Not Quite Perfect (Oakland Hills Book 3)

by Gretchen Galway

  Jennifer’s tone turned warm, best-friends-forever. “You would’ve. You totally would’ve. You’re amazing.”

  “But Rita was on family leave,” Bev said.

  “I know, and it was such a tragedy.” Jennifer reached out and squeezed Rita’s arm.

  “Not at all.” Rita leaned back in her chair, but her arm was still captured in Jennifer’s grasp. “Both of my children are back in school now.”

  “I mean it was a tragedy you were out so long,” Jennifer said.

  Rita freed her arm, her fair cheeks flushing a splotchy pink. “Actually, I chose to extend my leave so I could spend some healthy time with them. I’m a single mom, so there’s never enough time, and when my youngest got better—” She cut herself off and looked at Bev, then Liam. “Anyway, thanks for letting me do that.”

  “You were on vacation?” Jennifer asked. “How long have your kids been back in school?”

  Rita’s face was still flushed. “No, I was—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” Bev said. “I’m sure Jennifer wouldn’t want to discuss her personal matters in the middle of a design meeting.” She gave Jennifer a smile that wasn’t as beaming as her usual expression. Zack detected lightly veiled disgust.

  “But we were totally screwed without her.” Jennifer flung out her arm, jabbing a finger at the graph on the wall. “Look how much it cost the company to rely on somebody who didn’t know what she was doing! I’m sure there isn’t a page in this presentation that talks about that little problem.”

  With a toss of her gorgeous, sexy, wonderful head, April clicked to the next slide. “Although I disagree with the claim that I’m unqualified, I did think it was good to show how much all that busywork cost the company. I’ve made a few charts with the monthly invoices and total workload for all freelancers—again, broken up by division.”

  The first chart showed the Women’s team was responsible for over ninety-six percent of April’s billed hours. The second showed that she was paid a third less, and considering most of her days were part-time, she did twice as much as the average freelancers who had worked the year before her.

  April shook her head sadly. “I had no idea I wasn’t charging enough by the hour. I’ll remedy that in my next job.” She lifted her head and held Zack’s gaze. “Wherever it is.”

  Chapter 33

  ZACK’S HEART JUMPED INTO HIS throat. Wherever it is?

  “San Francisco just can’t compete with New York,” April said. “In terms of opportunities.”

  Liam looked at Zack for a moment, then back to April. “Sometimes you just have to go for it.” His tone was bland.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” April said.

  Zack dug his fingernails into his leather notebook, aware his own face had turned hot. He had to grit his teeth to stop himself from shouting out.

  She’d changed her mind about following him to New York. Even though he’d left her without a word, even though she’d have to give up her family and friends, everything she’d known.

  “You’d certainly do well there,” Zack said, his heart pounding in his ears. “But I’d miss working with you.”

  “Your job at Fite is almost over anyway,” she said.

  “That’s true,” he said, not caring that the rest of the room hung on their every word, heads swiveling back and forth like a crowd at Wimbledon. “In fact, I’ve just signed on with a new client in San Francisco. I start next week.”

  Her voice rose. “San Francisco?”

  Nodding, he put his notebook on the table and reached for one of the cinnamon buns jutting out of a cardboard box, hoping nobody noticed how his hand shook. He wanted to grab her instead and run out of the room, but she needed to bring her meeting to a triumphant conclusion first.

  Pointing the bun at her, he said, “Sorry to interrupt. Please continue.”

  She stared blankly. The sound of Jennifer’s annoyance—sighs, snorts, seat-shifting—filled the room.

  “I’d love to see the rest of the slideshow,” Rita said.

  April didn’t break eye contact with Zack. “I could email it to you, Rita.”

  Bev reached over the table and tapped a button on the laptop. “As long as we’re all here…”

  Lost in April’s eyes, Zack smiled, happiness flooding him. He wouldn’t mind having Bev as a sister-in-law. She was nice. Not as nice as April, who had mastered a totally different, superior-in-every-way kind of nice, but just fine.

  He was getting ahead of himself. Just because April was willing to move to New York didn’t mean she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, bear his children, sign a marriage certificate. She was a free spirit. She might want to keep him as her personal sex slave, and only that until she grew tired of him.

  No, she loved him. He felt it.

  Liam’s low voice broke into his thoughts. “Tell us about this chart, April.”

  Finally, she turned away from Zack. “Oh, this one shows the percentage of designs requested of the art room that actually make it into production and into stores.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Liam said, leaning back in his chair, eyes scanning the room.

  None of the departments had very high production rates—the highest was for Men’s, at 56 percent—but Women’s was staggeringly low.

  “Eight percent?” Bev asked. “In other words, ninety-two percent of what the art room is doing for the Women’s team doesn’t go anywhere?”

  Jennifer’s voice rose. “That’s garment. That’s how it always is. Everywhere.”

  “Actually,” Zack said, “the data here shows quite the opposite. Look at last year. Much better, by at least half. Or the Men’s division—”

  “Men’s is always like that,” Jennifer said. “Black, charcoal gray, a few stripes, a pop color that’s on trend, the end. Darrin could run the same line year after year and nobody would notice.”

  Clearly enjoying the show, Darrin popped a blueberry scone into his mouth. “I wish. I tried that once, but Liam caught on.” He smiled at Liam. “Smart man.”

  “Suck-up,” Liam muttered.

  “It wasn’t too bad before I went out on leave,” Rita said, “but it did seem to me, Jennifer, that you were giving April an especially hard time.”

  “Why are you singling me out?” Jennifer demanded. “It’s Teegan’s name on most of those project requests. Not mine. I never worked directly with her.”

  Until now, Teegan had sat with her mouth shut and her eyes wide. “But you told me to give her a hard time—”

  “It has been impossible to get decent design assistants in this company,” Jennifer said. “We’re too small, too pathetic, and we don’t pay nearly enough.”

  “Can’t afford to if we spend all our money on work that goes into the recycling bin,” Liam said.

  Teegan was visibly close to bursting, her mouth opening and closing like a broken garage door. “I—I—I was only doing what she told me.” Her wild gaze scanned the crowd, settling, to his surprise, on Zack. “You know. You were there. You heard what she was like.”

  “I never heard her talk about the art room,” Zack said with regret. “She always met with you in her office.” And in spite of his repeated requests, Jennifer had always closed the door.

  The overhead fluorescent lighting lit up the tears pooling in Teegan’s eyes. “I can’t believe this.” Her voice cracked.

  “I think maybe we should take a little break,” Bev said, squeezing Teegan’s arm. “How about we go for a walk around the block and you tell me whatever you want to tell me. I’ll listen.”

  Jennifer stood up. “God help us, the preschool teacher is on the case. Is that what it takes to get ahead around here now? A few tears?” She backed up to the door, eyes scanning the group for an ally, finding none. “Maybe I should cry, too.”

  “Go ahead,” April said.

  “I hate this place,” Jennifer said. “I can’t wait to leave.”

  “Turns out we have that in common,” April said.
“We can’t wait for you to leave, either.”

  Jennifer shot her one last hateful glance before striding out of the room. Nobody called out or chased after her.

  Teegan closed the cover on her tablet and hugged it to her chest. “Am I—are you going to fire me?”

  “Let’s go on that walk,” Bev said, gesturing to the door. Teegan nodded, and they went out together.

  Liam stood up and said to Darrin, who was eating a croissant, “How about you get back to work. This isn’t Starbucks.”

  Looking pleased as shit, the Men’s designer stood up. “Ah, Jennifer. She’s been stewing for a while,” he said, licking his fingers. “Talks all the time about how she hates the direction the company’s taken, the bigger sizes, the mainstream silhouettes. She misses Ellen and the old ways. She’s been interviewing for months but thought she might take down your baby sister on the way out as a little bonus. She hates your whole family.”

  Offering April a friendly shrug, he left the room with his assistant carrying his coffee in his wake.

  And then only Liam, Rita, April, and Zack remained.

  Glancing first at Liam, Rita told April, “In case it isn’t obvious, I’d be happy to keep you on. If you’re willing. And if you stay in town. Although your brother might want to hire you as a business consultant instead. You seem to have a knack for numbers.”

  Liam eyed Zack. “You didn’t help her with any of that?”

  April punched him in the shoulder. “Of course he didn’t. Give me a break! How can you never take me seriously?”

  “Years of practice,” Liam said.

  “I did better on my SATs than you did, you booger,” April said.

  “Then why can’t you use grown-up words?” Liam asked.

  “What’s the fun in that?” April asked.

  Zack stood up, ready to start shouting. He’d waited long enough. “April,” he said, his voice low. “Care for a walk?”

  “Big morning for walks, isn’t it?” Rita said, grinning as she walked to the door.

  Liam followed Rita. “Time to get back to work. Mail me the files for that presentation, will you, Ape?”

  Zack didn’t wait until they were gone to capture April’s hand and bring it to his lips.

  “April?” Liam asked.

  Her skin smelled like dry-erase markers and sweet jasmine. Zack dropped kisses along the knuckles.

  Liam cleared his throat.

  “Get lost, Liam,” Zack said, looking up into April’s eyes.

  * * *

  Zack’s kisses sent shivers up her arm, down her spine, and into her heart, where they collected in a pool of bubbling, overflowing warmth.

  The click of the door as Liam left signaled they were finally alone.

  “I’m sorry I left,” he said.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t follow,” she replied.

  He put his arms around her. “I love you.”

  Tilting her hand to cup his face, she felt the roughness of his whiskers, the heat of his cheek. “I love you, too.”

  It should’ve been hard to say, but it was the easiest thing in the world.

  His eyes closed. He looked as if she’d slapped him. “Thank God.”

  “The job in New York didn’t work out?”

  “Not without you,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

  “What did you tell them?” He felt so good it was hard to listen to what he was saying. “Are you in trouble?”

  “Big trouble. I was hoping you’d visit me in prison.”

  She stretched up against him, fingers tunneling through his hair, and kissed the hollow of his throat. “I totally would.”

  “That’s nice,” he said with a sigh, stroking her bottom. “My life would revolve around our conjugal visits.”

  “How is that different from right now?”

  “So true.” He tilted her chin back and kissed her.

  Crazed with longing and relief, she pushed him against the wall to kiss him back. Covered with a metal grid for hanging presentation boards and clothing designs, it rattled at the impact.

  “Would your brother and sister-in-law mind if we had a conjugal visit right here?” he asked, flipping her around so he was the one pinning her against the grid, caressing her breast over her sweater, sending tendrils of desire to her core.

  “Virginia will scare anyone away.”

  After a hard, probing kiss, he lifted his head and said breathlessly, “I was just kidding. My place?”

  “I want to hear more about how you couldn’t live without me.”

  “I couldn’t live without you,” he said, licking her earlobe.

  “It took me a few days to figure it out, but I finally did.” God, he knew just how to touch her. She arched her head back. “We can move to New York. I mean, I can. You already live there.”

  “Not anymore. I’m here now.”

  “What about your career?” she asked.

  “What about it?”

  “Will you resent me if you crash and burn and lose everything as your years of work go down the drain?”

  He lifted his head. “You know something I don’t?”

  “It’s tough out here. You might not be able to do as well here as you did back east.”

  Smiling, he kissed her forehead. “I’m willing to take that chance. How about you? Can you give up the opportunities in New York? You were right. You’d make more money, have more clients.”

  “Give up leaving Merry and my mom and my brothers and California weather, and everything I know and love except for you?”

  He stroked her lower lip. “Yeah.”

  “I can give it up.” She wiggled against him. “For you.”

  They kissed for another long, dizzy minute until April started unbuttoning his shirt, having convinced herself that Virginia would protect them from interruptions. Brushing her lips across the hair below his collarbone, she inhaled the scent of him, swimming in the flood of her own emotions: gratitude, anticipation, relief, love.

  “Oh, hello there!” Her mother’s voice was like the lifeguard’s whistle, commanding everyone get out of the pool. “Merry and I thought we’d come and offer our support. Are we too late?”

  Reluctantly, April peered around Zack. “Yes.” But Trixie had Merry with her—who, with a green cap and a one-piece red getup, looked like a strawberry with feet.

  Heart squeezing at the thought of leaving her niece just as she was about to crawl, walk, talk, and get even more interesting, April looked up at Zack. “Are you sure you want to live in California? You won’t regret it?”

  “I’m sure.” He kissed her forehead. “I never meant to stay away forever.”

  “What about your wife’s family? You were close to them. They’ll miss you.”

  Her mother cleared her throat. “Are you sure you want to argue with him, sweetheart?”

  “I’ll visit them,” Zack said, catching her by the waist and turning to face the newcomers. “Morning, Mrs. Johnson. Merry Johnson.”

  Her mother grinned. “Call me Mom.”

  Oh, lord, April thought.

  “April did a great job this morning,” Zack said. “You would’ve been proud.”

  April felt her face get hot.

  “I was already proud,” Trixie said.

  God, now I’m going to cry.

  Moving between them, her mother handed Merry over to April, then let out her breath and shook her arms. “She’s going to be a bruiser like her father. Soon I won’t be able to pick her up at all.”

  In spite of her strawberry outfit, Merry smelled like bananas. “You’re still recovering from surgery, you crazy lady,” April said, kissing Merry’s petal-soft cheek. “What are you doing here? And where’s the new nanny?”

  “Merry and I wanted to make sure you two got things figured out,” her mother said. She rubbed her hands together, reached for Merry again. “Looks like you did, so we’ll be going now. See you at the house soon, am I right, Zack?”

  April gave Merry one last kiss, p
ushed her into her mother’s arms, and ushered the pair around the table to the doorway. “Not that soon.”

  “Remember, I can sleep through anything,” her mother said.

  Biting her lip, April waved at Merry—and her mother—before shutting the door between them.

  Zack caught her from behind and pulled her body against his. While his hands explored her breasts, he nibbled on her neck, licking and kissing.

  There was a tap on the door. “April?” Virginia’s voice.

  April covered Zack’s mouth to stop its sucking action so she could answer semi-coherently. “Yes?”

  “We can skip the movie tonight,” Virginia said.

  “Oh! Right!” April gasped as Zack slid a hand under her underwear and squeezed her butt cheek. “Thanks!”

  “You’re welcome,” Zack whispered in her ear.

  “How about next week?” Virginia asked.

  “Great! Wonderful!” April said.

  “I know, aren’t I?” Zack replied, moving his hand around to the front.

  April swallowed a squeal. “I’ll text you!”

  Sounding like she was laughing, Virginia said, “OK. Talk to you later.”

  After a moment, April said to Zack, “I think if we want any privacy, we should probably get out of here.”

  Zack held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissed her on the lips, and smiled the kind of smile that made her wobbly in all the right places. “We can go wherever you want,” he said.

  “Anywhere?”

  He nodded.

  “I just want to be together.” She stretched up against him.

  “Then we’re both very lucky,” he said, stroking her back. “Because that’s exactly where I want to be.”

  Epilogue

  ALTHOUGH THEY’D INITIALLY DECIDED NOT even to discuss marriage until they’d been living together for fully one year—a pact that Zack’s mother would’ve found unthinkable, had she known of it—it turned out that they lasted only four and a half months before the topic reared its veiled-and-tuxedoed head.

  “Maybe we could get married on a boat,” Zack said one evening as he watched TV. They had rented a two-bedroom apartment in Oakland halfway between April’s mother’s house and the BART station. She could visit family and get to work without too much hassle, and her part-time freelance income as a textile designer at Fite and at two new companies more than covered half the rent. She knew he had the bucks to cover a nicer place all by himself, but she made him squirrel that away for their distant future. She needed to feel that this first home was just as much hers as his.