The Surfer Solution

by Cathy Yardley

  At that, Frank grimaced. “What, you want me to grovel? Okay. I’m groveling. I need you to take over this presentation. I need you to get this back on track. I need you to do what you do best!”

  “Which would be what, exactly?” she asked sweetly.

  “Save our collective ass,” he announced. “So. Will you do it?”

  She paused. This was what she wanted—and in a better position than she’d anticipated. “Of course,” she said slowly.

  “Good,” Frank said, relief crossing his face. Then he scowled. “You know how big this is. If you do anything to screw this up or submarine this deal, you know, just because you’re mad at me...”

  At that, she gasped.

  “If you think that I would—” her glare could have flash-frozen fish “—you don’t know me at all.”

  Frank looked satisfied at that. “Okay. I’ll see if I can get somebody to pry Kate out of the bathroom.”

  Allison nodded. Then, she leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes.

  She wasn’t quite ready. She wasn’t expecting this. She had two hours. She could make it work. Then they’d have the presentation, and one way or another, she’d know that at least she’d done her best.

  Of course, if her best included a promotion...

  Sighing, she opened her eyes, only to discover Gary studying her quizzically behind the sheen of his wire-rimmed glasses. “What?” she asked.

  “I could see it,” he marveled. “You went from completely relaxed to tensed like a catapult in under sixty seconds. Weird.”

  The words startled her.

  “So, boss, what’s the game plan? What do we need to do?”

  She was still adjusting, so she bit her lip, her mind suddenly racing. This was what she wanted, right? It was just a matter of a game plan.

  “First, have one of the women tell Kate that I’m taking over. If anything will get her out of the bathroom, it’d be that,” Allison said slowly.

  “Why? Because she doesn’t want you to give the presentation, or because she’s glad the pressure’s off?”

  “Doesn’t matter why. It’ll look bad for the clients to come here and find out we’ve got an ad exec building a barricade in the restroom,” Allison said. “The slides are all taken care of, the presentation’s a lock. I just need a final walkthrough. But honestly, unless Frank and the crew have made any changes, I could probably breeze through that.”

  “Frank made changes,” Gary said.

  Allison closed her eyes. “Of course he did.” She thought about it, then nodded. “So we’re going to just use my slides.”

  Gary’s eyes widened. “You mean, just toss what Frank wanted?”

  She nodded, feeling her heart start to race ever so slightly. “Yup. If he’s in such a jam, we’re going to do this my way.”

  “Wow,” Gary said, his voice dry and sardonic. “Somebody came in wearing her big-girl panties.”

  “Apparently somebody did,” she joked back, even as her palms began to sweat.

  Sean, I wish you were here.

       

  TWO HOURS LATER, she was standing in the conference room. Kate was sitting at the table, looking both disgruntled and relieved. Peter was there, too.. .but he was sitting with three people separating him from Kate. Apparently the stapler death threat was still in effect. Frank had finally settled in a chair—she thought he was going to wear a hole in the carpet from his incessant pacing. The Kibble Tidbits people seemed unaware of the high-nerve situation that pervaded the agency. Allison felt jumpy from the adrenaline, and her heart was still pounding a bit hard. Still, she’d made sure that she got them in the big conference room, for one reason: it had a view of the ocean. She had told Frank that was so she could impress the clients, who were from Denver. The real reason was the calming flashes of blue-green water.

  They were all settled expectantly. They reminded her to a certain extent of her parents on Christmas morning, looking over the gifts of their various children.

  Wrong image. For a flash of a second, she thought, I can’t do this. I can’t possibly, possibly do this. She just wanted to run outside, gulp air, crawl into her car. Drive away.

  She stood up instead, straightening her back.

  She thought of her board. Thought of paddling through the water. Thought, as always, of Sean, a talisman.

  Then she smiled.

  “I’m glad you could make it today,” she said. “We’ve got some ideas that I think your company will find very interesting... Please feel free to ask questions at any time.”

  And just like that, she launched into her presentation. She barely registered Frank’s surprise and disapproval when she veered from his changes and stuck with her own presentation—but he couldn’t say anything, not without showing a divided front to the clients. She hobbled a little when she saw his frown, but then thought of the otters, as she called the boys who went surfing with her.

  It’s just a lull, she told herself. Any grom worth her salt could keep an eye on the weather.

  The clients sat there impassively, not helping her demeanor a whole lot. With little fanfare, she tied up her presentation. They hadn’t asked a single question.

  That normally wasn’t a good sign.

  She took a little breath, gripping her hands together behind her back and keeping her smile bright. “So. Any comments? Anything?”

  The head client, a pretty woman in her forties, looked at the other two, then looked at Allison. “Are you nervous at all?”

  Allison laughed, wondering what exactly she’d done to tip them off, and thinking abruptly that she must’ve screwed up somewhere along the line. “Yes.”

  Frank closed his eyes, and she could’ve sworn she saw him muttering.

  “Well, it doesn’t show at all,” the woman said, admiration clear in her voice. “In fact, that’s the most relaxed presentation we’ve sat through this week—and believe me, we’ve sat through a couple.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Allison said, nonplussed.

  “We’re going to need to discuss this,” the woman said with a knowing smile to her colleagues, “but, well, I think it’s safe to say we feel good about this one.” She paused. “Can I assume that you’d be heading the team if Flashpoint won the business?”

  Allison shot a quick, questioning glance at Frank.

  Frank stood up, his chest puffed out. “Definitely,” he said with feeling. “She would be the account supervisor for the Kibble Tidbits account, you can count on that.”

  Allison felt a wave of relief rush over her, and her knees felt weak. She leaned as subtly as she could against the table she was standing next to.

  The woman nodded. “Excellent. That would have made a difference,” she mused. “You’ll be hearing from us soon. Oh! And Happy New Year.”

  With that, the lot of them shook hands all around and filed out, leaving the building. The team looked at each other, then started to laugh triumphantly.

  “You got us the business, damn it,” Frank said, clapping Allison hard on the back. “You did it!”

  “Congratulations,” Peter said, holding out his hand. Kate did the same, although she looked a little crestfallen.

  “Normally, I’d say don’t count your chickens, but I know this one’s a lock,” Frank said expansively. “Let’s hit the bar. Drinks are on me.”

  “I can’t,” Allison said. “I’ve got a party to go to. Two, actually.”

  And for the first time, she was looking forward to going to her parents’ party. For the first time in a long time, things had worked out perfectly. And then she was going to collect a kiss at midnight, starting the year off right. After all, it was only thanks to Sean and her surf lessons that she had any of this at all.

  “Well, party it up,” Frank said with a grin. “We get this account, and all your butts are mine for the long haul. We’ll have a lot of work to do!”

  There was a ragged cheer.

  “Yay, us,” Allison said. Then looked out at the water.r />
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SEAN LOOKED AROUND his apartment. He hadn’t spent more than five minutes there in the past forty-eight hours, it seemed. Already, Allison’s place was feeling more like home. Probably because he felt at home wherever Allison was, he thought.

  Man, he was turning into a sentimental idiot.

  He glanced at his answering machine. It blinked with three messages. He felt a little knot of tension in his stomach. He got the feeling he knew what at least one of those messages was.

  Just suck it up and get it over with.

  He pressed play. The first message was from Ryan.

  “Sean! Don’t forget you’re on cerveza patrol with me. Two cases of Corona—I’ll pick up the keg. See you at Gabe and Charlotte’s house.”

  Sean smiled at that one. He’d already given Allison directions to the annual party, and she said she’d be there after a brief command performance at her parents’ place. He felt tom about that one: about the fact that she hadn’t invited him, and didn’t seem to even think of it.

  The next message was a bit more painful. “Listen,” Oz’s voice said, crackling with static, “about yesterday. That was bad. It wasn’t how I meant for you to leave at all. Do me a favor—could you call me, or stop by my house, or something? Thanks.”

  Sean deleted that message with a tinge of remorse. It hadn’t ended the way he’d hoped, either. Still, he wasn’t sure what reopening those wounds was going to do to help matters any.

  Finally, the third message. Sean took a deep breath as he recognized the voice.

  “Sean? Hey, it’s Steve, over at Lone Shark.”

  Sean immediately tensed. This. This was the one he was waiting for.

  So just how badly did I botch that interview?

  “I know that the interview didn’t go all that well. Frankly, and I’m just being honest here, I had serious doubts about whether or not you could make it as one of our sales reps.”

  Braced for bad news or not, Sean still winced at that statement. He had really screwed that one up royally.

  “But Gabe felt really strongly about you as a candidate,” Steve persisted.

  Sean’s feelings of discomfort tripled. Oh, man, if he was going to get a pity job offer just because Gabe was twisting this guy’s arm, he was going to call Gabe up and call the whole thing off right here. He never should’ve taken that interview.

  “So I wound up talking to several of the surf-shop owners in the Los Angeles area,” Steve continued. “Turns out you’re a bit of a legend, even outside of the South Bay. People say you could’ve turned pro and hit the tournament-surfing circuit if you’d wanted to. And even though nobody’s surprised that Tubes is going under, all of them said that it would’ve gone under years ago if it weren’t for you.”

  Sean stood next to the counter, his jaw gone slack at that little tidbit.

  “Nobody knows gear or surfing like you. They would all trust you in a heartbeat,” Steve said, and his prerecorded voice laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you got a few other job offers this week, actually.”

  Now Sean was officially gobsmacked.

  “So, before I get beaten to the punch, I’d like to officially extend an offer—forget that trial period. We’d like you to come work here at Lone Shark immediately. Just give me a call.” He left his number, but Sean was still too stunned to jot it down. “I know it’s New Year’s Eve and all, but that number’s my cell, and I’ll answer it all day. Looking forward to hearing from you.”

  With that, Sean’s message machine shut off with a click.

  Feeling a little shaky, Sean sat down on the futon.

  He’d been bracing himself for a change-of-heart speech from Steve, he realized. Gabe would probably have some choice words about his lack of self-esteem, or believing in himself, or some similar attaboy locker room-type pep talk. But it occurred to Sean that his nerves, and his disbelief, had nothing to do with any of that.

  I don’t want the job.

  He’d done everything he could to sabotage it, and get himself out without disappointing Gabe. He’d thought he could go through with it if he had to—he thought it was the only way he could get into a relationship with Allison, by settling his life down. But he had Allison now. There wasn’t any other reason to go on with the charade.

  So now he knew what he felt.

  The only question was, what did he do next?

       

  ALLISON GLANCED at her watch. Eleven o’clock. It was late, especially for her parents, who had been surrounded by people all night long. Still, she knew her presence here was a command performance—she had to be here because her parents had asked to speak to her.

  She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around.

  “Haven’t gotten your turn yet, huh?”

  It was her older brother. She smiled weakly, still wary from her last meeting with Rod. “You just getting here?”

  “Just left the office,” he said with a shrug. “And, no, that’s not one-upmanship. We had a New Year’s party to celebrate rolling out the new product line, that’s all.”

  Her grin was bitter. “Gotta give the troops something, huh?”

  He looked at her quizzically. “I don’t follow.”

  “Nothing. Glad to hear you were getting your groove on with your direct reports.” She glanced at her watch again.

  If her parents didn’t acknowledge her in the next fifteen minutes, she was leaving. That would give her about forty- five minutes to get to Sean. And once she got to him, she’d have a few seconds to do something she’d never done in her life.

  She was going to ring in the new year by kissing her boyfriend. She was going to kiss him from one year straight into the other… and then some.

  She smiled just thinking about it, and checked her watch one more time, in case her rather prurient daydream had lasted, say, fifteen minutes.

  “You’ve got another party you’re going to, I take it,” Rod said, his voice dry and sarcastic. “Either that, or maybe Beth got you a watch for Christmas, too, that I didn’t know about, and you’re just admiring it.”

  She shrugged. “Mom and Dad said that they wanted to talk to me, and I really did want to talk to them, but they’re busy tonight, so I may have to table it,” she said with exaggerated casualness. As if being put on hold by them didn’t hurt. As if the thought of walking out despite the fact that they’d asked for her wasn’t pulling a coup of some sort.

  Rod’s eyebrows jumped up toward his hairline. "They’ll talk to you, of course. They want to talk to you.”

  “How do you know...hey!” she protested as he grabbed her by the elbow and started walking toward their father, who was surrounded by a knot of his business cronies.

  “So I think we’re not going to be able to wait until the second quarter to start pursuing that opportunity.... Oh, hi, Rod,” he said, blinking as Rod tapped him on the shoulder. “You all remember my son and my daughter, don’t you?”

  Allison watched as her brother sent a business-friendly smile to the group, then whispered something in his father’s ear. Her father’s gaze then shot to her, and she felt uncomfortable for no good reason. Glanced at her watch: 11:05.

  Should’ve left when I had the chance.

  “I need to take care of something—family related, you understand,” her father said, excusing himself from his circle. Then he and Rod both flanked her, practically frog-marching her to her mother’s study.

  Oh, hell. This is not going to be good.

  Of course, she had good news, but she got the feeling that unless she mentioned she was promoted to queen of the Netherlands or CEO of the biggest company in the world, she wasn’t going to be getting a lot of traction tonight.

  Damn it! She was going to get kissed at midnight tonight or somebody was damn well going to pay for it.

  Her mother was talking to her editor and her agent.

  “…I’ve got some new ideas for my next book project,” her mother was saying, unt
il she was startled by Allison’s father and brother, and the sudden appearance of her taken- prisoner daughter. “What is it, dear? Is something wrong?”

  “Allison was going to leave,” her father said, and though he was wearing a polite smile for the sake of her mother’s professional guests, he looked disturbed just saying it aloud.

  “But we need to talk to her!” her mother said, sending a surprised glance over at Allison.

  “I know, Mom, but you guys have been so busy,” Allison said, feeling all of twelve years old and being forced to interrupt one of her parents’ fancy dinner parties. She hated that feeling. “Also, I have another party I need to go to.” And that need was building with every passing minute.

  “You know this is important, or we wouldn’t have asked you,” her mother said, her tone faintly reproving.

  “But not so important that you couldn’t stop and talk to me when I first got here,” Allison said, then abruptly shut her mouth as the shock of her own words hit her.

  Allison’s mother reddened, and she turned to her guests, who were already getting up of their own accord. “Won’t you excuse us?”

  They were already whispering murmured assurances even as they beat their feet toward the door, which Rod shut behind them.

  “Allison, I am shocked,” her mother said without preamble.

  “I know, that was rude and I’m sorry,” Allison said. “But you guys did keep me waiting for over three hours.”

  “That was business,” her father chided, his voice sharp.

  She stood up to her full five foot one inch. “And I’m your daughter,” she said in a voice of challenge.

  If Rod’s eyes widened much more, she thought, they’d pop right out of his head.

  “If it were that vital, you could’ve talked to me over the phone, and if you can keep me waiting while you talk business, then it’s not life threatening. We could’ve discussed it tomorrow over lunch or something,” Allison said, her voice only very barely conciliatory.