I walked around the table as I spoke and noticed Claire tapping her red pen on her notepad. I glanced at it. You’re scaring them. Tone it down.
Placing a hand on Claire’s shoulder briefly, I continued. “That doesn’t mean we have to change our core principle. We’ll still deliver the news, and we’ll still do it the Colorado way. But I want people to notice us and to talk about us. I know I said paper is dead and that may be a terrifying thought for you.” I paused. “I’m not trying to scare anyone. I’m being realistic. This is an exciting time. We get to reinvent this company and still hold true to what has made this business a part of the community for the past seventy-five years.”
“And who’ll be in charge of this Twitter campaign? I have my hands full with the news.” Darrell’s body language was declaring war.
“I’ve assigned a team, with Claire and Avery in charge. By the end of the week, I want them to decide who our official tweeter should be. People on our news staff can keep their Twitter accounts, but I do want someone to be our go-to person for the paper’s account.”
There was murmuring. Claire did her best to prevent her jaw from hitting the floor. I hadn’t informed her about this new responsibility.
Hopefully my message was clear. Darrell would not be in charge of any of the new changes at the paper. He would be following orders from now on, not dictating them.
“Claire—she’s in advertising!” shouted Darrell.
“Exactly! And it’s advertising that’s keeping this paper afloat.” I refused to back down and let Darrell intimidate me. “We’ll have some members from your staff on the team, but Claire and Avery will be in charge.”
Darrell looked at his watch. “I have to go.” He stood and scooped up his pencil and pad in one vicious swipe.
“Just a second, Darrell. Let’s have a quick word outside.” I motioned for him to step into the hall. Intentionally, I didn’t completely close the door. “Do you have any time later today to have a meeting? Just the two of us?”
“Today?” Darrell scratched his chin arrogantly. “Nope. My son has a recital at school.” He started to push by me.
I blocked his way. At first I was going to insist that Darrell miss the recital. But then I remembered most of the people on staff had children, and that wouldn’t set the right tone. And didn’t Claire mention that her son had a recital today as well? I couldn’t have one rule in place for Claire and another for the rest of the staff.
“Tomorrow, then. What time can you meet?” I smiled sweetly even though my tone said it wasn’t a request.
“Can’t. Meetings all day.” Darrell smiled confidently.
“No worries, I arrive early each day. What time do you arrive?”
“Eight, but like I said, I have meetings all day.” Again he started to move down the hallway.
“Fine, let’s meet at seven,” I called after him.
Darrell whipped around to stare me down. “Seven? I’m here till eight most evenings.” Darrell’s shrill tone made it clear I had struck a nerve. All I needed to do was to give him one more shove.
“I can clear up your evenings and your days, if you’d like.” I crossed my arms, showing him that I wasn’t going to back down.
“You can’t.” He stumbled back. “I’ve been here for thirty years.” His voice no longer indicated he was confident in his position.
“Try me, Darrell. Try me.” With that I left him sputtering in the hallway and rejoined the group in the conference room. I didn’t have to look around to see that everyone had overheard the conversation. The buzz in the room was clear enough. That was even better than the cartoons in the bathroom stalls would have been. Not that the cartoon option was off the table.
“Now where were we?” I asked.
Every single person plastered a fake smile on their faces. Except for Claire. And they started to put ideas on the table. Most were terrible, but they were trying. That was all I wanted. For them to start thinking of new ideas. Get Darrell’s way out of their head. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Claire stayed mute for most of it and that worried me.
At the end of the meeting, everyone was laughing and enjoying the pizza I’d ordered. The whole Darrell debacle was yesterday’s news.
“Thanks, everyone. Let’s meet again next week and see where we are. And remember to share any ideas you have with Claire and Avery.” I motioned to both women.
People started to filter out of the conference room. Only Avery and Claire remained. Avery was too busy reading her Blackberry to notice that Claire wanted to speak to me in private.
“Avery would you mind getting some files for me?” I asked.
Avery looked up and saw right away why I made the request. “Yes, of course.” My assistant left without asking which files I needed. I liked that about her.
Claire sucked in some air and let it out slowly. “You have no idea what you accomplished today.”
I knew Claire was referring to Darrell, and I wasn’t in the least bit intimidated by the editor. But Claire was agitated, and I wanted to find out why.
“Do you like your new role?” I leaned against the table.
“I’m not talking about that.”
“I am. Do you?”
Claire ran a hand through her reddish-brown hair, her tell that she was flustered. “Well, yes, I think it’ll be exciting, but do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Her eyes grew large.
I felt my determination ooze onto the floor. What was bothering her? “What I had to do. I don’t enjoy playing the bitch, but let’s just say that was part of the game plan corporate put together before I arrived.”
Claire stepped back and then nodded curtly. “I see. So there will be layoffs, even though all the talk has been that there won’t be.”
“Not if I can help it. Some people here don’t want to change, but we have to.”
“You don’t know the full story.” Claire’s voice bordered on pleading.
“I’m all ears. Please tell me.” I patted the table next to me.
Claire looked around nervously. “Not here. I’ll text you on your cell.”
My cell. My private cell. The news didn’t have to do with the company, but with Claire. I was intrigued and hesitant. How was she connected to Darrell? Most here didn’t like the man. I hadn’t seen them working together. My gut told me I was missing the obvious, but my brain was clueless.
“Sounds good.” I kept my voice steady and positive, just in case others were listening. “I have some books for you and your new team to read. Avery will bring them down for you. Please let me know what else you need.” I placed a hand on Claire’s shoulder and stroked her neck with a finger. I could see some of her tension melt. “All of us are in this together.” I let my hand linger for a moment, before retreating to the staircase.
Ten minutes later, I received a text from Claire asking me to come by her house that night around eight. Very intriguing.
* * *
I parked my car on the street in front of Claire’s house. My bravado was disappearing faster than a piece of thin tissue paper in the rain. Earlier I had convinced myself that I could handle seeing Claire in her home with her son, Ian. But how would I handle seeing her in a life that didn’t include me? It wasn’t like I hadn’t gone on with my life after that night. So had Claire, of course. She was the director of advertising. Had a son. A nice house. Could I fit into her life?
Claire stepped out front and waved, looking happy and completely relaxed. I wish I could’ve said the same.
I pretended I was on the phone and not terrified of coming inside. I motioned just a minute and jabbered into my Blackberry, not speaking to anyone.
Smooth, JJ. Real smooth.
The time for stalling was over, and I got out of my car and tentatively approached Claire. I felt like I was in a slow-motion movie scene right before someone approached a coffin in the funeral parlor to discover their own body in the casket.
Cl
aire waited patiently until I was in arm’s length. She pulled me to her and kissed my cheek, followed by an affectionate squeeze. A lover’s squeeze, not a best friend one.
Inside I was freaking out. “Hello.” My tone was businesslike.
Claire swatted my arm. “Work’s over, JJ. Loosen up.” Then she took my hand and led me into her home. Claire continued to clutch my hand and didn’t let go until we were in the kitchen. Then she kissed me passionately.
I shuffled back, shocked. “Uh, where’s Ian?”
Claire laughed. “Relax. Ian’s in his room, playing a video game. What’s wrong with you?” Claire turned and grabbed a bottle of wine. “Would you mind opening this while I finish preparing dinner?”
Claire opened the oven and pulled out a lasagna, which obviously was store-bought.
“I see you still don’t cook,” I teased as I inserted the corkscrew. Deftly, I uncorked the wine and poured a glass for Claire. I hoped she would get the hint and not ask why I wasn’t having a glass.
“Earth to JJ. The wine is for both of us.” Claire pushed a glass toward me. “I cook occasionally, but not usually on work nights. Who has the time?” She shrugged and motioned to the empty wineglass again.
“That’s okay. I’m not much of a wine drinker.” Immediately the color rushed to my face, tattling on me that I was lying.
“Since when?” Her puzzled face showed concern.
“Uh …” I rubbed the back of my neck, which was tightening, and I wondered if I looked like someone who would rather jump off a hundred-foot cliff than answer the question.
Realization spread across Claire’s face. “Does it have something to do with your tattoo?”
“You can say that.”
“Well, what would you like? I have Coke, Dr. Pepper, and sparkling water.” Claire’s demeanor indicated she wasn’t going to push me on the issue. Not right now at least.
“Sparkling water would be great.”
Claire pulled a plastic green bottle out of the fridge and poured it into my empty wineglass. “Grab your drink and plate. Let’s eat in the dining room. Might as well use it at least once this year.” She winked at me. All the tension she’d displayed after the meeting was gone.
The room was dark and clearly unused. Claire had set the table in anticipation of tonight’s meal but didn’t have enough time to make it look lived in.
“Is it just the two of us?” I asked.
“Yeah, Ian ate earlier. He’s on a fish sticks and mac and cheese kick at the moment. And while this”—she motioned to the lasagna—“doesn’t count as gourmet, I couldn’t subject you to fish sticks.”
We ate in silence. Claire sipped her wine and studied me. “Can I ask you something?”
Here we go. The alcohol question, I thought. “Sure.” I accidentally turned it into a three-syllable word.
“Why are you so nervous tonight?” She tapped her fingernails against the wineglass.
It wasn’t the question I’d expected. “It’s just weird. Being here in your home.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It just is.”
“Are you afraid of meeting Ian?”
“What? No, of course not. I would love to meet your son.”
“Then what is it? Because this weekend, you weren’t this weird. And earlier today you strutted around in that meeting like you owned the place. What’s wrong?”
I placed a hand on Claire’s. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you afraid I’m going to yell at you?” She wouldn’t let it go.
“No, why? Are you?” I smiled, starting to feel more like myself.
“Maybe.”
“Shall we get to it then? The yelling?” I motioned to Claire to say what she wanted to say.
She paused. “Why did you have to humiliate Darrell like that? In front of all of us?”
“I didn’t want to. That wasn’t my intention this morning when I started the meeting.” Okay, this wasn’t entirely true, but I felt it was best to stay mute on my over-reaching goal.
“You could have handled it differently. And then threatening his job. Really?” She quirked an eyebrow out of disgust.
“There are always sacrificial lambs when a new boss comes to town.” The explanation sounded lame even to me, and she was smart enough to sense there was more to it. Looking back, I realized that maybe I should have handled it better.
“So if it was me who challenged you this morning, would you have acted the same way?”
“What? Of course not. Besides, you wouldn’t do that.”
“Why? Because I’m not brave enough?” Her voice sizzled with irritation.
I set my fork down. “That’s not what I said. You don’t resist change. You brought up Twitter this weekend, in fact. Darrell had to be put in his place. He caused major problems for the previous corporate guy, and I had been warned to reel him in and quick. Not everything I do is my idea. I have bosses who know everything I do. Do you think Avery is just my assistant?”
“Are you suggesting Avery is a spy for corporate?” Claire laughed, and then stopped when she saw I wasn’t kidding.
“Maybe yes. Maybe no. But corporate has eyes and ears everywhere.”
“And what’s your proof?” I could tell by her eyes she wasn’t buying it.
“Because I was once an Avery,” I confessed, feeling smaller than an ant.
Claire pushed her chair back from the table. She hadn’t touched much of her meal. “Is that how you advanced so quickly? You were a mole?”
“It wasn’t the only reason. But I proved early on I could be trusted and that I could toe the party line. Business is business, Claire. It’s hardly ever pretty.”
“And that’s that. No gray areas.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Why are you fixated on this? Darrell is a shitty editor. He’s driven the news department into the ground. It’s not just corporate that thinks that. Many of your peers have pleaded with us to get rid of him.”
“I don’t want him to go.”
“The decision isn’t yours to make.” My voice was firm.
“And what if I say don’t do it?”
“You aren’t my boss.” I stared at her without blinking.
“So I don’t have a say in anything that happens at the paper? Is that what you’re telling me?” She threw her napkin on top of her plate.
“You have a say in what happens in your department. You are not on the news floor.” It was hard to control my annoyance. Why was she fighting me on this?
“And you have a say over everything. The rest of us peons should just toe the line.”
I sighed heavily. “What’s this really about? Me? My management style? I have to act tough. Do you know what it’s like being a female in charge?”
“Do I know what it’s like?” She plunked her wineglass. “I run the advertising department. Most of the sales reps are men. Of course I get it.”
“Then why are you fighting me on this? What’s Darrell to you?”
“He’s Ian’s father,” she blurted out and then rushed out of the room.
I sat at the table, thunderstruck. Ian’s father. Were Darrell and Claire lovers? Married? Divorced?
Getting up from the table, I walked through the home, searching for her. Stumbling over some Legos in the family room, I bumped into a bookshelf and saw photos of Claire. Of Ian. Claire’s parents. Claire and Ian together. But there were no photos of men, except Claire’s father. No Darrell.
A flash on the back deck caught my attention. I opened the door and found Claire sitting on a wicker couch, smoking angrily.
I reached for Claire’s cigarettes and lit one. “I think I’m missing something,” I said after exhaling.
“Just one thing?” Claire hissed.
“Are you and Darrell a couple?”
Claire took a drag on her cigarette. “Nope.” Smoke swirled out of her nostrils.
“S
o you and Darrell?” I wasn’t sure how to proceed with caution. Did they have an office fling? A serious relationship? It was hard to phrase a question without letting my feelings be known. Darrell was the last person I would have thought Claire would be with. Not only was he stodgy, but he was ten years older, albeit he did take great care of himself. For an older man, he could be considered a catch if he got rid of his ridiculous glasses and bad attitude.
“We used to be friends. Have drinks. Talk. Commiserate. Darrell was going through a difficult divorce. I had recently ended yet another pointless relationship. We got drunk one night, hooked up, and …”
“And Ian.” I filled in the blank.
“And Ian. Darrell wanted to marry me. Make an honest woman of me, but I didn’t love him like that.” Claire stubbed out her cigarette and lit another. “I couldn’t do that to Darrell. And not to Ian. My son is my whole world.”
I nodded, finally understanding.
“I know you think Darrell is an ass.” She put a hand up to silence me. “Everyone does these days. But you didn’t know him back then. Before his divorce he was quite charming, funny, and sweet. His ex-wife did a number on him. He was madly in love with her, but she had an affair and turned his kids against him, filling their heads with lies. They still don’t talk to him.
“Darrell makes child support payments. Spends some weeknights and every other weekend with Ian. Never misses any of his recitals or other things most men in his position would be too busy for. Hell, he even attended Lamaze classes with me. He’s a good father. You may not respect him at work, but he’s a good man. A decent, kind man who adores Ian. Given the situation, I couldn’t have hoped for a better father for my son.”
I stared hard into the darkness behind her house, wishing I could disappear in the void.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Claire didn’t try to hide her frustration.
“Okay. I get it. Can you help me find a way to get through to Darrell? He can’t try to humiliate me in meetings and act like he’s still in charge.”
“He has been in charge. For years he ran the paper. We didn’t have bigwigs from corporate bossing us around.” She was defending him, but I sensed from her body language she wasn’t his biggest fan at work. Claire was both a realist and an idealist.
The Miracle Girl Page 8
