossing arms. Police said they probably never saw the freight train that plowed right into the station wagon.”
“And you’ve lived with the guilt since then,” Eleanor said quietly.
“Only in my head. I’ve never said anything to Stacey. I can’t risk her…hating me.”
Eleanor’s hand passed the camera lens and Addison realized she was touching the screen. “Don’t pity me. I can’t take that right now.”
“I don’t do pity.” Eleanor sounded her usual stern self, but her eyes glimmered suspiciously. “I find it unproductive and a waste of time.”
Eleanor moved her hand and Addison wondered what part of the screen she was touching. Or what part of her Eleanor was touching…if she was doing that at all. She glanced at the smaller screen showing herself next to the image of Eleanor. The T-shirt covered most of her, but it had slipped sideways a bit, showing a bit of cleavage at the bottom of the screen. Blushing profusely, Addison wondered if that was what Eleanor was tracing with her fingers, back and forth.
“I do not, however, condone bigotry or intolerance. I may have a reputation for not having any patience for fools, and this is true. But you need not fear any repercussions for confiding in me regarding your sexual preference.” Eleanor swallowed hard. “And while we’re being confessional in the middle of the night, I should do you the same courtesy.”
Addison licked her dry lips, and Eleanor followed the tip of her tongue’s journey quite openly. “Yes?” Addison urged her softly.
“I did react in a completely unusual manner when faced with your beauty. I apologize, as it was inappropriate and uncalled for.” Eleanor pulled back her hand and clenched her fist.
“That’s why you ran,” Addison whispered.
“Very astute observation. It’s getting way too late now. Enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you on Monday. Good night.” The image of Eleanor flickered once and then disappeared.
Moaning, Addison pulled a pillow into her arms. Fuck. This was going to be a hell of a weekend after such confessions. “Oh!” Closing her eyes, she pulled the image of Eleanor’s hungry stare from her memory. So, she hadn’t imagined it after all.
Holy smokes.
Chapter Eight
Addison rubbed her tired eyes. She’d been looking at swatches of color until she was dizzy and didn’t feel much closer to a solution. She had a strong feeling this wasn’t the way to go about this. What was more, she suspected that Keith, the chemist, and Linda, the “go-to person,” as she’d introduced herself at their first meeting four weeks ago, had suggested this project to get her out of the way. Suddenly angry because these people were wasting Eleanor’s money by not utilizing her time properly, she jumped up.
Shoving the swatches into her tote bag, she left the desolate conference room. This floor of the Face Exquisite’s domain was hardly in use, which only strengthened her feeling that she was being deliberately ostracized. Did her presence really threaten Keith and Linda that much? Shaking her head at this ridiculous idea, she took the stairs to the floor above. This was where the head honchos of the company had their offices, with Linda as the spider in the web as Eleanor’s XO while the company underwent serious restructuring.
Addison marched up to the bleached-blond young woman who worked as Linda’s assistant.
“Hi again, Christa,” Addison said, and smiled politely. Christa was the type of girl who made her teeth hurt. She was all for being nonjudgmental, but this woman gave beautiful, model-like women a bad name. Christa was disdainful and contemptuous; why she’d chosen to work in a service profession was anybody’s guess. “I need to see Linda.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. Let me check if she’s available this week.”
“This week?” Flames of annoyance licked the inside of Addison’s belly and rose through her throat. “Are you telling me it’s impossible for Linda, who referred to herself as my ‘go-to person,’ to give me ten minutes of her time this week?”
Christa blanched. “Um. Just let me—let me check.” She typed away at her computer. “I’m sorry, Ms. Garr, I don’t see any—”
“Fine. Fine!” Furious now, Addison whipped out her cell phone and dialed Eleanor’s office at the Ashcroft Group. Pretty sure Susan wouldn’t give her the runaround, she tapped her foot impatiently. This didn’t help alleviate her jitters at the idea of hearing Eleanor’s voice for the first time in three weeks. She’d been on an extended business trip in Europe, which had given Addison ample time to get antsy about their last Skype conversation.
Susan’s friendly voice interrupted her thoughts. “The Ashcroft Group, Eleanor Ashcroft’s office.”
“Susan, hi, this is Addison Garr—”
“Addison! Wonderful. Ms. Ashcroft and I were just talking about you. She’s been away, as you know, and between you and me, you were the first topic on the agenda when she arrived this morning.”
I was
? Addison coughed to clear the sudden lump from her windpipe. “Hmm. Really. I’ve run into a snag, Susan. I really need ten minutes of her time.”
“Of course.” Susan sounded as if she was smiling. “I’ll put her on right now.”
“Oh. Wow. Thank you.” She felt totally unprepared, not only for the fact that she’d already been the topic of Eleanor’s conversation on her first day back, but also that Eleanor was ready to take her call instantly.
“Addison? Everything all right?”
“No.” Angry at herself for not being able to pull herself together and stabilize her voice, Addison took a deep breath. “You need to know that you’re paying me to sit on my ass and look at swatches. For several days now. They’re wasting my time and your money. I still get paid, but this wasn’t what I signed up for.”
“I’m on my way. Meet me at that little Italian place on the corner across the street in fifteen minutes.”
“Oh. Okay.” Addison blinked as she stared at her now-disconnected cell phone. She redirected her attention to Christa, who she guessed had been listening in and would report every single word she overheard to Linda. Fortunately Christa had heard only Addison’s part of the conversation. “Well, as Linda doesn’t have time to try to save this company according to Ms. Ashcroft’s specifications, I’m out of here.”
“Oh, but—”
“Later, Christa.” Go back to that nail filing you’re so good at. Addison hurried out the large glass doors and into the elevator.
Outside, the sun was making vehicles sparkle, and surely people were smiling more than they did last week. Or was it her mindset, the knowledge that she was going to see Eleanor in just a few minutes? She crossed the busy street, merely grinning at a cursing cabby who ended up smiling back at her out of sheer surprise, no doubt. The restaurant, which turned out to be a very small, intimate place, had just seen the last of the lunchtime mob, it seemed. A waiter was cleaning one of the corner tables when Addison stepped inside, requesting lunch for two.
“Oh, I’m sorry. We have no table available, ma’am,” the maître d’ said with a condescending smirk. “Usually, lunch here is booked in—”
“I see my favorite table is available, Rodolfo.” Eleanor’s voice sounded from behind. “Very kind of you to not give it away to just anyone, but this is my associate, Ms. Garr. I expect you to treat her like you do me in the future. Like family.”
Addison forcefully closed her mouth as her jaw threatened to land somewhere around her feet. Had Eleanor said family? Today was shaping up to be surreal.
The maître d’ certainly looked like he agreed. “Ms. Ashcroft. I had no idea. Please, this way.” He guided them to a corner table cleverly tucked behind a wall of tall green plants, obscuring them from any of the other patrons. “Dora will be with you shortly to take your order.”
“Thank you,” Addison muttered.
Dora, the waitress, appeared instantly. They both ordered mineral water and accepted the menus. Addison opened hers but hardly looked at it. “I’m having a rather interesting day, Eleanor. How about you?”
Eleanor placed her elbows on her open menu and tilted her head while resting her chin against laced fingers. “Do tell.”
“Let me ask you something first. What kind of reports are you getting from Linda and Keith?”
“From Keith, nothing. Everything goes through Linda. She’s my eyes and ears at Face Exquisite.”
“Are you telling me she’s acting with your complete approval?” Her mood plummeting, Addison wondered if she’d misinterpreted Eleanor’s eagerness to see her.
“Yes.” Eleanor drew out the one-syllable word, not sounding entirely sure. “As you may know, I’ve been visiting six of our European headquarters and one in Dubai. I’ve received e-mails from Linda from which I gathered that you were struggling to get a handle on some of the basic ideas.”
“What?” It was possible to see red when infuriated after all. Probably the blood pressure skyrocketing. Addison gripped the edge of the table, which kept her from slamming her fists into the linen-clad surface. “Let me guess. Linda mentioned nothing about my daily attempts to get the ball rolling. Nor did she write one single sentence about the three times my meetings with Keith have been interrupted by her, or by him. Yes, I’ve been having some issues with the swatches, that’s true, but mainly because that’s all I’ve been doing. I’ve stared at those freaking things so much, they could all be purple and green polka dot, and I’d still pick them just to get on with things.” Addison gasped for air, feeling her lungs constrict. “I still get paid for my hours, but they’re wasting your money by wasting my time. What’s this Linda up to? Am I that much of a threat to her position at Face Exquisite?”
Eleanor’s face didn’t give anything away as she listened to Addison. She blinked slowly and Addison sensed that this movement was indicative of anger, studiously harnessed until unleashed. “Linda has worked for the Ashcroft Group for several years and for Face Exquisite ever since I took over. I’ve never had reason to doubt her allegiance or honesty.”
That was that. So much for the dream of making this work, of doing what was best for Stacey. Addison’s stomach clenched, and of course the waiter chose that moment to return to take their orders. Nauseous now from sheer disappointment, and from something else, a heartache stemming from something she couldn’t decipher, Addison shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not hungry.” She snapped the menu closed and handed it back to Dora. “Let me just pay for the mineral water…” She dug into her purse, looking for her wallet.
“Stop.” Eleanor’s voice made Addison jump and glance up, her eyes stinging. “Don’t jump to conclusions.” She turned to the waitress. “Give the menu back to Ms. Garr. There. I recommend the chicken parmesan or the salmon ravioli, but anything on their lunch menu is very good.”
Addison saw something new in Eleanor’s eyes, something hard as well as unforgiving. The question was, toward whom was it directed? Her stomach was still reacting like it normally did when she was anxious, but she ended up ordering the ravioli anyway. Dora thanked them, gathered the menus, and left. Addison sipped her water as she waited for Eleanor to continue.
“Just a moment.” Eleanor pulled up her cell phone and pressed a button once. “This is Eleanor Ashcroft. Get me Linda. Now.” A small frown appeared between perfect eyebrows. “Now.” Her voice, so gentle before, was back to sounding lethal. “Linda. Hello. Yes, I’m back. I’m having lunch with Addison Garr.”
Oh, God. Addison closed her eyes briefly as she pictured what tale Linda might be spinning.
“Why have you not made yourself available to Ms. Garr as we agreed?” Eleanor listened for ten seconds. “Your view on this is noted, but I really couldn’t care less. This is not your area of expertise. You’re the liaison between the Ashcroft Group and Face Exquisite. You’re a facilitator. Addison is the expert on what is current, what signifies high quality, and most important, she’s my personal choice. You’ve been a great asset to my company until now, which is the only reason I’m prepared to give you one more chance to do this right. I expect you to follow my directions tomorrow, or you may pack your bags and leave without the favorable letter of recommendation your tenure would generally garner. I don’t have to go into detail how that will affect you in any future endeavor in Manhattan, hmm?” She listened again. “I thought so. No. Don’t say that to me. You should direct any apologies to Ms. Garr.” Tilting her head again, Eleanor sucked her lower lip in between her teeth. “And while we’re on the subject of employment? Fire Christa Mueller and find an assistant who isn’t a complete disaster. I do not appreciate the way she has performed.”
Addison nearly dropped her glass. Eleanor had just told Linda off in no uncertain terms. Not only that, she’d made sure Linda knew her future employment with Eleanor’s companies depended on how well she handled herself from now on. And Christa was out. Wow. Addison jerked as Dora placed plates of steaming food before them.
“Surely your appetite is ba
ck by now?” Eleanor speared a piece of chicken and looked pointedly at Addison’s plate.
“Um. Yeah. Yes.” She wasn’t so sure about that, but at least now she could breathe. Relaxing against the backrest of the booth, she chewed the first forkful of her ravioli while studying Eleanor closely. For the first time today, she spotted signs of fatigue. “Oh, God. Here you come home after that marathon headquarters-hopping and I give you more grief. I’m sorry.” Addison lowered her fork and took Eleanor’s free hand before giving herself time to consider this bold move. “This has got to be the last thing you needed.”
“Actually, Face Exquisite is more of a priority than any of the headquarters right now. I only went because it’d been planned for so long. I don’t have to tell you how cutthroat corporate business in the U.S. can be. As for what I need? Sitting here, relaxing—finally—is just what I need.” She glanced down at their joined hands. “It’s nice to see you again, Addison.”
Her face heated quickly when she realized she was still holding Eleanor’s hand. She let go and fiddled with her knife. “Likewise. I mean, I’m glad you’re back.”
“I’ve kept up with your makeup videos,” Eleanor said, and then to Addison’s amazement, her cheekbones colored a faint pink.
“You have? That’s great. I hope you found them to be of the caliber necessary for a representative of Face Exquisite.”
“Yes. Absolutely.” Eleanor pushed some penne pasta around her plate. “I learned a lot about lipsticks I didn’t know. Especially about long-lasting ones that don’t smear.”
Addison crossed her ankles and pulled her feet in under her chair. The idea of Eleanor and smearing lipsticks was hot. Too hot for a conversation over lunch. “Glad it was useful,” she murmured.
“Oh, it was.” Eleanor’s eyes scorched her as they homed in on her face, then traveled down to her hands and up again. “We need to discuss work-related details further, but I have a meeting in thirty minutes and I’d rather just have my lunch and some coffee. Will you be home this evening and available on Skype?”
