Coming To Reason (A Long Road to Love)

by O'Connor, Liza

  “Oh, God!” Carrie’s hands fluttered. Dan had promised her sex was not part of the job.

  Jeff rubbed his temple. “Once I got over the embarrassment of having offered myself to the man, I asked him why he thought you would do such a thing.”

  “And?”

  “He said your former boss has a harem of girls and, while he’d never had you before, he believed you one of them.”

  “Trent doesn’t have a harem!”

  “Don’t yell at me. I just wanted you to know what he said.”

  “The guy’s a jerk and a liar.”

  “I find him most reliable.”

  “What the hell do you mean?”

  His hands flew up in surrender. “You know what? I’m sorry I said anything. However, I don’t want you around my clients in the future, so tell Greg to find you someone else.”

  As he turned to leave, Carrie gripped his arm. “I’m sorry. I had no right to kill the messenger. But I worked so hard to turn Trent’s company around, and yes, the new sales people are pretty young women, but I trained them. They know their job. They can determine a client’s needs in chairs and describe both the Lancaster products and the equivalent of the competitors.”

  “Good for them.” He once again tried to leave.

  “Jeff, I want to train under you. You are far superior to any of the others I’ve met. Give me another chance. I won’t talk to the customers if you don’t want me to. But I need to learn how to do the job right.”

  He ran his long fingers through his hair. “All right, but you cannot tell any more customers you worked at Lancaster Chairs.”

  She opened her mouth to reiterate no pimping occurred at Lancaster Chairs, but realized it didn’t matter. He wanted a promise she could give. “I will never mention its name again.

  In between clients, Carrie rushed back to Destiny’s office and recorded more data, on occasion locating a glitch in the process, which they would fix together.

  Thus, by the end of the day, not only had she sat in on five client meetings, getting an excellent perspective on handling the customers, but she’d inputted all the client specs, and they’d debugged the new interface. She and Destiny returned the paper docs to Greg. Carrie placed them in his ‘to file’ tray, while Destiny showed him the new input page.

  For a moment, he remained silent. In fact, he almost looked angry. After a deep breath, he spoke with intense control. “Destiny, if you knew how to do this, why didn’t you do it before now?”

  Destiny’s eyes rounded in outrage. “I didn’t know how to do anything in this software. If a manual ever existed, it disappeared before I arrived. However, Carrie suggested we call the manufacturer and after fifteen minutes of pass the potato, someone finally admitted they had an electronic document which I, as systems manager, had a right to access. And voila! You have a format your people can fill out, so you don’t need to ever do this again.”

  Greg hugged the girl as if she’d saved his life.

  Chapter 4

  Greg asked a guy flirting with a young woman to find Carrie an open office. Romeo muttered about all the work he could be doing as he waved her to follow. At the end of the hall, he stopped and pointed at a door. “Yours,” he snapped and hurried away.

  Compared to Jeff’s office, her office came from the wrong side of the tracks. It was less than a quarter the size of his and lacked windows, being an inside office. The pale blue carpet was worn to its backing near the door, or maybe it needed cleaned. Either way, she hated it. The dull white dusty walls looked as if they’d never been painted. All in all, the place ranked as the ugliest closet she’d ever seen.

  She sat down and grimaced. First thing, she planned to order a new chair, even if she had to pay for it herself.

  The small, but real wood desk had probably been expensive back in the 1800s when some craftsman built it. But life had not been kind to its surface. It had more scars and nicks than a wooden bench at a beaver pond.

  A good sanding along with a coat of stain and polyurethane might cheer it up. She’d come in on Saturday and work on it. Maybe Trent would help.

  Her mind pictured a Lucille Ball scene with Trent sanding holes in her desk. Better to come in on Sunday and do it alone.

  The porcelain handle came off when she tugged on the bottom drawer. Mentally, she added ‘bring tools’ to her weekend project to-do list. She’d need her whole weekend to repair the desk. Maybe she’d arrange to meet Trent after she finished the job.

  Thinking of Trent made her smile. He’d be so impressed with how fast she’d found new employment. They could go out and celebrate tonight, and he could tell her about his workday, too. The thought of him going eight hours without her assistance worried her. She suspected he’d had a day in hell.

  She reached in her purse and discovered her cell phone missing. The phone on the desk looked built in this century, so she called Trent at his office, but no one answered. His first day without her and he left before six? How? He should have been swamped with work.

  Unless he had a heart attack from the stress. She dialed his cell phone.

  At the third ring, she began to panic, hung up, and called his driver Sam.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “Is Trent okay?”

  After a long pause, he asked, “Who is this?”

  “Who do you think? Carrie. I tried calling him but he didn’t answer. I feared his first day without me had killed him.”

  Sam chuckled. “If only, but no. Master Trent remains alive and well.”

  Carrie understood his love/hate relationship with Trent better since she’d learned they were half-brothers. “Are you okay, Sam?”

  “I’m fine. Why would you think otherwise? Oh, this is about my removing your laptop, iPad, and cell phone? No, I’ve not taken up stealing to appease the anger festering inside me. Trent said he’d fire me if I didn’t take them.”

  “I didn’t mean…Trent took my cell phone?”

  “No. I took your phone so I could keep this fabulous fucking job.”

  “The phone belonged to me. I paid for it when I first started working for Trent. He said I didn’t warrant a phone, and given how often he threatened to fire me, I could see his point.

  “Crap! Send me a bill, and I’ll get you reimbursed.”

  “No, I want my phone back.”

  “Your phone committed suicide this morning by leaping out of the window of the limo and diving into the Hudson River. Buy a new phone and send me the bill.”

  “I’ll take it up with Trent.”

  “Fine. When it doesn’t work, I’ll get you reimbursed. I have to go now. I’m at Dawn’s apartment.”

  She smiled. “Are you two back together?”

  “As of this morning, yes.”

  “I’m so happy for you. Tell her hello for me.”

  “Not happening,” he snapped before the line went dead.

  Clearly, rudeness ran in the Lancaster blood.

  She tried Trent’s number again, but he still wouldn’t pick up. She tried Mars, the penthouse butler. Trent’s Long Island butler oddly went by Mars, as well. They had different names, Marston and Martin, but both wished to be called Mars, which saved Trent from having to remember two names.

  “Lancaster residence, how may I be of service?” Mars answered with deep, rounded vowels.

  “You answer the phone so nicely. Maybe you could teach Sam some phone manners.”

  He chuckled. “I have tried, believe me. How are you doing, Miss Carrie?”

  She sensed great concern in his voice, but had no idea why. “I’m doing great. I got a new job this morning, and my first day went very well.”

  “Excellent news! Nothing like a new job to take one’s mind off of other matters.”

  Man, he must think leaving Lancaster Chairs devastated me. “I needed to leave. I had run out of things to improve.”

  “Well, you worked miracles, and for a short time, you made my job much easier. Unfortunately, there are people in life who d
efy change.

  His response had her worried. Mars normally stayed on topic. Did Trent misbehave on his first day of independence? Tossing her phone out the window hinted at the possibility.

  “I called you because Trent can’t recognize the phone number I’m calling from and thus refuses to pick up the phone. Would you let him know I’m trying to call him?”

  “Do you think it’s wise?”

  So he did have a bad day! The revelation pleased her. She didn’t want to be so easy to replace.

  “I’ve news to cheer him up.”

  “I’ll let him know then. I’m glad I had a chance to say good-bye,” Mars said.

  “Are you leaving?”

  “I am. The Long Island Mars is retiring and I’m taking his place.”

  “You’ll do great! I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thank you. And I believe you will go on and do great things yourself. Change can be invigorating.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  After wishing her the best in life, Mars hung up.

  Carrie spent five minutes investigating the dirty drawers of her old desk.

  Note to self: bring cleaning spray and paper towels.

  She tried Trent’s number again. This time, he answered on the first ring.

  “Where the hell are you? I’ve been calling you all day.”

  Ah, those genetic bad phone manners. “I left early this morning to job hunt.”

  “Well, if you’d have bothered to answer your damn phone, you would know I already got you a job.”

  God, he sounded as horrible as he had when she first started working for him. Her absence must have caused a major regression. She decided to overlook his outrage at her for not answering her phone, which now slept with the fishies.

  She’d planned to tell him about her job, but if it sounded less than the one he had found, he’d expect her to drop Dan’s and take his, and she couldn’t. Dan needed her help, more than he even knew.

  “So tell me about the job.” Please be less. Please be less. Please be less!

  “Secretary for the manager of a distribution center in Trenton.”

  Thumping her chest to stop from choking, she replied, “Trenton? That’s a worse commute than going into the city.”

  “Carrie, it’s in New Jersey. If it’s a long commute, then move to Trenton.”

  How could any rational person suggest such a horrible idea? Then the reason came to her. “You’ve never been to Trenton, have you?” He no doubt chose it because it had his name in it. Trent’s Town.

  “No, but when you move there, I’m sure I’ll see plenty of it.”

  “Well, thank you for thinking about me, but—”

  “Why does my phone say Dan Marshal?”

  She rolled her eyes. She’d explained this to him a hundred times. “It’s telling you I’m calling from Dan Marshal’s firm.

  “You’re wasting your time. His clients don’t want candidates with your weak qualifications.”

  His words hurt, even though she knew he didn’t mean to be a jerk. He’s channeling his father. He’s had a lousy day and his horrid father has popped out.

  During the last two months, when things had gone so well, she’d almost forgotten his horrible side. His Mr. Hyde personification was why she’d asked for a long engagement. He still had a ways to go before she’d say ‘I do’ forever.

  “I’m working for Dan as a consultant,” she replied with more calmness than she felt.

  “No. You will not whore for Dan Marshal,” he yelled. “You are taking the job in Trenton.”

  “I am working for Dan, and no whoring is involved.”

  “You know damn well how the women there act!”

  “I know how Sandra Parker behaves, but she is not representative of his better consultants.”

  “You should hear what they say at my club.”

  “Well, I heard today you have a harem, so clearly gossip isn’t reliable.”

  “Is Dan spreading lies about me?”

  The anger in his voice caused her to cringe. He teetered on the edge of becoming a raving lunatic. “No. A client of Jeff’s told him, and he told me.”

  “Jeff who? And what’s the client’s name?”

  She regretted stating Jeff’s first name. No way would she provide any further information. “You need to calm down. I didn’t believe the rumor any more than you should believe the one about Dan’s consultants. Neither is true. I verified this before I accepted the position.”

  Her initial plan had been to suggest a night out to celebrate her new job, but now she wanted to get off the phone and head home—alone. This regression in his behavior exhausted her. She had advised against leaving him cold turkey. Why should she suffer for his independent exuberance?

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “I already told you.”

  “At Dan’s, but where? In a cube or an office.”

  “In an office.”

  “Great, what are you wearing?”

  She rubbed her right temple. “My blue suit.”

  “The prudish one?”

  Carrie sighed in exhaustion. No wonder Mars had discouraged her from talking to Trent. “I don’t know, since until tonight, you’ve been considerate enough not to share your thoughts about my suits.” She put him on speaker so she could rub both temples, trying to stave off a migraine. “Did you have a bad day?”

  “No. I’m fine. My new EA had to be smacked about a bit, but she straightened up soon enough.”

  “Trent! You cannot hit your employees. It doesn’t matter how bad your day gets, you can’t—”

  “Calm down. I’m kidding.”

  “Thank God!” While normally Trent would never strike anyone, when he channeled his father, all bets were off.

  “I think we both need phone sex.”

  She so disagreed. “No, I need to head home.” She grimaced, expecting him to insist she stay with him in the penthouse, but he didn’t.

  “It won’t take long. Remove your underwear.”

  She grabbed the phone handle, killing the speaker. Never again would she leave her door open. God how embarrassing!

  “Trent, stop, we’re not having phone sex.”

  “Lie down on the top of your desk and spread your legs to each side.”

  “I don’t have time.”

  “I’m pulling your sweet plump ass to the very edge of the desk, causing your skirt to rise, exposing your hairless pussy.”

  “Not happening!” Even if she had been in the mood for phone sex, she wouldn’t have gotten off on his current play. She didn’t have a ‘plump’ ass and no way in hell would she allow her tender parts ripped free of her pubic hairs. Why would he think she’d resonate with his fantasy?

  As she rolled her eyes, she spotted Dan leaning against her office door. She placed Trent on hold. With any luck he’d continue his fantasy on his own, since it had nothing to do with her.

  Her face burned with embarrassment. She had no idea what Dan had heard, but she knew what he might have heard, which mortified her.

  “Sorry, but I promise you I didn’t begin the call until seven.”

  Dan frowned. “Which makes your first day twelve hours long?”

  “I don’t mind. I’m used to long hours.” Dan glanced at the phone, no doubt thinking she meant she often had long hours of phone sex. “He just started this.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “He turns on a porn movie and acts out the part.”

  Dan stared at his shoes in great interest.

  “Sorry, you don’t want to know about Trent’s sexual activities.”

  “Not unless he becomes celibate. That would interest me.”

  Carrie suspected her face glowed neon red. “Is there anything I can do for you?” She cringed, fearing he might misinterpret her question, given she’d been having one-way phone sex.

  Please be a gentleman, please!

  “I stopped by to see how your day went and ask if you needed a ride to Penn Station. It�
��s rather a long haul from here.”

  After a glance at the blinking light on the phone, she focused on Dan. “You know, I would like a ride. If I’m lucky, he won’t even notice I’m gone. He turns the volume up so loud I can hear…” She covered her mouth with her hand. Dan did not need to know any further details.

  She grabbed her purse and hurried from her office, turning off the light so the blinking phone remained the only illumination. Trent would no doubt give her hell for abandoning him, but he’d used up all her patience for the night.

  Dan placed his hand on the small of her back, and her Trent-induced stress disappeared.

  “So, tell me about your day.”

  Happy she had someone to share her successes with, she gave him the highlights.

  When they reached Penn Station, she had yet to tell him about Destiny’s fabulous job. He glanced at his watch. “When is your train?”

  “One just left, so an hour from now.”

  “How about I buy you dinner and drive you home?”

  She hesitated.

  “Unless you’d rather continue this conversation by cell phone.”

  “We can’t because Trent had his driver steal my personal cell phone and then one of them, Trent, I suspect, threw it in the Hudson River.” Thinking about him seemed to suck out the remainder of her energy. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

  Dan felt her forehead. “When did you last eat?”

  “This morning, around four.”

  “Jenson, take us to Giuseppe’s.”

  She hoped the place served food, because his question had woken her stomach and its rumblings declared it unhappy.

  He then made a phone call. “Giuseppe, Dan. I’ve got a starving employee on my hands. We are about fifteen minutes away. Can you have my favorite appetizer ready when we get there? Thanks, I appreciate it… Yes, but irrelevant… Stop interrogating me and get to cooking.” He hung up and smiled at her. “Now, you were saying…?”

  Unable to remember, she shook her head and shrugged.

  “Jeff sent you to Greg and told you to wait until he processed the client specs, which I know is a waste of Greg’s time, but until today, only he could do them.”