His Distraction

by Tanya Gallagher

  Her mother pressed her painted lips into a line. Annabelle Reese wore what she thought of as her novelist’s uniform: black denim and a silky, kimono-style shirt. Scarlet roses bloomed along her collarbones, and vines curled down to her wrists. With her blond hair and the same blue-gray eyes she passed to Vanessa, she was beautiful. If only she didn’t look like she was trying to be someone else.

  “I thought your temp agency had things under control,” Vanessa’s mother interjected.

  Annabelle Reese, ladies and gentlemen. Never one to back away from a sensitive subject. An asset for a writer, Vanessa guessed. Not so much for a mom.

  Senior year, when she and Vanessa should have been browsing through college catalogs together, Vanessa caught her sneaking a guy out the back door of their house. He was the editor of Seattle Magazine, and in the chaos that followed it came out that she’d been sleeping with him for months. Vanessa couldn’t help but think that every time her mom skipped out on one of her dance recitals or traveled for a writing assignment she was really cheating on her dad—and on Vanessa.

  The worst part was that in the end, Annabelle didn’t even stay with the guy. Instead, she fled to Europe, writing articles about her affairs from a different country each week and publishing them in Vanessa’s favorite magazines as if her school friends wouldn’t see them, too.

  When Annabelle got remarried to Bob the Boeing Executive last year, she landed back in Bellevue, just across Lake Washington from her daughter. Vanessa could count on one finger the number of times she’d been to their new house. Or two fingers, including today.

  Vanessa gritted her teeth and shuffled a lump of mashed potatoes from one side of her plate to the other. “My temp agency has been great for small roles, but I’m looking for a place where I can really have an effect on people’s lives.”

  Annabelle speared some asparagus. “Are you sure you don’t want a dance position? Mariana from yoga takes lessons at a studio over in Shoreline, and she mentioned they were looking for an instructor.”

  “My knee can’t handle that kind of impact anymore,” Vanessa said. “And anyway, I literally just said I want a social work role.”

  Annabelle set down her fork. “Don’t get cranky with me. I’m only trying to help.”

  She sighed. “Sorry. Sitting in traffic over the bridge tonight didn’t help my mood.” Honestly, it was just as well they normally had all these miles of water between them. This way Vanessa could be reasonably sure she wouldn’t run into her mom on a random trip to the movies, and Annabelle could rub elbows with the wealthy residents and pretend she didn’t have a daughter who was a disappointment. “I was hoping Bob might have some ideas.”

  “Right.” Her stepdad cut off a hunk of his pork chop, chewing thoughtfully. She breathed through her nose, the smell of the meat threatening to make her gag. “You sure you don’t want to come answer phones at Boeing?” Bob gestured at her with his bloody knife, and she tried not to take it personally. “You’ve got a nice voice.”

  Her crappy attitude toward Bob wasn’t entirely his fault. He just happened to land in the crossfire between her and her mom and, well, he lived with the woman by choice.

  It was funny because Vanessa’s mom was the source of her anxiety, but she was also half the reason she wanted to find a social work job. After Annabelle left, Vanessa was so tired of not knowing what was going to happen to her. She decided she wanted to help other people solve their problems, to be the one in charge of finding a solution instead of feeling so unstable in her life. That same uncertainty that pushed her to social work was also what made being a temp suck so much. Maybe Bob could help her find a full-time role so she could actually be in charge of her own destiny for a bit.

  She shook her head at her stepdad and offered another tight smile. “I’m not opposed to answering phones, but I’d at least like to be in the right field.”

  “Sure, sure. I can’t make any guarantees, but I’ll put in a good word for you.” Bob placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. She had only ever seen him wear button-downs, and tonight’s salmon-colored shirt was no exception. He was all business, all the time. “Now let’s talk about how we can get you to visit your mother more often.”

  Vanessa forced herself to smile, but something inside her died. Nothing in this world came for free.

  Vanessa walked through the doors of her apartment at almost ten p.m., the sound of gunfire echoing from the TV in her living room. She dropped her purse and strode toward the couch to investigate. Maybe someone’s fictional problems could put things into perspective for her.

  Bea and her boyfriend, Nick, sat in the glow of the TV, Aliens on the screen. Bea had her legs sprawled across Nick’s lap, and the two of them were twined together so casually that it made something inside Vanessa ache.

  Bea paused the movie and flicked her eyes up at her friend. “Hey lady, thought we’d see you earlier.”

  Nick waggled a half-empty bowl of popcorn in her direction. “You want?”

  “Is that my secret coconut oil and pink salt combination?” Vanessa asked. She’d taught him the recipe last year, and it had quickly become a fan favorite.

  Nick rolled his eyes. “Is there any other way to make popcorn?”

  “Smart man.” She grinned. “Give it here.” The only thing better than eating delicious food was eating delicious food that you didn’t have to cook for yourself. She accepted a handful of popcorn and dropped onto the couch next to Bea. “And to answer your other question, you didn’t see me because I was at my mom’s house.”

  “Your mom’s?” Bea’s eyes widened. She was well aware of the history Vanessa had with her mom, and she seemed almost as surprised as Vanessa was when she’d made the decision to go.

  Vanessa stuffed some popcorn into her mouth before she spoke, but it did nothing to hide the trace of bitterness that crept into her voice. “Well, after I got fired yesterday I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask Bob to put in some calls for me.”

  Bea dropped her hand to Vanessa’s knee. “Hold up. You got fired?” Vanessa nodded, her neck tight, and Bea gathered her into a quick hug. “I leave you alone for twenty-four hours and look what happens.”

  Vanessa snorted out a laugh, and tears burned the back of her throat. She knew crying wasn’t a weakness, but she wished she could stop. It was enough already.

  “It was pretty spectacular.”

  She could feel them staring at her, but she kept her eyes glued to the frozen screen. The Queen Alien was paused mid-attack, her mouths opened in a horrifying display of teeth and drool. Nothing like staring at the face of disaster.

  Finally, Nick spoke. “I don’t want to be insensitive, but you can’t leave us hanging.”

  She turned her head and gave him a wry smile. “Well, first I got fired, and then my boss gave me some bullshit explanation when I confronted him. It was a bang-up day.” She left out the part about the lunch beforehand where Jeremy had actually been nice to her. More than nice—he’d flirted with her. How the hell did that fit into the picture?

  “Why did he fire you?” Bea gasped.

  “His excuse was that I’d messed up a super minor thing. Apparently they only hire robots.”

  Their stunned expressions said it all, but Nick’s, “Holy shit,” was icing on the cake.

  “That’s what I said.” She shoved another handful of popcorn into her mouth. After feeling nauseated at dinner, she was suddenly ravenous.

  Bea fisted her hands in her lap. “How can they do that to you?”

  Vanessa shrugged. “I’m a temp. They can let me go at any time. And according to them, they no longer need me. Even though we’d literally just got back from celebrating how awesome I’ve been doing.”

  “Sounds like my cue to grab us some wine,” Nick said. He swung Bea’s legs off his lap and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Bea leaned closer to her. “So who was this guy?”

  Vanessa waved her hand in the air, but really she should have been wavin
g her middle finger. “Jeremy Glass. Sex toy company CEO. Megawatt asshole.”

  Bea pulled out her phone and tapped in a quick Google search. “Tell me exactly what he said.” Instead of being indignant on her behalf, Bea halfway swooned when she found whatever she was looking for on her phone. “Is this him?”

  Bea flipped her phone to face Vanessa, and the screen displayed a photo of Jeremy at some gala with his arm around a perky blonde. Vanessa tried not to think about why the sight of him with another woman made her so angry. She also tried not to stare at the way his tux clung to the hard muscles of his body—his broad shoulders and trim waist. She was obviously unsuccessful. Why did he have to look like that?

  “That’s him.”

  Bea sighed and patted Vanessa’s leg. “I know firing you was a dick move and blah, blah, blah feminism. But, damn. This man is gorgeous.”

  “And also unforgivable.” Other women may have been impressed by his pretty face, but Vanessa wasn’t other women. She knew too much to be fooled.

  “I’m sorry this had to happen.”

  “Me too. I’m going to miss my coworkers, not to mention the view. But, apparently, no matter how well I fit in at the office, it doesn’t change Jeremy’s decision.”

  Nick returned from the kitchen, and Vanessa gladly accepted the wine he offered. “So what are you going to do now?” he asked.

  “Cross my fingers and hope Bob comes through with a job.”

  She took a deep, steadying sip of wine. It may have been Two Buck Chuck but it sure as hell would take the edge off. Tomorrow she’d start her new life. Tonight she wanted to forget.

  Chapter 10

  “She’s here.”

  Jeremy blinked, his vision slowly adjusting to the darkness. He was in his room at home. Regrettably alone, to his knowledge. So who was ‘she’?

  He kept the phone to his ear and sat up in bed, scattering the remains of his dream along with the quarterly and annual projections Alex, his Controller, had printed for him. Apparently, he’d caught his first real night of sleep in weeks thanks to the mind-numbing task of reviewing yet more numbers. Or partial night, anyway. Too bad all good things came to an end.

  Jeremy was dehydrated, and his head felt full of cotton, his mouth dry. It took a minute for his mind to spin back to reality, to Ramon’s voice bursting with pride.

  Emilia. Ramon meant Emilia. But she couldn’t be here.

  “She’s early,” Jeremy said. A thrill of panic raced through his chest and sent a wave of sweat down his spine.

  “She’s healthy though. And beautiful.”

  God, Jeremy was an ass. All he had been thinking about was that date on his calendar: forty days until the trip to Yessir Unlimited. He was going to be out his wingman, his sounding board. Not that any of his selfish concerns mattered compared to a premature baby.

  He made his voice go light. “If she’s a looker she must take after her mother.”

  Ramon chuckled, and a small, plaintive cry warbled in the background. Emilia. She was real. She was here. And that deserved a celebration.

  Jeremy’s voice was rough with emotion when he offered his congratulations. “Thank you for calling. Now go back to your family.”

  Family. There was still a strange magic to the word. For all the ways he had been let down by his own family—or his dad, at least—he’d also had the luxury of a found family. Ramon was part of the family he had chosen for himself, but now he was also part of his own trifecta, surrounded by women. Maybe if he was lucky one day, too, Jeremy might find his own woman.

  But not right now. Jeremy’s trifecta was still the same: work, sex, exercise. And since he was up now, he might as well hit the gym.

  Jeremy strode into X Enterprises a few sweaty hours later, his mind cleared by the burst of endorphins that a good workout could consistently provide. But the mess on Ramon’s desk, leftover from last week, stopped him before he made it into his own office.

  Emilia had come so early Ramon hadn’t even packed up his things to bring home. Her middle-of-the-night appearance had been subtle, but Jeremy supposed it was better than Ramon getting a dramatic “I’m in labor” call from Maya at the office. Subtle was a good thing. It wasn’t just Jeremy who needed to focus now, it was his employees too.

  Stories about the five-pound bundle of diapers who’d arrived last night buzzed around him as he dumped out an old printer paper box and carried it into Ramon’s office. It wasn’t like Ramon wasn’t coming back, but who knew if he’d need this particular coffee mug or pair of running shoes? Jeremy tossed the lot into the box and hefted it under his arm. For someone so streamlined in his professional life, Ramon sure had a lot of crap.

  Jeremy carried the box into his office, setting it on the console by the door before calling Alex in to see him. He’d finished reading through the reports from his Controller this morning, and a thought scratched at the back of his mind.

  He spoke before Alex could completely sink into the guest chair—the better to keep him off balance. “Are you sure you double-checked the annual projections?”

  Alex nodded briskly, his hands gripping the armrest. “I’m sure.”

  Jeremy didn’t buy it. “There’s pretty sure, and then there’s sure. And that’s a multi-million dollar difference.” He pinned Alex with a sharp look. “Are you sure you’re sure?”

  Alex’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I guess I’m pretty sure.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Jeremy tossed the report back at him, and it landed with a whump on the desk. He must have killed a whole tree printing the stupid thing. Maybe he should take the cost out of the man’s paycheck. “Because if you had actually checked, you would have noticed that the annual projections for this year are showing lower than last year’s, and I know damn well that we’re tracking higher.”

  “There must be a mistake,” Alex protested.

  “That’s what I’m saying.” He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp in the otherwise silent room. “You look to be off by about a month’s sales forecast.”

  Alex reached for the papers. “I’ll check the report again.”

  He offered a condescending smile. “That’s a good plan.”

  Jeremy dismissed Alex and watched the man’s retreating back with a sigh. He had acted like a dick again, but he needed to prove he was in control of this operation. He was the boss and sometimes the way to get your message across was to cut through the bullshit niceties.

  Jeremy was so caught up in his thoughts that when his phone rang he automatically answered it instead of routing it through the receptionist like was his habit.

  “Well hi there, Stud.”

  Shit. His skin prickled. “Amy.” She was the only one who’d ever called him “Stud,” and the name felt like some cheap substitution for intimacy. Not that he wanted any with her.

  “I tried to get Ramon on the phone,” she said, ignoring his cool tone.

  “He’s out on paternity leave.”

  Her voice was wry. “Wife and a kid and a house.” The fact that she knew so much about Ramon had nothing to do with her personal feelings for him. Jeremy’s friend had been the Sales Manager for a long time, but all Amy cared about was that she had knowledge she could use as leverage. Jeremy just didn’t know how she planned to exploit that information. “Jeremy, I think you’re falling behind.”

  He was not going to take a hit about his relationship status, especially from his ex. And if this was a roundabout way of proposing herself as marriage material she was crazier than he’d thought.

  “What can I help you with, Amy?” Just like her dad, she had trouble getting to the point.

  “Well if Ramon’s not there let me talk to Vanessa.”

  His mouth felt tight. “She’s gone too.”

  “What?”

  “She…left.”

  Now Amy’s voice rang cold and mocking. “I do believe you’re losing your touch.” She didn’t need to be thinking about his touch in any capacity. Amy continued, “So who’s hand
ling my account now? Some incompetent temp?”

  He cringed. Part of the ruse with firing Vanessa was that he’d have to stick to his story about saving money. Which meant he couldn’t bring anyone in to fill the gap.

  “We don’t have a replacement. Guess that leaves me.”

  “No offense, Stud, but it’s a little below you to be answering status requests. And you’ve got a million other things to handle.” He could hear the pout in Amy’s voice. “Somehow I think I’m going to get neglected.”

  He gritted his teeth. “You won’t.”

  Amy snorted. “Hmmm. Ramon I understand. But I’d prefer if you get Vanessa back. She was actually one of the good ones.”

  Jeremy bristled. He knew Vanessa was good—Ramon had told him so himself. And he trusted Ramon’s judgment a hell of a lot more than Amy’s. Still, it was the being told what to do part that rubbed. That and the fact that—thanks to the possible offer from Yessir—Jeremy actually needed to listen.

  “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

  “You need to make it possible,” Amy said. “You do want to please me, don’t you?”

  He wanted to reach through the phone and wipe away the smile he was sure Amy was wearing. Instead, he drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. There were millions and millions of dollars on the table. He needed to sound like the kind of agreeable man you’d want to buy out of his business. He could curse Amy all he wanted once he hung up the phone. “We certainly value our relationship with Yessir Unlimited. And we would like to demonstrate that to you.”

  “Very good, then.” Amy’s gloating voice sang on the other end of the line. “Get Vanessa back. And keep me posted.”

  Jeremy dropped the phone onto its cradle and glanced at the clock. Jesus. How was it only ten o’clock? This day had gotten away from him faster than a pig covered in lube.

  Jeremy rubbed a hand over his eyes. Vanessa, huh? What the hell had she done to impress Amy in just two weeks? He had to admit the prospect of seeing her again intrigued him. His interest in Vanessa had never been the problem. But after what he’d done to her, after what he’d said to her, there was no chance in hell she was going to come back to work for him. Frankly, she was too smart for that. If he were in her shoes, he wouldn’t come back either. But he had to try.