by Gail Sattler
Bart chuckled again. “I hope I haven’t pushed my luck, but speaking of business, I need a favor.”
“What?” Bob snapped as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I can’t go to the Chamber of Commerce dinner. Anna didn’t realize it was tonight, and she bought tickets for a play. She got dinner reservations, a babysitter and everything. Can you go for me?”
Bob tapped the socket wrench repeatedly into his palm as he contemplated Bart’s request. It was part of their agreement as partners that Bart would attend the few social functions related to their business, and Bob would meet with their suppliers. Occasionally they reversed the roles, but it hadn’t taken long to see that Bart did better in group situations, and Bob did better working one-on-one.
But he couldn’t turn down his friend’s request.
“Yeah. I can go for you.”
One corner of Bart’s mouth turned up. “Actually, I was thinking…. Why don’t you ask George? You know you hate handling this stuff alone.”
Bob glanced at George, who was haggling with a customer over the price of an overhaul. She was good with people, of that there was no doubt. Bob thought he would enjoy going to the Chamber banquet with George, those Thursday-evening dinners were fun and a chance to talk about what was happening at work. It may have been a bit odd, but they both found they needed—and wanted—the break from the shop.
But there were times they didn’t talk strictly business, and it was those times that gave Bob pause about asking her to accompany him. Every time Tyler took her to another “event,” she spent a large part of the next Thursday evening complaining bitterly to Bob, both about Tyler and about the evenings. She always thanked Bob profusely for letting her vent her frustration, making him feel as if he’d been at least helpful.
It would have been nice not to go to the Chamber banquet by himself, but Bob knew George didn’t enjoy such things.
He turned back to Bart. “It’s okay. It’s only a couple of hours. I’ll go alone.”
Chapter Seven
Georgette walked into the boutique with the bag containing her father’s latest purchase tucked under her arm. She sucked in a deep breath and made her way to the counter.
“I’d like to exchange this dress,” she said to the clerk, who frowned making it very clear that the store didn’t approve of returns.
“Of course. What seems to be the problem?”
“I really don’t like it. I want to exchange it for something more suitable. I need something classic and more understated.” In other words, Georgette wanted something that would help her fade into the woodwork.
The clerk pulled the dress out of the bag. Her frown deepened. “This is odd. A gentleman bought this dress yesterday…” her voice trailed off. “Wait. William Ecklington bought this. You must be Georgette.” She extended one hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you finally.”
Georgette smiled politely. They had met once before, but in the shadow of her father, the woman had barely acknowledged her presence. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. I have no idea how much my father paid for this dress, so please show me which things would constitute a straight exchange.”
The woman directed her to an alcove at the back of the store, bearing a sign reading Designer Fashions, New Arrivals. Georgette couldn’t see any prices from where she stood, but the security guard lurking at the entrance to the alcove made it obvious they were the most expensive in the store.
“Anything from this area can be a straight exchange.”
She quickly sorted through the racks, and selected a dark-green sheath with no adornments other than a single black button at the throat. It was a simple dress, but she didn’t care how she looked in it. She wanted it only for the color.
The dress was the same green as Bob’s eyes.
“I’ll take this one.”
“Don’t you want to try it on?”
That’s not necessary, I love it and I know it will fit.”
The woman entered the exchange in the computer, put Georgette’s selection in a bag and wished her a pleasant evening.
“Thank you,” Georgette said as she turned around and returned to her car. She doubted she would have a pleasant evening. Not only was she again forced to spend another evening with Tyler, but her father would also be there.
Bob straightened his tie, and walked into the banquet hall. He hated formal functions, but today’s dinner was a buffet rather than sit-down meal, which allowed the guests to mingle more freely. It also meant he could leave early.
He chatted with a few people he knew, as he filled his plate, when a face he hadn’t expected to see caught his attention.
Almost as if she felt his eyes on her, George turned around. The second they made eye contact, her mouth opened slightly in visible surprise. She spoke to a man to her right and left the group of people to join Bob.
Bob smiled at the sight of her. Normally, George dressed well, at least first thing in the morning. But tonight, she was positively striking.
“Hey, George. Nice dress,” he said softly, meaning only to compliment, and not to make it look as though he was ogling her. “That color really suits you.”
A slight blush highlighted her cheeks. “Thanks.” Her voice lowered. “What are you doing here?”
Bob glanced at the group she’d just left, recognizing Tyler. “Bart couldn’t make it, so I agreed to come for him. Are you enjoying yourself?”
She looked down at her plate, picked up a canapé, popped it into her mouth and grinned. “I didn’t think I would have a good time, but I discovered a trick. I can put a polite amount of food on my plate, eat it all, then go back for seconds. I just have to make sure I join up with a different group of people each time, which isn’t hard with a crowd like this.” She pointed to her plate. “This is my fifth round of ‘seconds.’ Not bad, don’t you think?”
His smile dropped. “So you’re here with Tyler?”
“Uh…yes.” She turned and searched the room, then quickly turned back to him. “But my father is here, too. My father knows Tyler’s family quite well.”
Part of him wanted to ask her to introduce him to her father, but part him wanted to run and hide, even though he knew the impulse was foolish. He wasn’t dating George, and even if he were, he was well past the age of it being rational to fear a girlfriend’s father. Once again, he glanced to the group of people she’d been with. “I guess I should let you get back to Tyler, and I’ll go find—”
A tall man with graying hair appeared beside George, cutting off Bob’s words. “Georgette, honey. I’ve been looking for you.” The man turned to Bob. “I’m William Ecklington. Have we met before?” William shuffled his plate to his left hand, and extended his right.
Bob did the same, returning George’s father’s handshake.
“No. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Bob Delanio.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Delanio.” William’s eyes flitted to Bob’s off-the-rack suit, a sharp contrast to his tailor-made one. “I’m curious. How do you know my daughter?”
“I’m—”
“Daddy, why don’t we sit down at one of the tables to talk? It’s almost time for the speaker, and we should get good seats.”
William frowned at her interruption, then turned back to Bob. “I suppose.”
As they walked toward a free table, George turned quickly to him, and mouthed a word that looked like “help,” which made no sense to Bob.
The second they were seated, George leaned toward her father. “Mr. Delanio is my boss, Daddy. He’s the co-owner, with his partner.”
William picked up a canapé and inspected it, replacing it on his plate before addressing Bob. “I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to my daughter since she started working for your corporation. What is it exactly she does for you?”
“Uh…” While he and Bart had decided a few years ago to incorporate, they’d never thought of the tiny repair shop as a “corporation.” “Well, your daughter is m
y…” Under the table, Bob felt a sharp tapping on his ankle, halting his words. He raised one hand to his mouth and pretended to cough to give himself some time to figure out why George was kicking him.
“Administrative assistant, Daddy. I’m positive I told you that before. Please, let’s not talk so much business tonight. I hear these shrimp canapés are simply divine. You should go get more, before they run out.”
Instead of leaving, William pushed his plate away.
“That’s okay, I’ve had enough. Tell me, has my daughter been doing a good job for you?”
Bob picked up a shrimp canapé and popped it into his mouth, hoping that chewing would buy him some time to assimilate the image she wanted him to project. He’d never had an administrative assistant. He didn’t even know what one did. George did the bookkeeping, which was the only office-type function needed.
“She handles all our accounting.”
William frowned. “Accounting?”
Again, Bob felt a sharp tap on his ankle.
“Yes, but that’s only a small part of her duties. George…” His words cut off at another sharp tap at his ankle.
“…ette,” he continued, noting an almost inaudible sigh from George, “has been instrumental in expanding our customer base.” He rubbed the spot with the top of his other foot. He wasn’t wearing his safety boots. If the kicking didn’t stop, he was going to have a very sore left foot.
William smiled, and when William smiled, George smiled, telling Bob that he was saying what they both wanted to hear.
He wasn’t lying. Upon completion of all work orders, they routinely asked new customers how they’d found out about the shop. Lately, a number of people said a friend had been impressed by the new mechanic, and had recommended them. Reading between the lines, he knew a number of the younger, single men had simply come to check out the hot chick. Still, it was new business, and he had to give George the credit for it.
William leaned back in his chair. “I was very surprised she had taken a job. I’m glad she’s doing well.”
“Yes. She’s been very good for the company.”
“So, Mr. Delanio, what is it your company does?”
George’s eyes opened farther than Bob had ever seen, and he could see the beginning of panic as her whole body went stiff.
Bob couldn’t bear to watch her; he cleared his throat. “We deal mostly with the automotive industry. Because of your daughter, we’re now in a position to expand.” By adding another phone line.
“Ah.” William nodded. “So it’s a small company. My company began that way, of course, but it has never been small in my lifetime. The chain was founded by my grandfather, passed on through two generations. I’m chairman of the board now, but I insist on overseeing the area managers, who oversee the individual stores coast to coast. A smart businessman pays attention to details.”
Bob’s stomach lurched, and all the good food he’d eaten so far turned to a lump in his stomach. He recognized the name. He’d read in the financial section of the paper recently that William Ecklington’s chain of department stores had topped sales from previous years, and the value of the stocks had taken an unprecedented jump.
Bob tried not to feel intimidated and failed. Of course he’d noticed her last name, but he’d never connected her with those Ecklingtons. He didn’t understand why George was working for his pitiful little local garage when she came from such a wealthy family.
William stood. “If you’ll excuse me, there are a number of other people I have to talk to. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Delanio. I hope to see you again at the next Chamber function.”
Bob stood. “Usually it’s my partner who attends these functions, but it’s been a pleasure meeting you, too.”
Bob shook William’s hand and they parted company. He immediately turned to George, his plate of food forgotten.
George’s lower lip trembled as her eyes widened. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I suppose I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”
Bob’s voice lowered. “Yes, and I think we’d best go outside.”
Chapter Eight
Georgette hadn’t been looking forward to attending another function with Tyler, but never in her worst nightmares could she have foreseen what had just happened. She nodded, and followed Bob outside to the patio, to a bench at the edge of the deck, away from the other people who were also outside.
She sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then exhaled deeply. “I don’t know what to say.”
Bob didn’t respond.
Georgette didn’t think that was a good sign.
“Am I fired?” she asked, trying to hold her voice steady.
“I don’t know what to say either. I can’t fire you when you’re doing a good job. But I don’t understand why in the world you’re working at my little garage when you’re an heiress. Don’t you have something better to do with your time?”
“I need this job, but not for the reason you think.” She paused, and lowered her voice. “My father is smothering me. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Bob remained silent.
“I’m so sorry, Bob. I was afraid to tell you.” She turned her head away, so he couldn’t see her face. “But by waiting, I’ve only made it worse.” Georgette stared off into the darkening night sky, and sighed. “I don’t know if this is going to come out right. I know it makes me sound very ungrateful. I get all the financial benefits of being my father’s daughter, but I’m so unhappy. My father refuses to give me a chance to prove myself or do anything worthwhile.”
“Certainly there’s a place for you somewhere in his corporation,” Bob said wryly.
Georgette shook her head. “You’d think so, but he won’t give me a chance. I even told him I’d go to university, but my father wouldn’t pay for anything business or finance related. He said if I want to go to university, I have to take something in arts and sciences.”
Bob stiffened. “When Bart and I first started the shop, I couldn’t afford to go to university. My family helped me pay for a few business courses at the local community college. The rest I learned by experience, mostly the hard way.”
Georgette hunched her shoulders and lowered her head. “My father has made it very clear he that he doesn’t think either my sister or I are capable of running the business. He said once I get married, he’ll make my husband a junior partner, or give him some kind of management job, like he did for my sister’s husband, but other than that, he doesn’t believe in husbands and wives working together. Or fathers and daughters. The only way I’ll ever be a part of the business is to marry someone my father finds suitable, and hope he can convince my father to let me do something even as insignificant as filing. But I can’t see that happening. Otherwise, the only other way is to wait until my father dies, and I inherit part of the business. I don’t want either one to happen. I want to control my own future.”
“And you think working as a junior mechanic is a bright future?”
She stared down at her shoes. “Maybe not. But at least I’m happy. I really feel God pointed me in the direction of your shop that day. At the end of the day I go home feeling as though I’ve done something to deserve my paycheck.” Her voice dropped to a scratchy whisper. “The allowance my father gives me is a pay-off to be seen at his side like the family dog. I like to think I’m worth more than that.”
“But he seemed happy that you’re my administrative assistant, though it’s a pretty lofty title within a three-person operation.”
Georgette still couldn’t look at Bob and began to absently play with a leaf hanging near the armrest of the bench. “At first, he was angry that I even found a job, so I stretched the part about my function as your bookkeeper, and omitted the mechanic part. I meant to tell him, but for the first time in so long, he seemed really proud of me, watching me leave all dressed up to go to work in the morning. I later found out that it was because he thought I had taken a job in order to find a husband. By then it to was to
o late to tell him everything.”
“So that’s why you come to work all dressed up.”
All she could do was nod.
He remained silent for a few minutes. “We should go back inside so we don’t miss the speaker. I guess you’re sitting with Tyler.”
“Yes.”
“What’s up with Tyler, anyway? I can’t figure out how he fits into this picture. He obviously knows you’re working for me in a not-so-glamorous position.”
“That’s the point. He knows about my job, and he said he’ll do me a favor and not tell my father if I help him make contacts to further his position.”
“That’s not a favor. That’s blackmail.”
“I know. But I don’t have any other choice.”
“But now your father has met me.”
Georgette shook her head. “Nothing has changed. From what he sees, you’re an executive, and I’m your administrative assistant. Now it seems I’ve only dug myself in deeper. I don’t know what to do.”
“There’s a proverb from the Bible about that. I forget exactly how it goes, but it says that if you trap yourself by what you’ve said, then humble yourself and talk about it with that person, and don’t wait. God gives us good advice. You tell me every Thursday how Tyler forces you to go places you don’t want to be, and now I understand. So you didn’t want to be here either, huh?”
Georgette looked at Bob. Her father thought the world of Tyler, even knowing Tyler often manipulated and coerced people and situations to get what he wanted. But Bob would never do that. Bob was ten times the man Tyler could ever be.
“You’re right of course. I can’t take much more of this. It’s driving me crazy.”
He stood, as did Georgette.
“Things like this drive me crazy, too. And on that note, we should take our seats.” he said. “I probably won’t see you until church Sunday night.”
“Thanks, Bob. For everything.”
He nodded, then walked away.
Georgette made it back to the table to sit with Tyler just as the master of ceremonies stepped up to the podium to make a few announcements and introduce the speaker.
