“She’s mean. She’s wee, but she’s just plain mean. She’s like a wet cat,” he responded absently. The bartender was grabbing a white plastic bag from under the bar and handing it over to her.
“She doesn’t look mean. She’s really cute,” Shay stated. “I should go introduce myself. Where’s she from? Did she move here by herself?”
“San Diego and I have no idea. If you do introduce yourself, whatever you do, don’t bring up the Zoo. It’s a touchy subject,” he stated with slightly widened eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Never mind. I just wouldn’t do it,” Ian said in a grave tone.
“She’s a long way from home. It might be nice to meet people. You know, I am sort of the unofficially official social coordinator in this town,” Shay responded as she stepped around Ian but stepped back quickly as a waiter walked by with a food covered tray.
Anne was already walking toward the door. Her eyes were downcast, head angled toward the floor, trying to be invisible, if he could take a guess. She sidestepped a few patrons before reaching for the door handle. A man standing next to the door smiled appreciatively down toward her, he was saying something.
Whatever it was, she certainly didn’t respond. She breezed through the door causing a look of confusion to cross his features. He probably thought she didn’t hear him.
She heard you, buddy.
“Ian, what a surprise! Welcome back!” A boisterous voice caused his attention to snap from the front door to the portly man standing behind the bar. He was wearing a chef’s jacket and his face had an almost ruddy appearance.
“Hey Doug, business is good, eh?” Ian gave a quick sweep around the bar and restaurant. Not one seat was empty.
“Yeah.” He practically beamed as he responded. “How long will you be here? I haven’t seen you in like…”
“A year,” Ian interrupted him, “I know. So, the place looks great, renovations went off without a hitch?”
“Done in two months, can you believe it? At the rate I’m going, I’ll have you paid back in another three months,” Doug stated. The restaurant was small, cozy, it used to be what American’s refer to as a ‘dive’, but with a relatively small infusion of capital, the restaurant’s appearance was almost as nice as the food was good.
“Except now, you’re so busy; I might not find a seat. I think I’ve screwed myself…” Ian stated with a small laugh.
“I know! But there will always be a seat for my best investor. I’ll set you up in the kitchen if I have to. Speaking of which, I better get back. We’re slammed for a Monday.” He took a quick sip of ice water before settling it under the bar.
“Tomorrow, you’ll come back. I’ll make a special just for you. Haggis? Yeah?” Doug stated as he backed away.
“Aye, I wouldn’t…” Ian started with a slightly sheepish expression.
“Sure, why not? It’s an acquired taste. Tomorrow…” Doug Connelly pointed at him as he continued to back away causing Ian to shake his head and smile.
“All right.” He swirled the Scotch in his glass before taking a sip and setting it back down. Doug would sell exactly one portion of his special tomorrow…
“Damn. How much are you paying scientists these days?” Shay’s voice asked next to him, causing him to swivel on his stool.
“Pardon?”
“Girlfriend just drove off in a Porsche. A Porcshe Boxter Spyder, by the way – dark blue, convertible. I think I love this woman.”
“Did you actually speak to her? You must not have, you wouldn’t say that otherwise,” he stated in a serious tone.
“No. She was already in her car by the time I got out,” Shay said, “Did you see that jacket she had on? I swear that was Marc Jacobs, last year’s collection, but still…that jacket was at least seven hundred bucks.”
“How would you know that?” he asked.
“A girl can dream, right? I’m a fashion whore; I just can’t afford the stuff,” she stated casually. “Too bad she’s like a size nothing petite. I would love to check out this girl’s closet, too bad my ass wouldn’t fit in any of it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your…never mind. You look fine. You have this Michelle Obama thing going on.” He waved his hands erratically in front of her.
“I know, right? I told Rand that and he laughed at me,” she stated with an accompanying eye roll.
“Rand is a blind man,” he stated and meant it. Shay was a beautiful woman with an equally beautiful personality. She was quite possibly his second favorite person on the face of the Earth.
“So are you staying through the weekend? The ACS Ball is this Saturday. I’m on the committee, Doug is catering, it’s at the Country Club, you can be my date if Rand doesn’t get back from Iowa in time,” she stated in rapid succession. “Oh by the way, you’re a Gold Sponsor. Your generosity is much appreciated,” she added with a sly smile.
He almost choked on his sip of Scotch.
“What? Wait…what?” he asked after regaining his wits.
“American Cancer Society, Breast Cancer Awareness, Annual Fundraiser, Dunmed donated ten thousand dollars…”
“I did?” he asked.
“You sure did. I mean, you donate every year. No, actually your assistant donates your money every year, but what’s the difference? You can’t take it back.” She cast him a warning look.
“Wasn’t planning on it. You’d think she’d tell me this stuff?” he said more to himself than her.
“You’ve been busy buying up companies and what-not. Ten grand is like chump change to you. Anyway, you should go so we can properly thank you at the event.”
“No.” He almost barked out.
“I’ll make you change your mind. Maybe I can get girlfriend to go. Maybe you’ll go then? You were staring at her, by the way.”
“No I wasn’t,” he said.
“Yeah, you were,” Shay responded immediately. “That’s OK, maybe I don’t have to do any matchmaking for you. Maybe you can take of that yourself,” she stated as she backed away toward her table of friends. “I’ll call you this week. You’ll come over for dinner? The kids’ll want to see you…”
“Sure,” he stated as he watched her round the table and pull out her seat. Seven sets of eyes were on him, he noticed.
“Sure you don’t want to sit with us?” she asked loudly as she passed an almost secretive smile to him.
“Positive,” he mouthed silently toward Shay before turning back around. He could almost feel the eyes on his back still.
A platter of Chicken Marsala sat before him on the bar. He looked up toward the bartender and indicated the plate.
“Can I get this to go?”
*****
“So, are you all settled in? How do you like the town? It’s a lot different from San Diego, huh?” a voice interrupted her solitude the next morning.
She kept her eyes focused on the handbook in front of her on the desk.
“Umm. Yeah,” she muttered, noting the woman that was speaking was now leaning her rear end on the edge of her desk.
The partition walls were closing in. She scooched her chair to the left ever so slightly.
“Well, if you need anything, you just let us know. We’ll help you out. By the way, it’s potluck day, just in case you haven’t smelled it. Everybody brings in a dish to share. Do you cook?” the voice asked.
“Ah…” Please get off my desk. Please go…somewhere else.
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t, you can just bring in a bag of chips or some buns or something. We pretty much eat for any occasion around here,” the voice stated. “So, what are you working on? Did you get assigned to a project yet?”
“No.” Anne stated a bit too forcefully. What did McClellan say? Don’t scare people… “No,” she added in a softer tone.
“Yeah, Jay isn’t here this week. He’s at some conference. I can’t believe they had you start on the week he wasn’t here,” she said in a lowered voice
. “He’s a pretty good boss, not too much of a micromanager. Now Ron? Ron was awesome,” her voice lowered even further into a whisper. “He had a total meltdown, like 2 months ago. They fired him. That’s too bad. He was really smart.”
Anne’s eyes finally traveled from the text in front of her to the woman’s face. Their eyes connected for a brief moment before Anne’s turned away once again. She almost asked why, but that would imply she wanted to know more, which would then lead to this woman staying put. And talking some more…
She needed to move on.
“Ok,” was her only response. What a dumb response, but that was all her mouth could conjure at the moment. Go…please…
“So, let us know if you need anything. We’ll put you on the potluck email list, OK? It’s nice to meet you, Anne.”
“Nice to meet you too, ah…” What was her name?
“Emma,” the voice supplied for her. “But most people call me Em.”
“Sure. Right.” Anne stated absently. The woman’s body finally moved from her perch on the desk causing a small sigh of relief to release from her lips.
That would be the fourth person to invade her small space in the course of a few hours.
Day Two and she still had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to be working on. Her visits to the Lab netted nothing other than the fact that everyone seemed to be in their own little world, concentrating on their own activities. She wouldn’t think to ask anyone if they needed help, instead she quietly retreated back to her small desk to sit and stare at the handbook, the Corporate Intranet page and every link that was enclosed within the pages.
It was completely maddening.
She wouldn’t complain. They were paying her. She should be grateful any company would hire her.
*****
The gym was completely empty. Most likely due to the fact that most people in the building were participating in ‘potluck’ day. A line of people seemed to form in front of her desk right before lunch. The line extended through the office toward the front of the room where various crock pots were housed. Each one of them gave off a distinct scent and yet they mingled together to create a whole different smell depending on where one stood in the room. The smells and the high noise level combined with the keen interest people seemed to have in the ‘new girl’ caused Anne to eventually slip from the room and make her way down the hall.
She kept her pace to a slow walk on the treadmill, enough to burn a few calories but not enough to produce a sweat. HR had granted her request for keycard access and tomorrow she would work out early, use the gym’s shower facilities and get ready for work, much like her last job.
She switched the channel on the remote, choosing a mid-day newscast and watched idly as she walked. The lunch hour seemed to crawl much like the pace she was keeping but anything was better than being stuck in a room with smell, chatter and prying minds.
When she was reasonably sure the lunch hour festivities were coming to a close, she stepped from the machine and exited the room. The hallway was relatively empty save for a man that just walked out of an office and made his way down the hall, past the Lab and toward the main lobby. She continued to walk, listening for the sound of many voices, but the closer she came to the office, she noticed that it seemed quiet. Blissfully quiet. She blew out a small sigh of relief and turned the corner into the room before stopping short. Her eyes darted to the right and left in a moment of stunned stupor before her right leg stepped back and her body slowly crept backward toward the door once again.
He was there.
In the office. His back was turned toward her and it appeared that he was addressing the few people left in the office area. She had no idea what he was saying as she continued to step backward, turning the corner before bumping into something behind her.
“Oof.” A soft grunt could be heard before she turned her head and recognized a man that was introduced to her earlier. Harry…something or other…
“Excuse me,” he stated softly with a small smile before he stepped around her but stopped short, much like she did only a second before.
“Oh God,” he muttered before backing up out of the doorway. He turned on his heel and walked quickly down the hall. Anne stepped to the side of the doorway back into the hall, debating on where to hide. She didn’t need another confrontation with Dr. McClellan. Her eyes scanned the doors running the length of the hallway before settling on the Women’s Restroom. Her feet carried her quickly to the door before she opened it and walked in. At least 6 heads turned toward her as soon as she stepped in, surprising her immediately.
“Hey,” one of the women stated, leaning against one of the sinks. The other women offered up friendly smiles.
“It’s Ok, we’re all hiding too,” she confided.
*****
What’s that smell? He thought as he wandered down the hall. The closer he came to her office, the more intense the smell became. His conference call let out ten minutes early and his next meeting wasn’t scheduled for another thirty minutes. He left the sandwich on his desk, as he found himself thinking about her yet again. He should stop by; find out how she was settling in, maybe come up with some lame excuse just to talk to her. Why?
He had no idea.
Turning the corner, his eyes widened from the sight before him. That would explain the smell…
A few people milled about with plates of food. Some were talking in groups; others were scooping or placing things on their plates.
“Hello.” His statement caused each person to immediately cease speaking and turn toward him. Some kept their expressions in check, others gaped before closing their mouths, but their eyes were still widened.
“Is this a test kitchen or a Lab?” he quipped more to himself as his eyes scanned the group. They were speechless, evidently. He cleared his throat as the look of initial confusion on his face turned to a small conciliatory smile.
One of the men nearest him finally spoke up. “It’s…ah…potluck day,” he offered in a small voice.
“Potluck day, eh? What’s a ‘potluck’?” He stepped further into the room, amazed that some of the group actually took a step back. That was curious.
“It’s umm, people bring in food, and umm…we just…we won’t do it anymore,” the same man muttered in a clearly nervous voice.
His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the short man before him. “What’s your name?” he asked quietly.
The man took a visible gulp. “Ryan?” he responded as if he suddenly couldn’t remember.
“Ryan. Right,” he stated almost absently before fixing him with a more direct look. “Ryan, I don’t care if you have a ‘potluck’ whatever. It’s Ok. I was just looking for someone. I think she sits down here. Ms. Bennett? Anyone seen Ms. Bennett?” His eyes scanned the group and heads automatically shook from side to side in silence.
“Hmm. Alright then. Does she sit down here?” he asked and the shaking heads turned to nodding heads. “Good. Great. Where?” Each person silently pointed toward a woefully sparse desk compared to the other five visible to him. Each one of them was filled to the hilt with knickknacks, personal effects, papers scattered about. He had the distinct feeling that Anne’s would always remain neat and tidy and completely devoid of any type of personal touch. Why? He just had a feeling…
“Alright then. You go back to your, umm…”
“Potluck day.” Ryan supplied before clamping his mouth shut.
“Right. Yes.” His eyes wandered from Ryan’s face to the rest of the men and women still staring at him with wary expressions. Am I that scary? What the Hell?
“Did you, umm, maybe want a…brownie? Or…?” Ryan trailed off.
His eyes snapped back to the man in front of him causing him to sort of shrink back. Silence reigned for a few moments before he finally responded with a “Sure” and a small shrug.
A woman close to the table jumped into action a second later, grabbing a napkin and placing a brown chunk on it before taking a
few tentative steps toward him and holding it out at a full arms’ length. It was like she was holding a dead fish out for a killer whale at Sea World or something. Her hand was actually shaking. He looked at the offering and immediately smiled and took it from her gently.
“Thank you. Carry on…” His eyes gave one more scan over the group and he could almost guess that a collective sigh escaped each one of them as he exited the room.
It was the weirdest thing.
Moments later, he walked into his office suite, the uneaten brownie still held in his hand before he dropped it on the desk before his office door. Rand’s assistant Andrea looked up and then down to the brownie setting atop a small napkin before looking up again.
“It’s a brownie,” he explained unnecessarily. “It’s Potluck day. Who knew, eh?” he stated before wandering into the office and closing the door behind him.
Chapter Three
The movers had come and gone, dropping off the few boxes she couldn’t possibly have fit in the Porsche: mostly kitchen gadgets and clothes, boxes of shoes, and only one box of personal effects. Twenty minutes in and she had placed what few items she had left away. She was working on the very last box of kitchen items when she heard it.
The distinct sound of keys engaging the lock on the front door caused her head to snap up and her hands to cease movement. She listened for a second more, doubting then realizing that someone truly was coming in the front door. Her hand grabbed a large knife from the block she just shoved toward the back of the granite countertop as she crept around the kitchen island and padded toward the opening to the living room. The front door slammed shut and footsteps could be heard walking through the front room, becoming louder and more pronounced. They were headed straight for the kitchen. Anne backed up, eyes darting from side to side; completely unsure of what to do when a small, weathered-looking woman rounded the corner and stopped short. Their eyes connected; Anne’s were huge; the older woman’s were narrowed.
“What are you doing here?” the woman asked with a frown on her wrinkled face.
“I…what are you doing here?” Anne stated forcefully.
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