by Landra Graf
“Then hopefully this little session will help you too,” Dev replied.
Theresa laughed, turning away and walking towards another group of women on the other side of the room. “Good luck with that.”
“No negative attitudes, remember?” Dev brought his focus back to Kat and flashed her the mega-watt smile. “Victoria was originally going to do the interview piece, but personal business kept her away. I’m so glad you could come instead, Kat.”
“Do you do these types of things often?” She wanted to know more.
“Bona Fide makes donations to the local shelter often. We’ve also secured several donations from local businesses. I got roped into this because the previous person who was in charge of the job-skills sessions quit.”
Interesting. And now Dev made her rethink where she stood. The man in front of her appeared to be an advocate for women when he wasn’t getting paid for it. She couldn’t reconcile this side of him with the man in an intimate conversation with Purple People Eater. Someone associated with a greedy, vicious woman like Pru wouldn’t give his spare time to help a bunch of women who came from bad situations. Would he?
“Mr. Dev, are they really going to ask us how we handle confrontation?” a woman from the back row asked.
“We’re going to cover that in just a minute,” he replied before looking at Kat. “What do you say? Do you have time to help me with this? Afterward, I’ll explain things.”
She nodded in agreement.
“Great. Can you take a seat at the front of the room?”
“Sure.” Kat walked to the front and sat down. “Hi, I’m here to interview for a job.”
All eyes focused on her. Dev came up and took a seat across from her. The usual butterflies she’d get in an interview setting popped up in her stomach, fluttering like mad. She shouldn’t have been nervous. He clicked a button on his computer and questions lit up a screen behind them. Kat glanced at it and immediately wished for some sort of impeccable wisdom.
“Are you nervous?” Dev leaned over toward her.
She peered at him and gave a sheepish smile. “A bit.”
“That’s okay. Remember, no wrong answer.”
Then they began. The questions were typical, standard things. Tell him a little bit about herself. Why did she leave her previous place of employment?
“What if we don’t have a previous place of employment,” one attendee asked.
Kat immediately started her answer over, stating it how she would have right out of high school. That earned her a beaming smile from Theresa, who’d taken up a seat near the back of the group. Questions moved into skills, her best ones and her worst.
“Can I say cooking for a deadbeat as a skill?” one of the women asked jokingly.
“Cooking, yes. Leave the deadbeat out of it,” Dev replied.
Everyone laughed, and the woman did too. The best part about this experience so far was the women. They could’ve fallen apart after being beaten down or, in some cases, abandoned. But based on the little bits they were sharing through questions, they were stronger than many people she knew. She silently thanked her parents for leaving her with her gran and giving her a chance at a positive future. It still hurt that they didn’t want to be with her, didn’t want to be responsible for shaping her into an adult.
Another half hour later and each attendee had either asked a question about the interview or volunteered to answer one of the questions.
“All right ladies. You’ve successfully gotten the interview basics. It’s time to start applying for jobs. We’ll be holding another session with some laptops for you to use to apply at a later date. Appreciate everyone who showed up and spoke up. Have a wonderful evening.”
Then they filed out the door, one-by-one. Rose, the one without the phone number, approached Kat. “You mentioned in your answer on handling a confrontation that you’d record the incident in an email and send it to HR. I did that once and it got me fired; of course that was over ten years ago. Is it really different now in the corporate world?”
“I believe it depends on the people and the culture of the company. Remember it’s okay to ask the interviewer what you just asked me. Things that are important to you and your safety should be the highest priority.” Those were the best words she could muster, and she sent up a silent prayer to the universe that Rose got a shot with a good job. The small grin Kat earned for her response made her want to do this more, maybe take some training and help out in another capacity.
“Thank you both.” Theresa pushed off from her position leaning against the wall at the back of the room. “This is going to keep the excitement rolling. When do you think we should do the job-applying session?”
Dev closed down his laptop and slid it into a brown leather briefcase. “I’m not sure. I’ll check my calendar and have Victoria send you something, but we’ll try to keep it to within two weeks from now. Don’t want them to get cold feet applying for jobs; all those fancy descriptive words and dozens of application pages can make the process seem daunting.”
Daunting was one word to describe it. It’d be easy to get a bit nervous and overwhelmed applying for jobs where no one met you in person beforehand and where your future relied on blind hope that someone would give you a chance. If she didn’t get the money to fix the house, this could be her in a few months—without a home and relying on the kindness of strangers.
Theresa left them to drive a van with some of the women back to the shelter. Dev continued to pack up and get his things ready, and that’s when Kat decided to start asking questions about this strange day and yesterday.
“How long have you been helping the shelter?”
He looked up and pulled the briefcase onto his shoulder by the shoulder strap. “At least eight months. I’ve been donating money to the charity for over a year.”
“It’s really sweet of you, what you’re doing for them.”
“I wish I could say I started it, but it was Pru who got the whole thing going.”
She looked back up at Dev and contemplated giving him a chance to provide excuses, to take back those words. She couldn’t believe a person willing to steal her house would want to help the women here.
“Hard to believe, I know. She wasn’t always so ruthless or driven, but it makes no excuse for whatever trouble she is causing you now.”
“It’s not your job to excuse her or justify anything she does.”
He shook his head. “But it’s my fault.”
The word “no” rested on the tip of her tongue because brown-eyed devils were no good. She shouldn’t let him take the blame for someone else and try and defuse her anger. “Is that why you brought me here? To show me another one of her projects, to try to make me less upset with the idea of her stealing my house because at some point she was like me—like them?”
“No, not at all. I brought you here because I thought you’d enjoy helping out. That helpless feeling you have rolling around inside you, the part of you stuck in some limbo waiting for money, contractors, and inspections—I’m familiar with it. Right now, my company is in a similar state. The way to fight it, the helplessness, is to do something. Helping the women is one way. It’s forward progress and lifts me up a bit. I figured maybe it would do the same for you.”
Damn him for his instincts and ability to see she was struggling and needing something to get her refocused. How could she stay mad at him? The same way she could refuse to talk to her parents or encourage them to visit, by remembering the sting of being left behind and forgotten.
“You’re right; helping today took my mind off things. I didn’t have time to worry about me because they needed my focus, but that’s not why I originally came down here. You said you’d explain things, and I’ll give you five minutes before I head home.”
Dev reached both hands up to tweak his ponytail. “That’s not much time.”
“Then I suggest you don’t waste it.”
Dev sent silent gracias a Dios for getting a chance to ta
lk to Kat, to explain. He’d tossed and turned the night away. Nightmares of Kat’s devastated face as she lost her house and handed over the keys to a grinning Pru. He’d gambled by inviting her to the pop-up, but his instincts had paid off. Now he had a chance to learn more, to figure out if his idea would benefit her, help her.
“Clock’s ticking, start talking.” She stood with arms crossed, giving her best impression of a hard ass. He believed she would stick to her limits. This was his one shot.
“Fine, do you mind if I sit?”
His request was met with a sigh and roll of her eyes. “Sure.”
“Thank you, it’s been a long day. Between my morning run and then this, I’m wiped.”
“How many miles?” She sounded concerned, which shouldn’t affect him at all, but it did.
“About five, it’s the easiest way to organize my thoughts.”
He didn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes as she replied, “When I’m stressed, I eat. In fact, multiple donuts met their demise this morning, and the remnants of a large pizza suffered at my hands over lunch.”
Maybe she expected him to be appalled, turned off. There were a multitude of responses he could probably hang himself with. Instead, he settled with, “To each their own. You wouldn’t happen to like jelly-filled donuts, would you? I’d love to sink my teeth into one of those.”
“I didn’t think your altar of a body accepted fried pastry sacrifices?”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“You’re running out of minutes. Wasting them with your megawatt smile isn’t going to make me give you more time. I’d say you have three left.”
“My megawatt what?” They were bordering on yesterday’s territory, stolen kisses and attraction better left for dead like the road kill he’d seen on his jogging route that morning.
She swore some profanity under her breath then replied, “The smile, you turn it on and blow away any rational thought in the room.”
“Sounds like some sort of superpower.” Maybe he should use it all the time.
“Or you’re a male siren. Is this really what you wanted to discuss with me?” A pink tint stole over her cheeks, reminding him of his desire to see if her blush spread to other parts of her body.
Except he needed to stay focused. “I want to talk about yesterday. To explain how Pru and I know each other.”
“Why?”
He finally sat down in one of the chairs, keeping his rear on the edge of the seat. This whole conversation would be awkward as hell, but he had a plan and had spent too much time thinking it up to stop now. “Let me explain how we know each other, and then I’ll give you the why.”
Nodding in agreement, Kat took up a position in another chair one row away from him.
“Pru and I met when Bona Fide was renting out a storefront in the Fayetteville Mall. She’d recently become a widow, and at the recommendation of a close family friend she came to my business hoping for a makeover and some assistance in getting past some issues she had with image and self-esteem.
She was in a lot of pain then and skittish. Over a period of several months, I worked with her, found her some additional support—something we do for all our clients who need it—and fell for her.”
Dev waited a moment to let his confession sink in, the truth of his feelings for a woman he’d grown to view with apathy and pity.
“You’re a couple?” The question came laced with venom.
He held up his hands. “‘Were’ is the key word to describe our relationship. We aren’t together anymore, haven’t been for over half a year. Pru helped Bona Fide. She brought in investors to form a board and back our company. Success was finally in our grasp, and we were able to get a true office and more consultants. Business boomed. But our relationship became strained. She turned jealous, vicious, and ruthless, using the things I’d taught her with cruelty in a way that was against everything I believe in.”
“Sounds like PPE.”
“What?”
“Purple People Eater, my nickname for your ex. She wears those ridiculous purple heels—I’ve seen ’em twice—and she acts like a monster.” Kat shrugged her shoulders. “It fits.”
He laughed, loud and proudly. The sound helped clear away the sad and angry emotions invading his brain as he talked about Pru. There were situations he’d remembered, awkward conversations in front of the board, accusations that maybe his relationship with her affected his decision-making.
“So why tell me all this?”
“Because I don’t like what she’s doing to you.” The confession came out readily, honestly.
“I appreciate that, but everyone knows she’s doing something crappy. Problem is I don’t have enough money to solve the problem.”
That’s where she was wrong; Dev had discovered the perfect solution in his Saturday mail.
“I don’t think you need money to solve the problem.”
One skeptical eyebrow went upward and became paired with her telltale frown. “Maybe you don’t get it. My house has been evaluated and found not to code. I fix it, or I lose the house to the city. So cash, a huge influx of it, is the only thing solving this problem.”
With the invite to his solution tucked in his pants pocket, he stood and slipped the glossy card out, extending it. “My idea involves no money and happens in the next two weeks. Take a look.”
“Is it a shot at the lottery or a house makeover?” Kat walked over to him, but she didn’t seem excited. Snatching the invite from his hand, she silently reviewed the contents. “Why would I want to go to a celebration for PPE’s Beautification Board?”
“Because this puts you in front of other people of influence, gives you a chance to plead for your house. I guarantee it takes months to get a house written up for code violations without some pushing and prodding on the right people. Your house got special attention because she knew which people to lean on. I want to level your playing field.”
She shook her head. “My time would be better spent on the work around here. Talking to a bunch of rich, stuck-up people won’t get me anywhere.”
“Have you tried?”
“No.”
“Then you’ll never know. I happen to be familiar with the majority of them since this project was in its initial stages back when Pru and I were dating. You’d have access to insider knowledge, and I know for certain several of them weren’t always rich.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute or so, glancing between him and the invite. He wanted her to say yes, not only for herself, but for him. The whole thing smacked of a chance, a challenge. One he could win.
“I still don’t understand why?”
“To right wrongs. Pru has put my hard work to action in ways I never intended. This is my chance to redeem myself and, hopefully, save your house.”
She laughed. “Righting wrongs by sending me into a den of people with my blunt mouth. That’s dangerous.”
“I have confidence in you.”
“You’re the only one.” She had to stop that, so he leaned in and put his index finger under her chin, coaxing her to look at him. She did.
“First, stop putting yourself down. I’ve seen proof over the last couple weeks that you can learn. You’ve got potential. This isn’t about changing you; it’s about taking the rough diamond and adding a little polish. Besides, you said I had superhero capabilities. This would be a way I could use those powers for good.”
He liked peering into her blue eyes, getting lost in them. For half a second he forgot his message and smiled like a damn fool.
“Quit doing that.” She took two steps backward, putting distance between them. Necessary, but he didn’t want it.
“What?”
Her focus back on the invite, she mumbled, “Megawatt smile.”
“What about this one?” He took a step closer and let his smile turn feral with all the heat and longing he had for her—dangerous, but worth it.
“Distracting,” she replied, o
nly glancing up for a millisecond.
Wet-panties distracting? He wanted to verbalize his thought, but it crossed over the invisible line of professionalism they needed to maintain, at least for now. Instead, he stood up and closed the gap between them, watching her flush. “I can teach you both of them and when to deploy each smile.”
“What will they get me?” She whispered her question, intensifying the tension. He’d be a mess if they kept up this game.
“If everything goes according to plan, your house, and after that, you can use them whenever you want.” His turn to put some distance between them. The steps stretched their connection but didn’t break it, temporarily putting a stop to their ongoing game of cat and mouse. Too bad he didn’t know which player he was. “Are you in?”
“It’s two weeks away.”
“Don’t worry about time; we can make this work. I’ll come over evenings if needed. We can also pull some lunch sessions at the office.”
A shake of her head in the no direction. “If PPE is on your investor board, I’d prefer not to go anywhere that creates a chance we’ll run into each other. As far as she knows, I’m done with you as of yesterday. Can we keep this between us?”
“If you’d prefer.” Funny how this woman had a near-mercenary mind.
“Then I’m in.” She stuck out her hand. “Shake on it?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I forced you into this.” He didn’t want her to feel cheated or go crazy if this didn’t work, so he had to ask.
He cringed when she replied.
“I’m sure. I’m going to trust you and your story… for now.”
12
“I wouldn’t step foot in there if you paid me to.” Kat shook her head vehemently and took a step off the sidewalk, heading back to the passenger side of Dev’s car.
It had been almost a week, and she’d followed all his other homework assignments. He’d promised to see her Saturday—today—and review things to strategize for the party coming up the following week. He’d mentioned grabbing lunch, and she’d agreed, but instead he led her into a trap. A big trap with the word “salon” involved.
