“No, I wouldn’t say she’s getting on my nerves,” Kyle said. “I’ve got to go, though. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Ready?” He was at Laura’s side instantly, as she traded one more pat with the dog and smiled goodbye at his owner. He practically dragged her back into the car.
“Listen,” he said. “I’ll deal with the desk clerk, but you have to deal with Harris. If we can’t get him alone at first, make up some story about why we had to see him right now.”
That jerked her attention back to him. “Why do I have to lie to Harris?”
“He trusts you more than he trusts me.”
She snorted. “Right. He thinks your every word is gold.”
“Is that what you think?” Oh, right, that’s what he had wanted her to think, back at the office. Now he needed her to have a clear-eyed view of their strengths and weaknesses. “No, Laura, he likes me, but he trusts you. You have that earnestness thing going.”
“But I’ll be lying.”
“So you’ll lie earnestly,” he said. The Bellamy Hotel dominated the marshy island, and they reached the grounds just a half a mile after leaving the bridge. He maneuvered Rand’s car into the grounds of the complex, pulling up to the valet parking section next to the elegant main hotel building, a beautiful stucco structure dating from the turn of the century.
The look on the valet’s face was priceless. And that was before Kyle emerged from the fuschia car in his tousled shirt and shorts. Laura still looked the picture of elegance from the neck up, but she was wearing jeans, and Kyle got the idea that jeans were not standard attire at the Bellamy.
Kyle slipped the valet the rest of the twenty, which wasn’t much, and explained, “Rental. They were going to take an extra four hours to scrape the bumper stickers off. We said leave them, you know? We were in a hurry.”
The crew-cut young man, whose name tag said Nick, didn’t blink. “Your luggage?”
“Lost,” Kyle said. “They’re going to ship it here when they can. Can you imagine the kind of day we’ve had?”
“Driving around in that car, sir? No, I can’t,” said the valet, before getting in. Kyle noticed he had to move the seat up to reach the pedals. Hah.
“Well, that went well, didn’t it?” Laura asked.
He stared at her. “Are you kidding? He didn’t believe a word I said.” He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the heavy oak doors. “I think I’ll have better luck with the clerk.”
“If she’s a she, that is,” Laura said. When he started to respond, she raised a hand to silence him. “Just stating the facts.” She pointed to a luxurious embroidered emerald sofa in a lobby dominated by a large antique chandelier and numerous small oil paintings and fragile-looking vases. “I’ll be sitting here waiting on you. Wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”
He didn’t bother with a response. It was bad enough that she suggested he flirted to get his way, since there may have been some truth to that, but for her to suggest that he couldn’t flirt as effectively when she was around. Well, that was…
That was true.
The desk clerk was a soft and pretty redhead. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, but then he took a look back at Laura, who hadn’t settled on the couch, but was admiring the paintings in the lobby. He couldn’t do it. He delivered his cover story straight to the clerk, without overplaying the charm he usually used with the opposite sex.
And she bought it. After confirming that Brandi had called a few minutes ago with last-minute reservations, she accepted his directive that their room and meal charges be covered with Harris’s corporate card. She also told him that Harris and the other men weren’t back yet, but that if they wanted to have appetizers and drinks at the Sea Spray, the outdoor bar, she thought the men were going to stop there before dinner in the main dining room.
“We’re in,” Kyle whispered to Laura, who was studying a small still life.
“Our office needs more art, don’t you think? It would make it feel more polished.”
“Places that spend a lot of money on atmosphere are throwing it down the drain. Like all those fresh flowers every day at Mallory Management. Get real.”
Kyle opened the door for her to the casual Sea Spray. Well, casual for the Bellamy. He saw Laura smooth her hair and look self-consciously at her jeans. He guessed that she had never been less than properly dressed for anything, and it made him feel protective of her. He directed her to a table near the door, the better to spot Harris if he showed up, and held her chair for her as she sat down.
“Order whatever you want,” he said. “Harris is paying.”
She grinned at him, relaxing in her wicker-backed seat. “How generous of you.” She bit her lip as she studied the drink menu. “I’d like to have a margarita, but do you think it would take away from my earnest points?”
“It would take more than one margarita to take away from your earnest points,” he said. “I’m going to have a beer.” The waitress came, and they gave her their order, adding chips, spinach-stuffed mushrooms and a large shrimp cocktail to it.
“You’ve got your speech for Harris planned?” Kyle asked Laura.
“More or less.”
The waitress came back with their drinks and the chips, and Kyle watched as Laura licked the salt off the rim of the glass. Oh my, oh my. He gulped his beer.
“So, you never told me what happened to Stan,” she said.
He was still staring.
“Kyle?”
“Stan who?”
“Your best friend? The imaginary guitar prodigy who was too obsessed to have a social life? Did he ever figure out his life or is he still delusional and lonely?”
No, that would be me, obviously. Kyle ordered another beer as the waitress arrived with the mushrooms. He busied himself with them, trying to take his attention off Laura and her seductive ways with a chip. “No, actually, he, uh, met a female bass player on a gig a few years ago. They’re married now.”
“You left out that part of the story,” she said.
“Because it didn’t…”
“Didn’t go with your point. Gotcha.”
He dared to look up at her, expecting a teasing look, and saw that she was instead staring into the distance. He didn’t expect what she said next. She put down her margarita and looked at him earnestly. “Kyle, do you really like your job?”
Like I would tell you if I didn’t, he thought, but then he understood that however odd it seemed, he would tell her the truth. “I love my job,” he said. “You know, I told myself I was going to stay there awhile anyway. But there’s something about it—everything fits. Do you? Do you like your job?”
She doodled a circle into the condensation on her glass, then said, “Well, I’ve never worked anywhere else. That’s not…like or dislike…it’s not…”
“A value that you get behind?”
She blushed. “I did say that phrase to you last night, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” He thought of something he had wanted to ask her when she was in the car with him today, talking about her niece, whom she obviously adored. “What you said about neurotic A students being better than happy B students, you didn’t mean that, did you? I mean, if you were married, and had kids—”
He didn’t get a chance to find out whether she was going to defend her position on maladjusted little progeny or a chance to ask himself why he wanted to know. He heard a familiar voice say, “Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t my feuding future vice presidents. What are you all doing here? And who’s paying for all this?”
LAURA HAD EXPECTED Harris to be skeptical about their being here. What she hadn’t expected were the waves of nervousness and mistrust coming off of his companions, a tall, heavyset blond man in his midthirties and a small, dark-haired man about ten years older. Better to face these sharks, though, than continue the personal conversation she and Kyle were having. She’d come this close to admitting that she disliked her job, saved only by Kyle’s odd
detour into her hypothetical child-rearing habits.
She looked at Kyle, who nodded at her almost imperceptibly. Show time.
“Harris,” she said, standing up. “What a—” She couldn’t really say what a surprise to see you here, could she, since she and Kyle were basically stalking him? She watched Kyle’s blue eyes grow dark with alarm. “What a pleasure it is to see you.”
“Is it?” he asked. She was tempted to bail and let Kyle take over, but if there was one thing that could be said about her, it was that she always met her obligations. Meeting one’s obligations didn’t sound as attractive as a willingness to put on some lacy underwear and seduce a man by moonlight, but too bad. She wasn’t here to be attractive. She was here to keep her job.
She said to Harris, “We wanted to tell you how meaningful our stay at Serene Dynamics was. That it was the most positive experience of our lives, wasn’t it, Kyle? We’re just filled with new energy and new direction.”
“New dynamics,” Kyle added. “Serene ones.”
“And you couldn’t wait until Monday morning?” Harris sounded more amused than skeptical, thank goodness.
“We had to thank you in person. Right away,” Laura said, catching a small nod from Kyle again. The other two men were still not on her team, she could tell, and so she turned to the large blond one and said, “Didn’t Harris tell us that you’ve been to the camp? That you recommended it?”
Small no, no, no shake of the head from Kyle. “Yes, we did,” said the smaller man. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Sit down, sit down,” Kyle said. “Have some chips.” He stood up. “I’m Kyle Sanders,” he said to the blond man. “And this is Laura Everett.”
“Bill Brewster,” said the larger man. “And my partner, Walt Williams.” Laura tried to keep them straight. Bill, big. Walt, weaselly. She wasn’t nearly as good with names and faces as Kyle was. Harris pulled a few extra chairs up to their table, but instead of sitting down, Bill said, “Could you excuse us?”
Harris grabbed a chip. He looked relaxed and happy. “They go everywhere together. Like a couple of damn women.”
“I don’t know,” Kyle said. “Laura’s been short of girl talk over the stalls this trip.”
Harris looked puzzled, and then said, “Oh, hell, Laura, I didn’t mean you.”
Because you’re a robot, not a real woman, she finished.
“But if Kyle’s defending your honor, that’s a big step, right?”
“That’s what our counselor said,” Laura told him, getting a small grin from Kyle, who knew that Rand had said exactly the opposite. “The only downside is that they accidentally sent our luggage home with some other campers.” She didn’t care what Kyle said. She was going to explain why she wasn’t properly attired.
“Pick up a couple of things at the clothing store off the lobby,” Harris said. “Did you all check in?”
Laura looked at Kyle for approval before saying yes.
“Well, have your rooms billed to me,” Harris said. Laura felt a twinge of guilt until he added, dryly, “If you haven’t already.”
“So did you get some golf in?” she asked Walt and Bill when they returned.
They nodded, then Harris said, “Kyle can rent some clubs tomorrow. I can’t wait for you to see him in action.”
“How about some volleyball right now?” Bill asked Kyle.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Laura interrupted. “We’ve driven a long way on just a little sleep—”
“You’re saying he’s not up to it?” Bill asked.
“Of course I’m up to it,” Kyle said, frowning at Laura.
Great. She had attacked his masculinity again, just like with the car this morning. Bill had thrown down the challenge and Kyle couldn’t resist it, like a bunch of little boys issuing double-dog dares.
Kyle stood up, and when the waitress came over, he signed the bill. Laura speared one more shrimp as Kyle put a hand on her shoulder. “If you want to go on to your room,” he said, “You don’t have to feel obligated to watch.”
“She wouldn’t miss it for the world, would you, Laura?” Harris asked. “I’m going to play. How about you and Walt?”
They both demurred, Walt heading back to the bar, and Laura going with the rest of the group down to the beach. While they inspected the net, she walked the shoreline, turning a piece of driftwood over with her shoe, taking deep breaths of the funky sea air. She felt the stress ease out of her shoulders. Why had it been so long since she had been to the beach? Because she never took the vacation time she was allotted, that was why. A large maroon-and-orange shell, delicately whorled, tempted her, and she picked it up, turning it over to see some sort of slimy gray prehistoric creature opening and closing a hole that could have been its mouth, but may not have been.
“Eek.” She put the shell down at the water’s edge and looked back to make sure no one had heard her yell. Okay, that was why she didn’t come to the beach more often. Dusting her hands, she moved back down to the game.
Kyle was holding a volleyball, talking to a teenager. Then he and Bill moved round to one side of the net, Harris and the boy on the other.
Laura started to sit down directly on the sand, before spying an army of red ants hurrying across. She remained standing, since all the beach’s lounge chairs seemed to be occupied by older people sporting largish drinks. Who was scoring in the game didn’t hold her interest for long, but watching Kyle—that was very interesting.
He had taken his shirt off, revealing a tanned and muscular chest and wiry, corded arms. She allowed herself exactly two minutes of ogling before forcing herself to look away. A couple of men around her age walked by, and she looked at them, trying to decide, objectively, whether or not she was right in thinking that Kyle was the best-looking man on the beach. Bellamy attracted an older and richer crowd than some other places, but the competition was still stiffer than it had been at the gas station. When she looked back at Kyle, satisfied that she wasn’t wrong, she saw that he was watching her watch the men, an odd look on his face. Was he jealous? In her dreams, she thought, giving another twenty-something guy a second glance as he walked past. Nope. Still Kyle. Definitely Kyle. She turned back again in time to see Kyle hit the dust, hard, in front of Bill. Men and their games.
“Men and their games,” said a voice near her ear. Walt Williams, she saw, turning and looking down. She had the feeling he enjoyed sneaking up on people. He had gotten a drink, gin or vodka and tonic, with a lime slice floating at the top of the glass. With his golf clothes and cocktail, he looked positively colonial as he surveyed the beach, as though it were his new world to claim.
“I’m sorry?” she said, pretending she hadn’t understood.
“Men and their games. Isn’t that what you were thinking?”
“Well, no, actually I was thinking that Harris is going to have a heart attack if he keeps huffing and puffing like that.”
“You’re a loyal employee. That’s a good quality.”
Great. She had worked her butt off for recognition in her chosen field, and her reward was being treated like a faithful old canine companion by an Addams Family reject.
“Kyle is also very loyal, isn’t he?” Williams said. “Surprising, considering his flashy record.”
“I don’t know. I don’t listen to gossip,” Laura said, hoping he would take the hint and stop talking to her. There was a subtext to his words, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Now would be a good time for her to get a dose of women’s intuition, that magical ability to put together words and tone and body language and figure out what someone was really saying to you. She’d never had that gift.
Kyle did, though she could just imagine his reaction if she called it “women’s intuition.” Kyle would be able to talk to Walt Williams and figure out whether he was making small talk or trying to pump her for information. Kyle, come on. Stop the game. I need you.
Kyle looked over at her, as though he had heard her silent entreat
y. He waved, and she tried to wave back in a way that said Get over here but didn’t tip Walt off. She didn’t succeed.
“So what brought you here today? Couldn’t stand being out of the loop any longer?” Walt asked.
“I wasn’t aware there was a loop I needed to be in,” Laura said, which, she realized, could have probably summarized her whole career with Harris Associates.
Kyle, though—in Kyle, Harris had recognized someone who would be truly happy at his company, who would be in his element, and in the loop. She watched Kyle now, serving the ball, and thought how wonderful it would be to be as comfortable as he seemed with himself right now. There was no trace of whatever latent clumsiness kept him stepping on her toes or bumping her in the shoulder. This was a man at home in his own body.
“Do you have any thoughts on the takeover?” Walt asked.
She had waited forever for someone to ask her opinion on something, and now that she just wanted to watch Kyle, this little man wouldn’t shut up. She heard Kyle whoop and knew she needed to do something drastic to get him out of his game. Maybe if she fainted. No, then she’d land facedown in a bunch of fire ants, which would no doubt provoke some kind of allergic reaction.
Allergic reaction.
“Really, you caught me at a bad time,” she told Walt. “I forgot that sometimes citrus fruits make me break out. Do you think they used real lime in the margaritas?”
He drew himself up to his full height, which wasn’t much. “This is the Bellamy,” he said. “Of course.”
“I just feel a little, oh, peculiar.”
“Maybe you should go in.”
Bingo, Walter. Thank you. “Oh,” she said, “Kyle has my room key. Maybe I could interrupt him for a second.”
“The clerk has a duplicate,” Walt said. “No need to stop the game.”
“Oh, I would hate to trouble the clerk. Let me just get Kyle.” Before I have to break out in full-blown welts.
“You don’t trust me to get you safely to your room?” There was something familiar in his tone, and she tried to place it. Oh, yeah. He sounded like Boris Badenov, the spy in The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle.
Bringing Up Baby New Year & Frisky Business Page 23
