by Julie Cannon
“It might be complicated to get away.” Jeez, she felt like she was making plans to sneak out of her bedroom window at her parents’ house. She’d done that many times and never got caught, but this was a different situation altogether.
“Why? Do they expect you to work twenty-four hours a day?”
“No,” but Kenner thought Andrea would probably prefer that.
“So what’s the problem? Your free time is your own, isn’t it?”
Kenner nodded. “Of course it is.” She hoped she didn’t sound defensive. “It’s just this is complicated.”
“You already said that.” Susie was losing some of her I-want-to-fuck-you look. Kenner felt her evening start to slide into shit and couldn’t think of a way to stop it. “Give me your number and I’ll try to work something out,” she said, grabbing for a lifeline.
Susie hesitated, and the throbbing between Kenner’s legs disappeared. Shit, I do not need this, she thought. When she was about to give up and get up from the table, Susie recited her number. Kenner jotted it on a napkin, not sure if she was thankful or annoyed. Annoyed at herself for not ditching Andrea and her uptight ass and standard operating procedures and have some fun. Let off some steam. Clear her head. That’s what she needed. Not another night of working until midnight accompanied with another wordless drive back to Andrea’s house. Maybe her hotel situation had been resolved. The way she and Andrea had snapped at each other, Kenner thought Andrea would be more than happy to tell her she was out of her house. That’s what she’d have done if their roles were reversed.
Kenner watched her plans for tonight walk out the door.
Andrea sat across the room and watched Susie stroll away from Kenner. When she’d first approached Kenner, Andrea had lost her appetite. Susie had done the same thing to her several years ago, and even though it had been a long time since she’d been in the arms of a soft, warm woman, she’d respectfully declined. Susie hadn’t taken the hint and had come back sniffing around several times before Andrea had told her very clearly to go away and stay away. She’d left Andrea alone, but from what she could tell, Susie was still very active in the hookup space. She didn’t fault Susie or think she was a tramp or whatever the phrase was these days. When she thought about it, she almost envied her and her ability to go after whatever or, more precisely, whomever she wanted.
So why had she felt angry when Susie sat down at Kenner’s table? It wasn’t any of her business what Kenner did in her spare time. Wasn’t any of her business who she slept with and whether she’d just met them or had known them for months. Kenner was an adult. She exhibited confidence and experience with women, and with her looks and charm, she’d obviously had plenty of practice. Andrea had no doubt Kenner could handle Susie, and by the looks of their body language and the heated looks they were exchanging across the table, handle was definitely going to happen.
Andrea frowned on interwork relationships. More often than not, when they went bad they were sticky and ugly, and one of the players always came out the loser. But Kenner wasn’t her employee, even though she was part of this mission. Andrea didn’t have any say in her work habits or her work relationships other than the fact that whatever she did could not interfere with the main reason she was here.
Andrea couldn’t help but watch the two interact from across the room. It always surprised her that Susie’s approach was more often than not successful. It appeared that in a very short period of time she would have another notch in her NASA belt.
When Andrea returned to the control room, Kenner had her feet on her desk, twiddling a pencil between her fingers as the data rolled across the screen in front of her.
“What are you doing?” Andrea asked from over Kenner’s left shoulder. Her tone was harsh.
“Following the trail of these commands,” Kenner answered, nodding toward the screen. Kenner didn’t change her position, nor did she turn around to look at Andrea.
“It doesn’t look like that’s what you’re doing.”
“It doesn’t matter what it looks like I’m doing but what I am actually doing.”
“Well, it doesn’t appear that way to me and certainly not to everyone else.” Andrea was more than a little annoyed at this point.
“Why are you worried about what everyone else thinks?” Kenner asked.
“Because everyone has a vested interest in this mission.”
“And I don’t?”
“Well,” Andrea said. She moved and was now standing beside her. “Look at yourself. Does this say hard at work,” Andrea said, pointing at her body.
“Yes, it does,” Kenner answered, jotting a few notes on the pad balanced precariously on her outstretched legs. “Just because it happens to be in a different language than what everyone is used to around here doesn’t mean it doesn’t have the same definition.” Kenner still hadn’t taken her eyes from the screen. She glanced at her watch and made a few more notes.
“I heard you had company for lunch,” Andrea asked. Jesus, why did stupid things keep coming put her mouth when she was around Kenner?
“I see the grapevine in alive and well at the Johnson Space Center.”
“Susie is…” Andrea paused, looking for the right word.
“Attractive?” Kenner supplied the adjective in a helpful tone.
“Among other things,” Andrea said sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. She told me she wasn’t involved with anyone. She certainly didn’t tell me it was you.”
“It’s not me. I’m definitely not involved with Susie,” Andrea replied vehemently. Her personal life was just that—personal. She never brought it to the office.
“But you want to be?”
“In her dreams,” Andrea said, with even more force and conviction.
“Then what’s the problem? We’re both of age.” Kenner stood and started the stretching routine Andrea had seen her complete every hour or so.
“I don’t think office romances are a good idea,” Andrea said stiffly.
“I don’t do romance,” Kenner replied. “But two consenting adults spending time together with no expectations and strings can be very refreshing. Not to say how it relieves stress.” Kenner raised her eyebrows several times a lá Groucho Marx.
Andrea took a step toward her and leaned forward. “I am not having this conversation with you.” Her voice was low and came through clenched teeth.
Kenner took a step forward, forcing Andrea to lean back.
“You started it.”
Andrea was fuming. “Get back to work,” she growled, trying to save face. When she turned to leave she saw at least four heads quickly turn to look at their screens. Fucking great, she had an audience.
Several hours later Andrea was finalizing a report when Kenner approached. Jesus, what now, she asked herself. She didn’t want another scene. Fuck, she hadn’t wanted that scene earlier in the first fat place. What in the hell had gotten into her? She steeled herself for whatever Kenner had to say. She kept telling herself to hold it together, something she’d never had a problem with before. She put her pen down when Kenner stopped in front of her desk.
“Have you heard anything about my hotel arrangements?” Kenner asked, no sign of the earlier antagonism in her voice.
“Yes.” Andrea was relieved the subject wasn’t another controversial one. “I received an email from travel a few minutes ago. Unfortunately it’s status quo, at least for another day or so.”
“Shit,” Kenner mumbled under her breath but loud enough that she heard it.
Andrea opened her mouth to make a comment, but Kenner held both hands up as if in surrender. “I’ll be ready to go when you are.” Then she turned and walked back to her workstation.
Chapter Fourteen
T-minus 07:23:42:37
The ride to her house was as silent as it had been the night before. Andrea didn’t know what to say. She was terrible at small talk. She could talk work all day, but the conversation she and Kenner had earlier today had absolutely n
othing to do with work. She didn’t know whether to bring it up or just let it go. As tempted as she was to let it go, she regretted her comments.
“I want to apologize for what I said earlier today. It was unprofessional, and I guarantee it will never happen again,” Andrea said in a rush, needing to get the words out. For some reason this conversation made her more nervous than any other time she could remember. Probably because it was personal, and, like Kenner had said about herself, Andrea didn’t do personal. She gripped the steering wheel even tighter when Kenner didn’t immediately respond.
Finally Kenner said, “Let’s just chalk it up to a stressful situation. And you’re right. It is none of your business, and I accept your apology.”
Andrea turned her head to the side and expelled a lung full of air.
“Are you that nervous about talking to me?” Kenner asked.
Andrea kept both eyes on the road but could see Kenner out of the corner of her eye. Not only was Kenner looking at her but had turned in her seat so she was almost facing her.
“No, of course not.”
“Then what would you call it?” Kenner asked, her tone light.
“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. “Uncomfortable, maybe.”
“Why?”
Andrea gritted her teeth. Kenner was not going to drop this subject. “Because it never should have happened in the first place. You’re right. Your life is none of my business. When I made it mine I was stepping over the line.”
“And you don’t often step over the line,” Kenner said.
“Actually never,” Andrea replied, trying not to be defensive. “The complexity of what we do every day doesn’t allow for variance. We have no room for error. If we do, it could be disastrous.” God, she sounded like a recorded message.
Even in the dark she could feel Kenner’s penetrating eyes on her. That was one of the first things she’d noticed about her. Her eyes were an unusual shade of green, especially with her dark hair and complexion. It was as if Kenner could see right through her eyes, directly into her head to what she was thinking. Andrea knew that wasn’t possible; however, with a woman as brilliant as Kenner, it wouldn’t have surprised her.
Kenner did surprise her when she let the subject drop. Andrea knew she’d dodged the question. Kenner was asking about her personally, not her personal life, and Kenner knew she had completely avoided it. Andrea was safe and secure in her work. In the routine, in the analytical, predictable thought process behind everything. That was her, her life, what she did, who she was, sometimes seven days a week. Of course she’d be more comfortable there than anywhere else. And if Kenner didn’t like it, then too bad. She wasn’t her shrink, and if Kenner expected that they were going to have some kind of touching Hallmark-card moment, she needed to think again.
“I don’t have anything at my house to eat. Do you want to stop somewhere? There’s steak, Chinese, Thai, and Mexican between here and there.”
Kenner shifted in the seat, putting her feet back on the floorboard, turning those penetrating eyes away from her.
“Sure, how about steak?”
“All right,” she said, looking for the familiar sign on the road in front of her.
Andrea couldn’t believe Kenner could put away such a huge amount of food and still be able to maintain her thin figure. Three slices of bread, then salad, then an eight-ounce rib eye, a loaded baked potato, and a heaping pile of freshly steamed broccoli. She, on the other hand, had barely touched her salad and ate only one of her steak kabobs and none of her rice.
Kenner had kept up the conversation through most of the meal, discussing the mission or innocuous topics. When she steered too close to anything personal, Andrea shifted the subject.
“Have you ever been to China?” Kenner asked after giving the waitress her order for dessert.
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s one of the most fascinating places in the world. The masses of people, the crowds, the immense wealth right next to abject poverty are unbelievable.”
“When did you go?”
“Four or five years ago. We were over there on business and took a few days afterward to play tourist. Our guide took us to an authentic Chinese restaurant, and you know how it is when company comes to town, especially foreign visitors, and you go to the most expensive place that reflects your local cuisine?”
Andrea nodded, not because she’d experienced this, but because it was obviously the right thing to say. She left the entertaining to Barry and the higher-ups.
“It was the most disgusting meal I’ve ever had in my life.”
Andrea’s heart skipped when Kenner smiled as she told her story. As a matter of fact, her heart skipped quite a bit during dinner—when Kenner laughed, used her hands to express herself, or just when she looked at her.
“Our guide ordered for us, and pretty quick here comes this platter with this fish on it, complete with the head and tail. It had been gutted, but I swear it was still alive. More plates came out and I had no idea what they were. Everything was absolutely fascinating and disgusting at the same time. I don’t like sushi, but this wasn’t even that. It was maybe boiled or seared for all of two or three seconds, and it was gross. I didn’t eat any of it, just moved my fork back and forth to my mouth. Everyone else ate it, and they were sicker than hell the next day. We had to delay our return because they couldn’t get out of bed.”
Andrea couldn’t help but chuckle at Kenner’s story. The way she phrased it, the tone of her voice, and the expression on her face were enjoyable, and she hadn’t enjoyed herself in such a long time.
“But the worst is when it happens on a business trip. Then it’s not polite not to eat. It’s a sign of disrespect, and all hopes of getting anything done on that trip, or maybe even ever, are dead. That’s my definition of misery. One meal I had to excuse myself four times to go to the bathroom and puke.”
Andrea grimaced, her stomach turning a bit in sympathy. Kenner’s dessert arrived, a three-inch brownie topped with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream melting on top. She offered her a bite, but Andrea shook her head. Chocolate that late in the evening gave her weird dreams, and sharing part of a meal was far too intimate.
Kenner told several more stories of her adventures. She’d been all over the world. She’d experienced different places, different cultures, different people. Andrea had never been outside the United States. She hadn’t been to Cancun or even Rocky Point in Mexico. The sparkle in Kenner’s eyes when she talked about her friends and coworkers and described how it was like to have a beer in a local pub made Andrea suddenly feel a little hollow. My God, she was thirty-six years old and hadn’t been anywhere or done anything.
The check arrived as Kenner put her fork down on the now-empty plate. Andrea reached for it at the same time Kenner did.
“I can get this,” Kenner said.
“No,” Andrea replied, sliding the folder onto the seat beside her. “This is on NASA.”
“Well, in that case, how about an after-dinner cocktail?”
Kenner laughed before she could answer. “I’m just kidding,” she said, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “This was delicious, thank you.” She folded her napkin and laid it on the table beside her plate, signaling she was done. “Ugh,” she groaned. “I’m stuffed to the brim. I can’t remember when I’ve had a meal so good.
Kenner had been a little apprehensive when Andrea had pulled into the parking lot of the dilapidated building. She’d decided not to say anything and give Andrea the benefit of the doubt. The Wagon Wheel was definitely a little hole-in-the-wall joint off the beaten path, the kind of place you’d never enter unless you knew how good the food was.
She hadn’t been quite sure what to expect when they walked in. But between the food, ambiance, music, and Andrea, she’d been surprised all the way around. Andrea was making an effort, but obviously she didn’t know what to say, so Kenner had pretty much led the conversation and picked the topics. She had noticed that when t
hey walked in everyone had looked at the latest entry into their local watering hole, and she definitely hadn’t missed the fact that the men couldn’t keep their eyes off Andrea as they strolled to their table.
Andrea definitely was easy on the eyes sitting across the table over a meal; however, she never really relaxed. She was very smart, literate, and extremely well read. Kenner hadn’t met too many people that were as technically competent as Andrea but had read the complete works of Shakespeare, Hawthorne, and Agatha Christie.
When Kenner had asked about her family or anything personal, Andrea gave vague answers and quickly changed the subject. After a few times Kenner got the message and didn’t go down that path again.
“Do you always eat that much?” Andrea asked, putting the key in the ignition and starting the car.
“Every chance I get,” she replied. Andrea looked at her with an are-you-kidding-me expression. “But I don’t get many chances, so when I do I take full advantage of it.”
Andrea smiled, shook her head, and put the car in reverse. As she turned around to look out the rear window, her shirt pulled tightly across her breasts. At the risk of being busted again, Kenner peeked. Andrea’s breasts were what Kenner would describe as no more than a handful, which in her opinion was perfect. You can only put so much in your hands or your mouth. Speaking about putting things in her mouth, she realized she hadn’t thought about the missed opportunity with Susie since entering the restaurant.
She shifted her eyes back to the road before Andrea was aware she was leering at her chest, wishing for a button or two to pop. Andrea put the car in drive, looked both ways, and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Is your neighborhood safe?” Kenner asked when they pulled into Andrea’s garage.
“Excuse me?”
Kenner closed her door before repeating her question. “Your neighborhood. Is it safe to walk around the block? I need to exercise some of this food off.”
Andrea looked at her watch and frowned. “It’s eleven fifteen.”
