BACK TO SQUARE ONE
(Brandon Bay Babes 1)
by Noni Calbane
Kit Davidson’s life was in a rut. She wasn’t just at a fork in the road; she had a whole cutlery drawer in her way. For a girl who always felt like she faded into the background; imagine her surprise to have one gorgeous ex-boss, her dreamy high school crush and her suddenly hunky childhood best friend all vying for her affections. Losing her roommate, her job and her confidence and going home to Brandon Bay seemed like the worst idea in the world. But where better to exorcise all her ghosts, start over and reinvent herself than by going ‘back to square one’.
Copyright © 2013 by Noni Calbane
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First Published, 2013
Contents
CHAPTER 1 - Get your walking papers
CHAPTER 2 - Off on the wrong foot
CHAPTER 3 - Actions speak louder than words
CHAPTER 4 - Home is where the heart is
CHAPTER 5 - You can’t judge a book by its cover
CHAPTER 6 – Let bygones be bygones
CHAPTER 7 - Rome wasn’t built in a day
CHAPTER 8 - Chip on his shoulder
CHAPTER 9 - A Picture Paints a Thousand Words
CHAPTER 10 - A taste of your own medicine
CHAPTER 11 - A fool and his money are easily parted
CHAPTER 12 - A House Divided Against Itself Cannot Stand
CHAPTER 13 - Flash in the pan
CHAPTER 14 - A Doubting Thomas
CHAPTER 15 - Dark Horse
CHAPTER 16 - Drink like a fish
CHAPTER 17 - Between a rock and a hard place
CHAPTER 18 - Hat Trick
CHAPTER 19 - Great Minds think alike
CHAPTER 20 - Go for broke
CHAPTER 21 - Knee jerk reaction
CHAPTER 22 - Keep your chin up
CHAPTER 23 - Elvis has left the building
CHAPTER 24 - Jump the Gun
CHAPTER 25 - Get Down to Brass Tacks
HEAD OVER HEELS – COMING SOON
CHAPTER 1 – Playful in Pumps
CHAPTER 2 – Sneaky in sneakers
CHAPTER 1 - Get your walking papers
Kit Davidson read the email again. By the tenth time it was becoming blurry and, hope though she may, it still said the same thing.
Funny, how in movies people constantly talked about getting the dreaded pink slip; these days it didn’t even rate a colour, let alone a literal piece of paper. Maybe she should print it out, so at least she would have something tangible to actually cry over and tearstain.
But then again, waterlogging a computer with her tears and short-circuiting the system would just serve McIntyre and Jones right. She’d given them the best years of her short working life and all she had to show for it was, what her vivid imagination perceived to be, the beginnings of an ulcer and a small severance payout that would keep her in Ben & Jerry’s, oh, for about a month if her calculations were correct.
For someone who was so far below the radar and completely invisible to all but the nice little man who delivered the mail to her inbox, she found it surprising that they’d remembered her enough to actually fire her.
Pulling out a file storage box, Kit started emptying the drawers of her personal effects. There was nothing much to take home. A box of tissues, her iPod, and the pen her mother gave her when she moved to the city and the big time.
Oh crap! Telling her mother was going to be the pits. How would she react? Who the hell knew?
Gladys Davidson was a total enigma to Kit. They were polar opposites and she had struggled dealing with her mother her whole life. Who could deal with person who used idioms and proverbs as a conversational way of speaking!
On second thought, she knew exactly what her mother would say. She’d tell her you that “if it’s not one thing, it’s another” and to “take the good with the bad” and “every cloud has a silver lining”
Unquestionably, the most memorable conversation she’d had with her mother was the infamous sex talk at thirteen, where the phrases that “he won’t buy the cow if he gets the milk for free” and “it takes two to tango” came into play. When Kit had responded back that she should “stop beating around the bush” and “cut to the chase”, her mother behaved as though she had no idea what she was talking about, and left her bedroom stating that Kit may very well “go to hell in a hand basket”. Then and there, Kit decided that her mother was “not playing with a full deck”, and therefore excluded her from all future important decision making discussions.
No. Telling her mother could wait; an eternity, if possible. The “want” ads should be her priority. That and working out what to do about her apartment.
Of course, her roommate leaving her in the lurch perfectly coincided with her position being terminated. It was the story of her life; whatever way her bread was buttered it would always inevitably fall face down. Her roommate’s decision to up and leave to pursue her dream of pole dancing in Vegas (who the hell actually has that as a life goal), made it imperative that she either, A. let the place go; or B. find a new roommate, and fast. She would miss her roommate, Bambi. She was kind of sweet in a vacuous and childlike way. She was also sheer proof that naming a child could end in a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Sniffing loudly, Kit took a tissue and blew her nose. Her life certainly seemed to be going down the toilet at not half-flush, but airplane sucking speed.
When four-forty-five rolled around, Kit grabbed her purse and plastic bag of belongings (she’d decided the box was overkill, she really didn’t have that much stuff), and made her way to the elevators. There was no need to stay till five. McIntyre and Jones, Publishers; had gotten their pound of flesh from her, and they weren’t getting an ounce more, even if she could easily spare it.
Pressing the down button she watched the numbers blink as the elevator descended from the upper office floors. Others in the company passed her without a word. Was she the only one who’d been let go? Screw them, she thought, screw them all.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the nice little man who brought her mail each day coming down the hallway. Kit took a deep breath and pasted the biggest smile she could manage under the circumstances on her face.
“Hi Jim.” she said brightly.
“Hi” he replied with a slightly odd look.
Kit purposely ignored it. “It’s my last day.” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “Just wanted to say, it’s been great working with you.”
“Yeah. Same to you.” he stated perfunctorily.
The elevator chimed its arrival. “Well, that’s me.” she smiled. “Bye Jim.”
“Bye Kate.” he said, going on his way.
“It’s Kit.” she said glumly, entering the elevator. Could it get any worse?
CHAPTER 2 - Off on the wrong foot
When the elevator doors closed, Kit retreated to the corner with her eyes shut tight. The way her luck was going, it would be amazing if it didn’t plunge to the basement. No, that was too messy and newsworthy for someone as inconsequential as her.
With her luck, it was much more likely to get stuck mid-floor, and have no-one miss her. And twenty years from now, they would find her dried up remains with only the pen from her mother to identify her. Her mother would say that, although Kit had been “the apple of her eye”, that she wasn’t surprised that she’d “kicked the bucket”, and that it served her right for coming to the city to live “high on the hog”.
> Kit felt the doors open and she opened one eye to see whether they’d hit the mezzanine yet. Nope, floor ten.
A dark blue suit entered, and as elevator law dictated, faced front and center awaiting his departure point. I wonder why everyone does that, Kit thought. She’d love to, for once, get in an elevator and stand with her back to the doors, and freak everyone out. Yeah, in her next life she’d definitely do that.
Kit sighed loudly. Way too loudly. Apparently she was invisible, but not mute; because the suit turned around.
“Bad day?” he enquired with a smile.
Wow. He could see her. Her cloak of invisibility had vanished. Was that even possible? And she could see him too; all too clearly.
Well, well, well. If it wasn’t Mr. Jeffrey Jones, heir apparent and junior partner at McIntyre and Jones; the lovely people who had just told her to hit the road.
“Yep.” Kit replied shortly. “You could say I’ve had one dandy, rooting-tooting, doozy of a day, Mr. Jones.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” he said, obviously thinking he’d hit the jackpot in elevator companions. Kit was sure he was about to turn around and face the doors again, lest he get a ticket from the elevator police, when he hesitated and narrowed his eyes at her. “You know who I am?”
“Of course I do.” Kit rolled her eyes at him sarcastically. “Believe me, Mr. Jones, when you work in an office of mainly women, even a whiff of testosterone in the air is enough to set their tongues wagging, and I might add, their mouths drooling.”
Jeff Jones looked taken aback, and Kit couldn’t be happier. What the hell did she have to lose? He certainly couldn’t fire her, so she continued unabated. “Yes, I must say you’ve brightened many a lonely fact checker and secretary’s day with your presence, walking down the hallway. Tell me, how does it feel to be the office water-cooler pin-up boy?”
“You work for me? Or rather, McIntyre and Jones?” he asked, shifting ever further away from her. Not easy in an four by six box.
“Not anymore.” Kit said with a wry grin.
“O-kay” he said slowly.
Kit bit her lip. It really wasn’t his fault that she’d been canned. The look on his face told her she’d gone from invisible to a little scary in the space of three floors. So she decided to reign in the scary and go for pitiful instead. Maybe playing the pity card could get her job back.
“I’m sorry Mr. Jones.” she stated contritely. “I was let go today, and I guess I’m not handling it all that well. In fact, it just tops off an exceptionally bad week or month, or … year.”
He visibly relaxed at little. “I see” he responded sympathetically. “Well, I apologize we had to let you go. I know we had to make some major labour cuts this quarter. I wish we didn’t have to, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles, I’m afraid. I don’t want to pass the buck, but unfortunately the economy isn’t what it used to be.”
Was he channelling her mother? Kit giggled. I guess my mother doesn’t have the monopoly on idioms, Kit thought. She’d never have thought that someone as tall, dark and scrumptious as Jeffrey Jones would use them so blatantly too. Coming out of his mouth, they almost sounded cool.
“Something funny?” he asked, glaring at her with undisguised crazy-lady fear.
“No. Not really.” Kit started laughing uncontrollably now. “I guess I’m just tired and really, really stressed. I always laugh when I’m stressed and especially when I’m nervous.” Swallowing hard, she tried really hard to stop.
“I hope I don’t make you nervous?”
That made her start up all over again. “You? Oh no, not at all.” Jeffrey Jones’ reputation was well known around the office. She wasn’t even mildly attracted to his type. Rich. Successful. Good looking. Heartbreaker. No way, not for her.
Not that he could possibly be interested in a mousy-haired, neurotic little cubicle dwelling nobody like her. She knew her place; she’d learnt it long ago. The best she could do was big-eared Bob from accounting. No, wait, even he’d found someone more … what did he call it? Ah yes, more engaged in life. There was nothing quite like having an anal-retentive, socially repressed Accountant inform you that you were less engaged in life than he was.
Kit turned her attention back to the man standing in front of her. He was looking at her with a mixture of interest, panic and a good dose of concern for her mental health.
“I know it might sound strange, but I was thinking about my mother. You reminded me of her for a minute.” she answered, raising one eyebrow in mock horror.
Jeff countered by raising both his eyebrows at her. “I remind you of your mother. Nooo. That doesn’t sound strange at all.”
“What you said reminded me of her. You see, I have to tell her that I lost my job. No easy task, I assure you, when it comes to my mother. Like I said, stress; nerves; make me giggle. Hence, my mother makes me act like a hyena.” Kit explained candidly. “You must think I’m crazy!” she added, trying to fight the urge to giggle again.
“The thought never crossed my mind.” he replied starting to grin at her.
“Yeah right.” she shot back him.
They both laughed out loud. Kit could feel her stress level go down a notch. Whoever said “laughter is the best medicine” (probably her mother), was right. She always felt much better after the fact. Maybe things weren’t quite as grim as they seemed. Perhaps her luck was turning around. Could she dare to hope that someone like Jeffrey Jones would fall madly in love with her during a ten floor elevator ride? Who knew? Instead of being the worst day in her life, today could actually be the one where providence smiled on her. I mean really, she told herself, how much worse could it get?
A split second later, the lights went out in the elevator and it ground to an abrupt and screeching halt. With thoughts of hurling to the basement and self-fulfilling prophecies swirling around in her head, Kit grabbed hold of the nearest large, steady object she could latch on to and hung on for dear life.
When the emergency lights came on, she found herself in the arms of Jeffrey Jones, terrified, but oh so snug and content. His strong arms gripped her like a vise, and she could tell he had no intention of letting her go any time soon. That was fine by her.
Man, he smelled good. Felt good too. He may not be her type or a believable prospect in the boyfriend department, but she wasn’t averse to making the best of things, under the circumstances. As he held her in his arms, she couldn’t help but deem that her luck was definitely changing for the better. In fact, Kit had the sneaking suspicion she was about to get real lucky … in an elevator no less.
Jeff groaned in her ear. Oh yeah, lucky indeed. “Oh God. I think I’m going to be sick” he ground out, before falling to his knees.
Or not, Kit thought as he brought her down with him.
“Are you all right?” she asked in a concerned voice, disentangling herself from his grasp. “Is there anything I can do?” With that, Jeff just moaned and put his head between his legs.
“No.” he stammered, breathing heavily in and out. “I’m a little claustrophobic, that’s all. I can usually handle elevators for the few moments it takes to go up and down”, he swallowed hard, “but not this”
“That’s too bad.” Kit said with a grimace, all her dreams of romance ending with one look at Jeffrey Jones’ green face.
Leaving him sprawled on the floor; she dug out the emergency phone and told the disembodied voice on the other end what had happened. Of course, they knew that the elevators weren’t working, as about two thousand building employees were now about to make their way down the fire stairs to head home.
Sitting back down next to him, but not too close in case he actually did hurl, Kit perused Mr. Jeffrey Jones more thoroughly. He seemed like a nice enough guy; dark, wavy brown hair, mesmerizing brown eyes and a body that felt great when holding a girl in his arms. It was amusing to know that the Gods had at least given him some sort of affliction, along with the mind-numbing good looks. Claustrophobia? Who would have thunk it? Sure
it wasn’t a hunchback or cross-eyes, but it showed that even the most perfect looking male specimens had flaws.
Jeff started breathing a little more easily, but was shaking from head to toe. “This is so … so embarrassing.” he confided.
“Nah.” Kit responded playfully.
Raising his chocolaty velvet eyes to hers, he narrowed his gaze at her. “You’re an odd girl” he said simply.
Instead of being insulted, Kit mulled that over. “Yeah, I guess I am” she grinned. “But, believe me, as embarrassment goes, I’m afraid this just doesn’t cut it, Mr. Jones.”
Back to Square One (Brandon Bay Babes) Page 1
