“Can’t you do something?” Jeff asked.
And there it was, the request she’d known had been coming. These reps depended on her for everything. She was their most solid link to the company; she was like their mother. Of course they’d ask for her help.
She chose her words carefully. “I’m not sure what I can do, guys. She’s the boss.”
“You need to tell her that we’re the top-selling region on the East Coast,” Jason said, determination and anger coloring his gaze. “Doesn’t she know that? We make a lot of money for this company. Tell her that.”
Jason was right, but it didn’t make him sound any less obnoxious.
Kylie kept her eyes on her uneaten food.
“Can’t you just talk to her?” Sarah’s voice was softer, less demanding. Sarah’s blond hair, light blue eyes, and knockout figure served her well in the sales field. They also served her well with Kylie.
This time was no exception, as she held Kylie’s gaze and sweetly urged,
“Please. Just ask her to ease up a bit.”
Kylie couldn’t help but relent. “I’ll try,” she answered with a sigh, and murmurs of relief could be heard coming from all three tables.
Kylie had forgotten that the occupants of the other two were probably tuned in to the conversation. “But no promises. Remember, she’s new to me, too, and I have to see her every day. You guys don’t.”
“Sucks to be you,” somebody commented and Kylie pretended not to hear.
“But you’ll talk to her,” Jason confirmed.
“I’ll talk to her.” Kylie looked at her chicken salad, suddenly finding she had no appetite. She sipped her Coke and noted with worry that all three tables were extremely quiet, a very unusual thing for a group of salespeople who liked nothing better than to chatter on endlessly.
Gretchen had certainly done a number on them.
* * *
It was nearly six thirty when Kylie glanced at the doghouse-shaped clock on her desk. “Jesus,” she muttered. She hadn’t noticed the office quieting down or the phones becoming silent.
In the distance, she could hear a vacuum cleaner running—the cleaning staff tidying the conference room. She blinked and rubbed at her tired eyes, thinking not for the first time that she might need to get glasses as a result of all the time she spent staring at the computer monitor. Glancing over her shoulder, through the hallway windows into Gretchen’s office, she could see Gretchen staring at her computer.
Kylie wasn’t surprised. They definitely seemed to be of like minds when it came to working hours. She was already familiar with the routines of her new boss after only a week and a half working with her, and she was beginning to wonder if Gretchen ever did anything besides work. The majority of the time, she was in her office when Kylie arrived in the morning and still in her office when she went home at night. Taking in the dark hair, dark eyes, and alabaster skin seemingly untouched by the sun, Kylie smirked. Maybe she’s a vampire.
She’d spent much of the afternoon trying to decide when the best time would be to talk to Gretchen about the sales reps. They had yet to go over yesterday’s meeting and Kylie had fielded about a dozen phone calls from Jason Bergman alone, angling to hear how Gretchen had responded to the message Kylie was supposed to pass along. Kylie had some choice words on her tongue for the man, but managed to keep them safely locked in her brain for the time being. Pissing off their top sales rep probably wasn’t a smart career move. Jason might be arrogant and self-centered, but he also took care of some very large accounts; that fact gave him power.
Talking to Gretchen about the reps’ opinion of her methods wasn’t a conversation Kylie was looking forward to, but only because she didn’t know Gretchen well yet. She and Jim used to have such discussions quite often. Jim had relied on her to keep him abreast of numbers, new clients, potential clients, and profits. They’d had many talks over lunch about which reps brought in the most money, who needed to work a bit harder, and so on. Talking to Gretchen about such things should be no big deal. It was part of Kylie’s job, after all. And once they got into the subject, Kylie’s plan was to slip in a comment or two about maybe going a little easier on the crew in the future. No big deal.
She jumped when she heard Gretchen’s voice cut through the quiet of the office. “Kylie, can I talk to you for a minute, please?”
“Be right there.” Kylie closed the open application on her desktop and grabbed a pad and a pen. She’d realized that, though she didn’t really need to jot notes during their meetings, it made Gretchen feel better if she pretended. She headed in.
Kylie had noticed, over the past few days, that Gretchen’s office had begun to fill up. The bookshelves were lined with sales report binders and several books on sales managing and sales in general. There were also several awards from the various companies she’d worked for.
Kylie had snuck a peek one day last week while Gretchen was out.
One trophy and three crystal awards were engraved with Sales Rep of the Year. Three plaques reported Highest Percentage over Quota.
Five different pieces read District Sales Manager of the Year. The twelve decorations were from three companies. The woman apparently knew her stuff when it came to sales. It seemed that Gretchen was a phenomenal success wherever she happened to be working. Kylie found herself hugely impressed and unexpectedly proud to be working for someone who was such an asset to any company.
One odd discovery Kylie had made during her covert perusal of her boss’s décor had been the two framed photos on Gretchen’s desk. They seemed to be the only personal items in the entire room and both faced Gretchen’s chair, as if they were not meant for public consumption.
Kylie had had to walk around behind the desk to see them.
One was an older picture of a family of four: a man and a woman in their fifties or sixties, the man’s dark eyes and chiseled jaw line telling Kylie he could be none other than Gretchen’s father, along with a tightly smiling Gretchen and a younger man Kylie assumed was her brother. In the other picture a much more relaxed version of Gretchen was with a smiling, handsome man of about fifty. Both were wearing sombreros and holding up large margaritas in salute toward the camera.
Gretchen’s cheeks were rosy and there was a sparkle in her eyes; she looked like she was laughing out loud. Kylie was struck by the contrast between the two photos. Gretchen could have been two different people, one the boss Kylie saw every day, and the other a more playful and vibrant woman. Kylie liked that there might actually be more to her new boss than seriousness and concentration.
Yet again rehearsing what she was planning to say about the sales reps, she took a seat in one of the maroon fabric-covered chairs in front of Gretchen’s enormous mahogany desk, perched her pad on her knee, and waited for Gretchen to finish typing whatever it was she was working on. Charts, graphs, and computer reports were strewn all over the desk’s surface. A long-cold mug of coffee sat on a leather coaster near the keyboard.
Gretchen’s brow furrowed with concentration as she switched from her computer keyboard to a large adding machine, then back, her lips pursing and un-pursing as she thought about her task. Kylie watched Gretchen’s hands as she typed, admiring them. They were small and feminine, but looked strong, like Gretchen could go from typing or applying make-up to climbing a ladder or swinging a hammer without missing a beat. She’d taken off her black suit jacket and tossed it over the back of her chair, the red short-sleeved shell giving Kylie her first view of Gretchen’s bare arms. Her smooth, porcelain skin looked impossibly soft, and Kylie was embarrassed to realize she wanted to touch it, to test its softness with her fingertips. She swallowed and quickly looked down at her pad as Gretchen finished what she was doing.
“So. I noticed you had lunch with the reps yesterday.” Gretchen leaned her forearms on the desk and focused serious eyes on Kylie.
Kylie nodded, wondering when Gretchen had seen the group of them. “They had a few tables in the cafeteria and asked me to join
them.”
“I don’t suppose they were happy about the meeting.”
“Um, no.”
“And how many calls have you gotten from them today?” At that, Kylie chuckled. “A few.”
“They’re going to try to get you ‘on their side,’ you know.” She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “They think I’m the Snow Queen or something.”
Kylie pressed her lips together and nodded again. Actually, it was Cruella De Vil. The woman obviously knew what kind of reputation she conveyed. Kylie made no comment.
Gretchen laced her fingers together and leaned her chin on them, studying Kylie for several long seconds. Arching one eyebrow, she stated simply, “You think I was too hard on them.” A dozen responses leapt into Kylie’s mind and she opened her mouth to speak in her own defense. Something in Gretchen’s gaze wouldn’t allow her to settle on anything but the truth, however. She let out a breath. “Yeah. I do.”
“How so?”
“What do you mean?”
“How was I too hard on them?”
Kylie squirmed slightly in her chair, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. “I…maybe…” She had no idea how to phrase what she wanted to say without sounding completely out of line, and she felt some resentment begin to bubble at being put on the spot. She stammered instead, “Um…”
Gretchen sighed. “Just spit it out. It’s not rocket science. What would you have done differently?”
“I think…” Kylie cleared her throat. “I think you could have been a little nicer.”
Gretchen seemed to absorb the statement and nodded slowly. “A little nicer.”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.” Gretchen continued to nod, but her gaze hardened.
“First of all, I’m not here to be nice. If a few blunt words are all it takes to make Roxy cry, she needs to grow some thicker skin.” Gretchen sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “Second, their numbers are way down and they all need to get their shit together. This isn’t high school.
It’s the real world and they need to start acting like grown-ups.” Kylie felt herself becoming defensive and didn’t like it. After all, she’d worked with these people a lot longer than Gretchen had. “You don’t even know them. They’re the best sales team on the east side of the country, Gretchen. They’re good salespeople.” She knew she might have crossed a line when she saw Gretchen’s eyes flash. “Are they?” Gretchen asked. “Have you seen this report?” She tossed one of the computer printouts in Kylie’s direction.
Kylie tried to backpedal a bit. “Look, I don’t mean to step on your toes or anything. I’m just not sure I agree with how you handled things yesterday. This group is just used to…” She grasped for the right words.
“Jim. They’re used to Jim.”
“Yeah.”
“He babied them, Kylie. He gave them no discipline, no goals.” Kylie felt her temperature rising at the slight against her old boss and fought to keep it down. Gretchen obviously didn’t understand the point. “No. No, he didn’t baby them. But he was gentler. They liked him. He was nicer.” That last word sounded snide and it slipped out before she could catch it.
If Gretchen was fazed, she hid it well. “Well, I’m not Jim.”
“I know that.”
“Nice only goes so far in the corporate world.” Gretchen pointed at the report again, which Kylie had yet to glimpse at. “Look at the bottom line, Kylie. This region is down nearly thirty-five percent from last year. And twenty percent from the year before.” Kylie blinked at the numbers. Thirty-five percent? That didn’t sound right. Wouldn’t Jim have told her if they were that far off?
“You haven’t even seen that report, have you?” Gretchen asked as if reading Kylie’s mind. Her voice registered a note of triumph. Apparently she’d suspected that Kylie wasn’t privy to all the information. “Kylie.” Her deep voice reverberated in the pit of Kylie’s stomach, forcing her eyes up. Gretchen spoke carefully, but with granite resolve. “It was time for Jim to retire.” She waited a couple minutes, let Kylie absorb the meaning of that statement, and then continued. “Those numbers? They’re why I was hired…to get them back up. And they’re why he was pushed out early.”
Jim took a forced retirement? Kylie didn’t want to believe that she’d been so completely out of the loop with a man she admired so much. She looked up into Gretchen’s rich brown eyes and hoped to see them soften with understanding. They didn’t. If anything, they seemed colder.
“I can’t have my EAA second-guessing me. It’s counterproductive and makes my job harder.”
Kylie nodded, her face warming.
“Not to mention, it pisses me off.”
“I’m sorry.” Kylie’s voice was tiny and she dropped her eyes. “It won’t happen again.”
“I’m aware that the reps don’t like the way I spoke to them yesterday, but you know what?” Gretchen dipped her head so she could catch Kylie’s eye again and bring her gaze back up. “I don’t care. My job is to increase the bottom line. I’m not here to be their friend or yours. I don’t really care if any of you like me. That’s not my concern. Do you think Margo Wheeler cares whether Jason Bergman thinks I’m a bitch?”
Kylie shook her head.
“No. She cares what that number at the bottom of that report says. If it’s too low, she hears about it. And you know what they say about shit rolling downhill. The next one down from her is me, and I happen to have a nice wardrobe. I don’t like the idea of getting crap all over it.”
Gretchen inhaled and let out her breath slowly, tilting her head to the side as she regarded Kylie. “Kylie, I think you’re a great EAA. I’m really glad that I ended up with you as my assistant. You’ve made things easier already and I’ve been here less than two weeks. I know Jason can be a squeaky wheel, as can most salespeople, but you can’t let him browbeat you. And, God damn it, if he’s got an issue with me, you tell him to be a man and bring it to me. He may not like my methods. You may not like my methods. But his opinion doesn’t matter to me and frankly, neither does yours. My job is to increase the sales of this region. That’s why I’m here and that’s what I’m going to do. I’d rather have your help than have you working against me, but it’s your choice.” She paused for effect. “Am I making myself clear?” Kylie swallowed, knowing her face was flaming hot and hating it.
She nodded, feeling small.
“Good.” Gretchen sat back again and waved Kylie off like a fly, ending the discussion. “Go home. Eat something and get some rest. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”
Kylie stood, clutching her pad to her chest, and beelined to her cubicle without looking back. She didn’t want Gretchen to see the tears that, much to her dismay, had filled her eyes. Painfully embarrassed, she packed up in record time and walked down the hall and out the employee entrance, wanting only to get to her car as quickly as possible. She was determined not to cry and annoyed that it was even a possibility. All she wanted was to get home and hug Rip. He had always understood when she was frustrated, his loving blue eyes reflecting his unconditional love for her.
At the realization that he wouldn’t be waiting, she stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot. Only then did a tear spill over and roll silently down her cheek.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gretchen sipped her Pinot Grigio and stared out the window of the restaurant at the people walking up and down Park Avenue. It certainly wasn’t Manhattan, but as smaller cities went, it was nice. The population seemed fairly diverse. A young, obviously gay couple was followed a few feet back by a man and woman in their sixties, holding hands. Many people were walking dogs, anxious to get out into the much-awaited spring weather. Gretchen enjoyed the simple act of people-watching, sipping her wine in complete relaxation. It was a state she didn’t reach often.
Activity on the street was beginning to pick up with the promise of summer. Just in the three weeks she’d lived in Rochester, Gretchen had already seen
it. The number of people seemed a little higher; the shops seemed a little brighter and seemed to stay open a little later. It even smelled like summer was coming.
Taking note of the small outdoor tables, Gretchen decided that once May’s evening chill left the air, she’d sit outside and dine. She glanced at her watch and noted with a smile that Pete was late, as usual.
It had grated on her nerves when they were married, but now she just chalked it up as a Pete-ism and shrugged her indifference with an oh, well, that’s Pete resignation. If you didn’t expect to have to wait for Pete, you didn’t know him very well.
They were meeting at six thirty. At precisely six fifty, Pete strolled through the front door. Gretchen waved at him. He exchanged smiling words with the hostess, then crossed the room and met Gretchen at her table, giving her a warm, tight hug as she stood to greet him. As her face brushed his shirt, the spicy aroma of his cologne hit her senses and she was swept momentarily into her past, remembering when their bathroom smelled of that same scent and how much she’d adored it.
She’d purchased it for him every Christmas for the six years they were together.
“Right on time, as always,” she teased.
“I just wanted you to be sure to get a glass of wine in you before I got here,” he teased back as they sat. “God, it’s good to see you. What’s it been? Last summer? I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Last summer at your cottage,” Gretchen replied, feeling more content than she had in several days. She smiled, hoping to convey the warmth in her heart. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“I’m so happy that you moved up here. We’re practically neighbors now.” His blue eyes twinkled with excitement, making him appear much younger than his fifty years despite the gray at his temples.
Too Close to Touch Page 4
