Other People's Business

by Pamela Yaye

Autumn didn’t like the sound of that. She didn’t want him to drop off the face of the earth, she just wanted him to stop trying so hard. She liked him. There, she’d said it. She liked him and wanted to get to know him better, but she didn’t want to feel pressured to do it. Things would happen between them in good time; not because he was running the show. Autumn came around her desk and stood in front of him. “You got it all wrong, L.J. You’re not bothering me and I don’t want you to go away. I would feel more comfortable if we took things slow. You know, as friends first.”

  After a long pause, L.J. conceded. “We can take things as slow as you want.”

  His smile was contagious and Autumn found herself wearing it. Relieved that things had been smoothed over and they weren’t arguing anymore, she reached up and pressed her lips to his cheek.

  L.J. couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Can I have one of those on the lips?”

  “That depends on what you brought me to eat.”

  They both laughed.

  Autumn rested against her desk, crossed her legs in front of her and pointed to the basket. “You must have cooked something delicious, because something in there is making my stomach roar.”

  “I can’t take any credit. Aunt Fannie did the cooking. I just packed the basket.”

  Autumn’s nose crinkled. “There’s no cow foot in there, right?”

  L.J. was quick to laugh. Panic was streaking across Autumn’s face and her smile had turned to a frown. “No, maybe next time.” He put on his best French-waiter accent, and bowed at the waist. “On tonight’s menu, we have roast beef, potato salad, coleslaw, fresh butter biscuits and strawberry shortcake for dessert.”

  Autumn rubbed her hands across her stomach. “Sounds delicious.”

  L.J. dressed the desk with a white linen tablecloth and then unloaded disposable plates, cups and utensils. “I hope you don’t mind paper plates. I hate washing dishes.”

  “No problem.” Autumn still couldn’t believe that L.J. had brought her dinner. “You really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. I have a frozen pasta dinner at home just waiting to be popped into the microwave.”

  L.J. held out one of the padded chairs for her. “Woman, please. After a ten-hour workday consisting of meetings and more meetings, what you need is a home-cooked meal, not some cardboard dinner.” He pointed to the chair. “Now pipe down and sit.”

  Autumn’s lips curved into a smile. Well, I’ll be damned, she thought, following his orders. She was trying not to read too much into this, but she couldn’t prevent her mind from thinking ahead. This could be the first of many wonderful dates. L.J. likes me and I like him too and… Autumn planted her hands on her lap, and drove all crazy notions of a romance with L.J. from her mind. She waited until he was seated beside her before she started serving herself.

  L.J. stared down at her plate, his eyebrows lifted high.

  She met his eyes. “What?”

  “Thank God we didn’t go out for dinner, ’cause feeding you would have left me broke!”

  Autumn burst out laughing.

  Chapter 10

  When Autumn stepped off the elevator the following morning, she had the soothing rhythm of a Maxwell song in her head and a smile warming her face. She glided though the front doors and paused at the front desk to check her messages. “Good morning, Hilary, and how are you and the baby doing this glorious morning?”

  Hilary eased off her padded chair. Her ocean-blue eyes surveyed her unusually ebullient co-worker. “We’re good, but obviously not as good as you. Last night must have gone well because when I left at nine, you and your “friend” were still in your office. So, fill in the blanks. What happened after dinner?”

  Autumn shrugged off her military-green blazer and spread it over her arm. “We had a nice time, Hilary. Thanks for asking. See you at lunch!” Autumn rounded the corner before the expectant mother could pump her for any more particulars.

  Autumn was punching in her computer password when she heard a quick rap on the door. “Come in. It’s open.”

  Olivia practically skipped inside. “You’re the talk of the water cooler today!” She sat down in the chair directly in front of Autumn’s desk. “Tell me all about calendar boy and don’t leave anything out. Who is he? How did you meet? How long has this thing between the two of you been going on?”

  “Calendar boy?”

  Olivia explained. “Hilary claims your new mystery man should have his own beefcake calendar. Deborah, Sylvia and I readily agreed.”

  Autumn sipped her green tea, one eye on her computer screen and the other on Olivia. Her co-worker looked downright dowdy today. She had on a seaweed-green blouse, navy-blue slacks and her unruly hair was poking out of a white banana clip. Autumn didn’t care if Olivia had a seizure when they entered Pine Hill Mall, they were going shopping this weekend. “I have a lot of work to do, Olivia. Don’t you?”

  “Come on! Give me something.”

  Autumn refused to be drawn into a conversation. She picked up her pen and made short notes in the margin of the file in front of her. “L.J. and I are friends, Olivia. That’s it. I wish I had more to tell you but I don’t. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish this report.”

  “Have you guys kissed?”

  Autumn paused for a half second. At the end of their “date” last night, L.J. had escorted her to her car and once she was seated inside, he had captured her lips tenderly with his mouth. It had been another perfect kiss. He had perfect lips. And his sensuous technique had left her wanting more. Much more. Autumn shelved her thoughts temporarily. She could relive the kiss later. First, she had to get Olivia out of her hair. “That’s none of your business.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Did he ask you out again?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Autumn repeated.

  Olivia bounced up and down as if she were sitting on a coiled spring. “That’s two yeses! Good for you, Autumn. You deserve a nice guy after putting up with the likes of Tyrell.”

  Autumn couldn’t suppress her smile. Her bushy-haired friend couldn’t be more right. It was high time she met a nice guy. She didn’t know everything there was to know about L.J., but she liked what she knew so far. He couldn’t be any nicer if he tried.

  “Does calendar boy have a brother?”

  “Stop calling him that,” Autumn shot back. “His name is L.J. And for the tenth time he’s not my man. We’re just hanging out while he’s in town.” The corners of her mouth softened in a smile. “I don’t know if he has any brothers, Olivia, so I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

  “What do you mean, ‘I don’t know.’ You’ve tasted the man’s lips and you don’t know about his background!” Olivia’s baby-blue eyes were now moon-wide. “How long have you known this guy?”

  Autumn reluctantly filled Olivia in on the flat-tire situation, the Grisbey dinner and the night she had dropped him home from the movies. She considered her co-worker a friend and she didn’t want her to think she was the promiscuous type even if she had kissed L.J. before their first date.

  A knock on the door prevented Olivia from asking any follow-up questions.

  Autumn’s good mood dipped when she saw who was standing in the doorway. She plastered a smile on her face and stood. “Good morning, Ms. Barstow.”

  Olivia shot out of her chair. In a shaky voice, she said, “Thanks for the advice on the Fitz-Simmons case, Autumn. We’ll talk more about it later.” Olivia gave Ms. Barstow a half smile. She closed the door behind her, leaving Autumn at the mercy of their fault-finding boss.

  “I’ll finish analyzing the financial statements for WebTech before the close of the day and a typed report will be on your desk first thing tomorrow morning,” Autumn said. She clasped her hands behind her, so Ms. Barstow wouldn’t see them trembling.

  “No rush,” her boss replied casually. “If I slighted you at the staff meeting yesterday, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You’ve done an exceptional job for Monroe these last seven
years and all your past and present clients have nothing but praise for the work you do.”

  Autumn gripped the sides of her desk to steady her wobbly knees. The acclaim was long overdue, but it was a shock to hear the words from The Glacier. Autumn wanted to tell her boss it was about time she took notice of her work, but didn’t. Instead, she said, “Thank you, Ms. Barstow. It means a lot to me to hear you say that. I enjoy working for this firm and intend to for many more years to come.”

  “I do hope so, Ms. Nicholson. You are an invaluable asset to this company.”

  The two women shared a small smile.

  After a meaningful pause, Ms. Barstow spoke. “I will let you get back to the fine job that you are doing.” She marched back over to the door, and turned the handle. “Please give my regards to Mr. Saunders.”

  Autumn released a sigh of relief as she watched her boss disappear down the hall. She didn’t know what L.J. had said or done to thaw The Glacier, but she would be eternally grateful. And the first thing Autumn did when she arrived home later that night was call L.J. and tell him what Ms. Barstow had said word-for-word. When Autumn said, “I owe you big!” he chuckled loudly. They stayed on the phone for the rest of the night, talking about everything and anything, and when they hung up hours later, Autumn floated off to bed with a broad smile on her lips.

  By Friday morning, gossip about Autumn and her calendar boy had been replaced with discussions about the remarkable changes in Ms. Barstow. Instead of working, employees were busy trying to figure out who or what had melted The Glacier. Did she have a life-threatening illness? Was she being transferred? Fired? During lunch that afternoon, Autumn listened as Hilary, Olivia and Deborah speculated about the possible reasons for the swing in their boss’s mood.

  “She’s dying,” Hilary announced, stuffing a forkful of Cajun chicken salad in her open mouth. “My foster mother, Irene, used to be a nagging dictator just like The Glacier. That is, until she found out she had throat cancer. After a successful bout of chemotherapy, and some intense therapy sessions, she came out a completely different woman. It’s too bad it’s taken a life-threatening illness to transform Ms. Barstow.”

  Autumn laughed until she was holding her side. “Please! That woman will outlive us all. She sips seaweed drinks all day, pops ginseng capsules and has tried every type of anti-aging treatment under the sun. Mark my words, she’ll live to be a hundred.”

  Deborah joined in with everyone’s laughter. “I’m with Autumn. The Glacier isn’t going anywhere—she’s here to stay. I don’t know what’s going on with her and frankly I don’t care. You won’t see me complaining about her new and improved attitude. Just this morning, she asked how my son was adjusting to being at Wilshork Academy. I didn’t even know she knew I’d transferred him there! She told me if I ever have any concerns with the way things are being done at the school just to let her know. Apparently her best friend is president of the parent council board.”

  Hilary gasped. “The Glacier has friends?”

  The part-time receptionist, Jamilya Rivers, handed Autumn a giant bouquet of white lilies, then dusted the fallen petals into the waste basket beside her desk. Before returning to her post, she said, “They came while you were at lunch.”

  “Who sent them?”

  “Probably calendar boy.” When Jamilya saw the smile slip from the senior accountant’s face, she rephrased her reply. “What I meant to say was they’re probably from that young man who brought you dinner a few nights ago. You know, the tall, handsome one with the killer body. What was his name again?”

  Autumn dodged the question with a smile. “Is there a note?”

  Jamilya pointed to the top of the flowers.

  And sure enough, Autumn found a tiny white envelope peeking out of the bouquet. She ripped open the card and read the lone sentence. Counting down the minutes until I see you again: 1440. It took a second for Autumn to figure out the significance of the numbers. One thousand, four hundred and forty minutes until their next date. There was no signature, but the card and the flowers could only be from one person: calendar boy. Autumn took off down the hall like an arrow in flight. She was so busy smelling the lilies and rereading the one-line note, she nearly plowed down a junior accountant.

  “Sorry,” Autumn said, a wide smile on her face. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Ms. Nicholson, I’d like to have a word with you.”

  The sound of The Glacier’s voice made Autumn’s legs freeze. If Ms. Barstow was calling her into her office, it could only mean one thing: trouble. She racked her brain for what she might have done wrong. Did I make an error on the WebTech report? Did I miscalculate the figures? Did I forget something?

  Autumn took control of herself. So what if I’d made a mistake? It’s not the end of the world. I’ll apologize for the oversight and fix whatever’s wrong. No big deal. Autumn felt her confidence return as she approached her boss’s door. There was nothing The Glacier could do to kill her mood. L.J. had sent her the loveliest bouquet and as per his card, he was as excited as she was about their date tomorrow night. That was enough to eclipse whatever was coming.

  She hovered at the door until Ms. Barstow beckoned her inside. The office was dull; it had no personal effects, no color and the chairs and couches were about as comfortable as a bed of rocks. The walls were in need of a brighter, fresher color, and aside from the diplomas crowding the four walls and the generous size of the room, there was nothing to indicate that this was the boss’s office.

  Since Autumn spent more time in her office than anywhere else, she had invested time and money to make her workspace as comfortable as possible. That way when she was forced to spend late nights or the occasional Saturday afternoon at her desk, she had everything she needed at her fingertips.

  “The two weeks you requested off at the end of next month has been approved. As you know, Monroe doesn’t normally permit employees to take time off during our busy months, but I made an allowance for you. I expect that when you return you will be well rested and ready to tackle the summer workload.”

  “Most definitely. Thank you, Ms. Barstow.”

  The telephone buzzed, and her boss said, “Please excuse me.”

  Autumn smiled politely.

  “I’ll see you now, Mrs. Corrado.” Ms. Barstow replaced the receiver and turned her attention back to Autumn. “Do you have any plans for the weekend, Ms. Nicholson?”

  Autumn hesitated. She was entering her eighth year at Monroe and this was the first time her boss had ever asked her a personal question. She didn’t know whether to tell her the truth or give the obligatory response. “My parents are returning tonight from Martinique, so I’ll probably spend most of the weekend with them.”

  “My husband and I visited the island last year. It is absolutely stunning.”

  Autumn wanted to know more. “Have you and your husband traveled a lot?”

  Ms. Barstow leaned back in her deluxe leather chair, a faraway look finding its way into her brownish-gray eyes. “My husband loves to travel. I always tease him that he should have been a pilot instead of a small-business owner. He plans all of our holidays and he always chooses somewhere fresh and exciting. He goes all-out, too, planning everything from all-day guided tours to water activities and—”

  “You wanted to see me, Ms. Barstow?” Genieve Corrado stood in the doorway, shifting her weight from right to left. The tanned brunette resembled a terrified first-grader summoned to the principal’s office.

  Genieve was known as the office bellyacher, and if this was her exit call, Autumn only had two words for her: buh-bye. It was an open secret that she was shuffling her assignments off to her secretary, and the two-hour lunches she was so fond of taking had finally gotten back to the boss.

  Ms. Barstow didn’t even wait until Autumn was out of the office before asking Ms. Corrado if she wanted to keep her job. The Glacier has a long way to go, Autumn thought as she left. Ms. Barstow would probably never be cured of her insensitivity, but s
he’d made considerable improvements in three short days. And at the two o’clock staff meeting that afternoon, Ms. Barstow showed just how solicitous she could be. She concluded the meeting by dismissing everyone for the rest of the day. “Have a great weekend, and I will see you all bright and early Monday morning.” Not everyone, Autumn thought, noting Genieve’s absence.

  Chapter 11

  Bright, frilly sunflowers and flowerpots filled with pink and blue hyacinths lined the entrance to the sixteenth-century-style arbor. Autumn bustled through the arched steel opening, plopped down on one of the long-standing armchairs and sighed in relief. After taking a few minutes to catch her breath, she opened her makeup case and clicked open her compact. Autumn groaned loudly when she saw her reflection.

  Not only was she sweating like the main course at a pig roast, but her skin was blotchy and her lips looked sand-paper-dry. Dabbing her forehead with a face wipe and reapplying her lipgloss, she prayed L.J. wouldn’t hold her disheartening appearance against her. It was eighty-one degrees, well above the average temperature for this time of the year, and there wasn’t much she could do to contend with the unexpected spring heat.

  Autumn caught sight of L.J. just as she shoved her makeup case back into her purse. He was leaning against the steel archway following her every move with his eyes. He made eyes at her, so she made them right back. Autumn waited for him to say something—anything—but he just stood there, seemingly content to watch her. She had seen that look before. He had been wearing it when he’d held her in his arms at the Grisbey party. And in his aunt and uncle’s living room.

  Autumn reflected on the day. She had ended up with more than just the Saturday Post on her welcome mat when she had answered her front door some eight hours ago.

  “I know we made plans for tonight, but with the nice weather and all I thought we could make a day of it,” he had said. When she didn’t answer right away, he had flashed a smile so sweet her teeth ached. “My mother and fashion-crazed sister have threatened to disown me if I return home without gifts. Since you obviously have a great sense of style, I thought you could lend a hand. You know, help me pick out a few things? What do you say? In the mood to do some shopping?”