Mikaela remembered having one clear thought once the haze brought on by Nina’s pronouncement dissipated—it wasn’t love, had never been love. All she and Nina had was lust twisted into like, which she’d convinced herself to parade as love. Somewhere along the way they’d lost the like. And on her part the lust too, she admitted with a melancholy sigh. Losing the lust had been the hardest thing to deal with. Even harder than having to clear out of Nina’s townhouse with a few days’ notice. It was a good thing she prided herself on accumulating only as many possessions as she could stuff into her old, beat-up station wagon. It had been an even better thing that Casey’s guest room was available and fully furnished.
She looked out the window, noting absently the expert way the bus driver threaded onto the packed highway heading into downtown Atlanta. She wished she could maneuver her way through life half as well. At thirty-two she had a fairly decent job and, thanks to Casey’s generosity, she was working on paying down her credit card debts and student loans. Eventually she’d get back on track to saving for a house.
And probably sooner than later she’d get over last night’s trauma and give dating another shot. She liked being in a relationship, liked going through the mating rituals. While she didn’t have Casey’s beauty, she was by no means on the bottom of the Good Looks Chart. Thanks to the genes she’d inherited from her white mother and secrets in her black father’s gene closet, she looked, according to her grandmother anyway, like the epitome of the melting pot. With her long, curly, dark brown hair, gray-blue eyes, flat nose, bottom-heavy lips and skin more golden than brown, she’d been quizzed by more than one person about her ethnic background. Having been raised by her father’s mother, she mostly replied “black.” But after a few drinks, she had been known to say anything from “Native American” to “Middle Eastern.”
The bus passed the Fulton County Courthouse, which meant they were almost at Five Points, the end of the line. Time to put away negative thoughts, she decided as she slipped back into her coat. Maybe she should start by not counting the thing with Nina as technically getting dumped. After all, Nina had called her a couple of weeks ago, begging for another chance. Admittedly—Nina had been drunk, but still…Mikaela was ashamed to admit it but for a hot second she had fantasized about taking Nina back, staying long enough to toy with her affections, then calling it quits, making herself the dumper. Luckily that stupid bubble had burst, and despite not having a speech prepared, she had managed to decline Nina’s offer, though in terms that were none too gentle.
“I’m an idiot,” she muttered. She’d obviously been looking at things the wrong way for months. Surely the dump didn’t count if the dumper tried to get back together with the dumpee within a certain time. She shook her head. All those hours wasted brooding over nothing.
Mikaela joined the throng exiting the bus. Most crossed the street to transfer to the train. The rest were like her and worked downtown. Her office building was located three blocks from the stop. The brisk wind, funneled by the tall buildings on Peachtree Street, tore through her puffy winter coat and had her speeding to her destination.
Her office was located in a fifteen-story white brick building. Two of the three retail spaces facing the street on ground level were occupied. One was a high-priced deli that probably wouldn’t last, the other a small but packed convenience store. In the past week, the third had shown signs of future occupancy. Mikaela was hoping for something different, with a fresh and natural bent. She hadn’t gotten her hopes up though. There had been signs of occupancy before. And even if such a restaurant opened, with the current retail climate downtown, it was likely to have a short life.
She barely had time to stow away her belongings before being surprised by a summons from her boss. Mikaela had worked as Talya Buttons’ administrative assistant for three years, and thanks to Talya’s openness to staff training, had been able to improve her technical skills in each of those years. While she loved her boss to death, when she entered Talya’s office she was thinking longingly of the cup of coffee or two she was usually able to enjoy before her boss arrived.
“Sorry to bug you first thing,” Talya said, waving at the two chairs in front of her desk. “It’s important and I promise to be quick, given that you haven’t had time to grab coffee.” Her thin, red-painted lips pulled into a sly smile.
“Are you trying to suggest I’m an addict?”
Talya shrugged her thin shoulders as if that said it all. “I rode the elevator down with Bill Friday evening. It’s official this time. Jolene turned in her retirement papers. As much as it pained me, I strongly urged him to consider you for the position, and let me tell you, he was not averse to the idea.”
“Wait! What?” Mikaela jerked upright as thoughts of coffee dissipated. “Me? I thought you liked working with me?”
Talya tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ears and leaned forward, her deep blue eyes intense. “As your boss and friend, I think—no, I know—this is a good next step up in your career. You can do all the stuff I throw at you with your hands tied behind your back. Moving to executive assistant would require you to stretch a little. In a good way. And despite being the head honcho, Bill would be a great guy for you to work with. Ask Jolene.”
“Stretch a little? That’s more like a leap.” She blew out a breath and her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know about this, Talya.”
“I wouldn’t have mentioned your name if I didn’t think you were capable. I have my reputation to think about as well. It’s not like you have to do anything about it right away. Go grab coffee and let it sink in. We’ll talk more after you’re caffeinated and can see reason.”
“Funny. But wait, why should I worry?” Mikaela stood and dismissed the notion of her getting the job with a wave of her hand. “I can think of three admins who’d be ahead of me in that line. They’ve been here longer and have more experience. There’s nothing for me to think about.” Mikaela was referring to the Righteous Three, as she liked to call them. They were a group of older admins who thought they ran the company and could dictate the behavior of the other admins. The “righteous” came in because they held Bible study every Wednesday during lunch, where, according to a former disciple, they spent more time trashing staff than discussing the word of God. No doubt they would have plenty to say about her if they knew she was a lesbian. Only the people she worked closely with knew and she wanted to keep it that way. Not because she was ashamed, but because it wasn’t anyone else’s business.
“Before you get all smug, you should know Bill immediately asked me to pull together a summary of your accomplishments. And somehow I can’t help thinking a letter of reference from your boss detailing your willingness to go the extra mile, your ability to work well with others and your thirst for knowledge will weigh heavily with Bill. More so than years with the company alone. But that’s just me. Now go.” Talya made shooing motions. “I have to pimp your résumé.”
Mikaela smiled despite the tightness in her chest. “How many times do I have to tell you to quit watching those reality shows? They give you the false sense of being hip.” Her smile vanished as she made her way past her desk, then down the hall to the break room. If Talya had been any kind of boss, she would have had the decency to wait for Mikaela to down her second or third cup of coffee before dropping a bomb of this proportion.
Back at her desk, she sipped her coffee, not with her usual pleasure but absently, as she considered the implications. Was she ready for what the next level entailed? More importantly, was she ready to give up the comfortable working relationship with Talya? They were at a point where she could speak her mind knowing she would be heard and without worry of retribution. Plus she’d miss working with Gerri and Pat, who rounded out the foursome in their small section.
She sighed and stared at the company logo zipping across her monitor. The job of Bill’s assistant did come with a hefty increase in salary. It also came with a hefty increase in office politics, local and from headq
uarters. She’d heard plenty of complaints from Jolene over the past few years. Okay, so maybe not as many since Bill had taken over, but still it was something to put in the con column if she were inclined to make a list of pros and cons. Which she was not, right?
Her phone buzzed, and she quickly thrust the possibility of a new job to the back of her mind. She would focus on the job she had. A job she knew inside and out. A job she knew wouldn’t make a fool of her.
* * *
At twelve twenty-five p.m. Mikaela made her way down to the lobby. She’d convinced her friend, Marianna Kirkland, who worked two floors down on five, to join her for lunch. They were going to the newly opened noodle house in what was known as the Fairlie-Poplar district, a narrow two blocks lined with restaurants. She absently waved at the older, half-asleep security guard sitting at the front desk as she crossed the lobby and leaned against the wall near the glass front doors. Marianna was usually late, so Mikaela liked to spend the time people watching. Pedestrian traffic was light, no doubt due to the unrelenting cold wind sweeping down Peachtree Street.
“Hey, why are you all bundled up? We’re just going down the block,” Marianna pointed out as she joined Mikaela.
“Winter, wind,” she replied, shaking her head at the thigh-length white cardigan sweater Marianna had draped around her curvy body. “What is it you white people have against coats? Come on, even if the sun is sort of shining, it’s January and cold as hell.”
“Racist,” Marianna said. She pulled the hood of her sweater over her long wavy hair, then pushed open the door. “You’re jealous because you inherited thin black blood. I mean, shouldn’t you black people have adapted to America’s climate by now? The way you’re dressed you’d think we were going on an Arctic expedition.”
“When that wind blows up your cootie and gives you a cold, don’t even think of asking me to run to the drugstore and pick up medicine. Now come on before the wind gets to me.”
The House of Noodles was only a two-block walk from their building. But it was a cold two-block walk. Mikaela smirked but didn’t say anything when Marianna shivered once they were inside the warmth of the restaurant.
“God, did everybody decide to come here today?” Mikaela asked, taking in the line that stretched the length of a long wall and almost to the door.
“One word.” Marianna pulled a piece of paper from her slacks. “Coupon. I think everyone in downtown but you received one and decided to use it today. So, what’s up with you?”
“First, Talya tells me she wants me to apply for another job—”
“Is that the new way to say you’re fired?”
She almost laughed at the shocked look on Marianna’s face. “Not even close. It’s another job. A promotion. Problem is, I’m not sure I’m qualified. Seems Jolene’s actually retiring and Talya tells me first thing this morning that she thinks I should go for the job. And not only that. She’s already told Bill he should hire me for the job. Me! Then later on in the copy room, when my head’s still all messed up, Jolene’s making conversation. She’s leaving, blah, blah, blah. I’m all like sorry, blah, blah, blah, thinking it’s nothing until she tells me the job will be posted soon and that I should apply for it. How I would be perfect for it and Bill.” Mikaela shook her head. “Come on, she’s got to know the Righteous Three would have strokes and then make everyone’s life miserable. I don’t get it. Why pick me? Jolene, that is, not Talya. Talya has to say something nice. I do her work.”
“Why not you?” Marianna countered. “You work hard and you’re always going to some new training thing or another. As for the Righteous Three, how many times have you complained about them being stuck in the last century when it comes to technology and ideology?”
“That’s not strictly relevant.”
“Please. But say I disallow it for the sake of argument. How many times have you complained about them not wanting to do their jobs?” Marianna held up her hand when Mikaela opened her mouth. “Not finished. How many times have you bitched about them jokingly saying you’re trying to make them look bad by working so hard? And how many of them will have a college degree in May? Point, set and match.” She dusted her hands, then turned her attention to the menu hanging on the wall. “Winning makes me hungry. Oh yeah, Drunken Noodle Soup. I see what I’m having.”
“Let me get this right. I’m having a crisis of major proportions and all you can worry about is what you’re going to eat?”
“First, you asked me to lunch. Lunch means food,” Marianna added slowly as if talking to a half-wit. “And second, I already shattered your little crisis. Now quit worrying about unimportant things and tell me what you think of the new woman in security. Is she smoking or what?”
“Huh? I didn’t see anyone new.”
“You must have been brain-dead when you walked in this morning not to notice her.” Marianna let out a sharp breath. “She’s tall, blondish-brown hair, amazing blue eyes, athletic build with shoulders wide enough to lay your head on. I hear she’s Dickhead’s replacement.”
“Dickhead?” She stopped pouting over missing the new guard long enough to really pay attention. “Oh, you mean creepy guy who thought he was all that. Thank God he left. The words not interested must have been missing from his vocabulary because he sure didn’t understand them.”
Marianna laughed and wiggled her eyebrows. “Hopefully those words are missing from Sara’s vocabulary as well.”
“Hey, you’re a married spud. No checking out the ladies.”
“Erin doesn’t mind if I look. And I was thinking of you. It’s not like your last date was all that,” Marianna said with a smirk. “You know, the one you texted me about before it was even over?”
“That’s low. True, but low. And because it’s true I’m forced to ask if you know what Sara’s ex was like. I can’t spend another evening hearing one get so thoroughly trashed. Especially from a woman with the vocabulary of a preteen who’s just learned to curse. You can’t imagine how painful it was. Not to mention embarrassing. The worst part is that she was oblivious to the fact that she still loves her ex.”
“Painful, embarrassing and boring. Can’t get much worse. Does Casey understand how much trouble she’s in?”
“Gave her a little taste this morning. Planning to lay out the full-course meal tonight.”
Chapter Two
Tuesday morning, Sara again arrived ten minutes before the start of her shift at the basement-level office of Anderson and Company. Today would be a little different because she was finally going to meet, Jackson Davis, her boss at the building management company, who had been at training the day before. She was ready to get the meeting, the assessing, out of the way.
The office consisted of a large room with lockers on the back wall, along with the time clock and two smaller areas portioned off for the shift supervisors. Jackson Davis was seated at a photo-laden desk in the first cubicle.
“Good morning,” she said to get his attention.
“Morning. You must be Sara Gordon.” He held out a hand. As the day supervisor, he was responsible for the maintenance workers, the smaller day-time cleaning crew and the five first-shift guards. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks.” Jackson Davis was tall and lean. She judged him to be in his mid-fifties based on the lines on his face and the liberal sprinkling of gray in his hair. She’d heard he’d been working for the company for over thirty years and was a good boss.
“Okay if I look at last shift’s report?” she asked. She liked to have time to check over the report from the evening shift before clocking in. It was a habit she’d gotten into on her last job and it had saved her from running into trouble on a couple of occasions.
“Always. Things have been quiet since the holidays. Hope it stays that way.”
“Then yesterday was normal?”
“The biggest issue we run into is keeping the bums from wandering in off the street, trying to panhandle or steal. That happens, makes us look bad to our clients. Other than
that, we might get a disgruntled former employee looking to cause trouble. Doesn’t happen often. Mostly it’s about getting to know the people and making sure they feel safe. In addition, we welcome the visitors and help them get to where they need to go. But you probably heard all this yesterday.”
Sara hadn’t, but she replied, “Reinforcement never hurts.” She replaced the report, then neatly arranged her belongings in her locker.
“Couldn’t help notice you move around a lot.”
“Nothing weighing me down,” she replied since he seemed to expect an answer. “I like the change in scenery, seeing new cities.”
He nodded. “Today’s duty roster’s up on the board by the door.”
As Sara clocked in, the rest of the first shift began arriving. Her first duty was to check floors two through eight and make sure no homeless person had decided to set up camp for the night. She’d been warned that sometimes the crafty ones managed to sneak in and avoid the evening security check. They usually preferred the top floors because those were cleaned and secured first.
So far, the new job had been a piece of cake. She worked six thirty to three thirty, which meant traffic wasn’t an issue coming or going. And that she could get to the gym afterward and have a good workout with the weights or exercise equipment before the nine-to-fivers showed up.
After a clean sweep, she made her way to the lobby. Her next duty was to stand by the back doors, used by employees coming from the parking deck, and ensure the morning rush went smoothly. She smiled and nodded as the majority of the workers began to pour in, keeping an eye out for anyone who looked like they didn’t belong.
Full Circle Page 2
