Too Close to Touch (18 page)

Kylie sat up. “Oh, let’s see. We had lots of fun. First, we painted with the watercolors. Then we made ice cream out of Play-Doh. Then

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we played hide-and-seek. Then we played that memory board game —

she kicked my ass, by the way.” Erin chuckled and nodded knowingly.

“Then came the male strippers.”

“And a female one for Aunt Kylie?”

“Three, as a matter of fact. I taught Becky how to put dollar bills in their g-strings in the proper manner.”

“I’m sure that’s a skill she’ll Þ nd useful.”

“You know it.”

“And she went to bed okay?”

“We read
Goodnight, Moon
four times, but that’s all. She was tucked in and snoozing by eight thirty.”

“Excellent. Thanks a bunch.”

“How was the party? Did you actually Þ nd any Tupperware that you don’t already have?” Erin’s extensive collection of Tupperware was a source of humor for the entire family.

“Surprisingly, yes. A spatula. So there.” Erin faked a pout before heading back into the kitchen. “I know it’s late, but can you hang a little longer? Have a Coke with me or something? It’s caffeine-free. I feel like I didn’t get to visit with you much at the Memorial Day thing.”

It was late and Kylie was tired, but she felt the same way. She and Erin hadn’t always been close; with only three years between them, they used to shriek at one another when they were teenagers—pull hair, scratch, and bite. But as they grew up, and especially after Erin had had children, they’d become the best of friends and loved to spend time together. Erin was the Þ rst family member to whom Kylie had come out.

“Sure,” Kylie said. “I can stay for a little while longer.”

Erin poured the soda into two glasses with ice and brought one to Kylie in the living room. Dropping back into the recliner, she folded her long legs beneath her and sighed. “So, what’s new, baby sis?”

“Not a lot, really. I’ve got to get my butt moving on my ß owers.

I’m a little behind in my planting. The front of my house looks bare.

Otherwise, just working.”

“Yeah, how’s that going? The new boss must be working out. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet her at Mom and Dad’s.”

“Gretchen. She’s terriÞ c.”

“Mom said she was very nice.”

“She’s amazing.” Kylie felt pleased that her mother had mentioned

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Gretchen. “She’s whipping the salespeople into shape and really cleaning things up around the ofÞ ce. Upper management loves her.”

“How ’bout you? Is she easy to work for?”

“Very. We had a little bit of a heated conversation early on, but we got past it. She even took me to dinner last night to thank me for all my hard work, which was so cool. I mean, Jim was great, but he never treated me like Gretchen does. She’s funny and smart and strong and attractive. I like her. I really like her.” Kylie stopped abruptly and sipped her Coke, aware that her eyes were darting around the room instead of meeting Erin’s.

“Ky?” Erin cocked her head. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s going on.” Kylie squirmed. Hiding anything from Erin was next to impossible.

“You
do
like her, don’t you?”

“What? No. No, of course not. Don’t be silly. She’s my boss.”

Kylie sounded much less convincing than she’d hoped, and she knew Erin had busted her. “Damn it.”

“I may not have talked with her, but I did see her. She’s beautiful.”

“And gay.”

“You’re kidding.” Erin blinked in disbelief. “Shit, Kylie.”

“Can you believe my luck? I Þ nally meet somebody that I think could have potential and I can’t date her.”

It was the Þ rst time she’d spoken the words out loud since realizing them after their playful dinner the previous night. She wanted to date Gretchen. It was a simple fact. She admitted it to herself, and despite the futility of the situation, she felt the tiniest bit better. The workday had been great. She and Gretchen had talked about having dinner again.

They’d been happy, smiling, even bordering on ß irty. Gretchen would invariably reel it in and return to being professional long before Kylie ever thought about doing so.

Not surprisingly, there was no mention of chocolate raspberry torte, though Kylie was sure she’d never look at the dessert the same way again. The truth was, they’d both had quite a bit of wine. Kylie liked to fall back on that reasoning when she recalled sitting in Gretchen’s car with her…the night quiet and darkening, the undeniable arousal permeating the air. She was still somewhat shocked that Gretchen hadn’t kissed her, but it was probably for the best. After all, she was

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GEORGIA BEERS

Gretchen’s subordinate. Gretchen was her boss. Their pairing would be frowned upon strongly at Emerson and they both knew it. If only…

Kylie didn’t want to think ahead, think about what could be if the situation was different.

“Does she feel the same way?” Erin asked.

Kylie colored with embarrassment. “I don’t know. We have fun.

She’s kind of hard to read and she isn’t exactly…warm and fuzzy. At least not at work.”

“So…this is just a physical thing for you, then?”

“No. No, I don’t think so. I mean, she’s warmer and fuzzier with me than with anybody else. Other people think she’s cold. I don’t see her like that.”

“What does Mick have to say about all this?”

Kylie pursed her lips. “I can’t talk to her about Gretchen. Mick hates her.”

“Why?”

“Long story.”

“So, Mick thinks she’s cold, too.”

No, Mick thinks she’s a lying, conniving bitch.
She almost said it aloud, but caught herself. “Yeah.”

“Well, baby sis, it seems to me that you don’t have a lot of options here. A, you don’t even know that Gretchen is interested in you that way, and B, she’s your boss. Unless you plan on looking for a new job—which I sincerely hope you don’t because you’ve got a lot of time into Emerson—you need to just keep it in your pants, so to speak, and go on with your life. Right?”

Kylie sighed. “Yeah.” She knew Erin was right, had expected Erin to say exactly what she’d said. She just didn’t want to hear it and she certainly didn’t want to accept it.

“Come on, Kylie.” Erin sat forward, her voice and eyes gentle.

“You know yourself as well as I do and you tend to jump in with both feet. Without testing the water Þ rst. You fall hard and fast and you always have. You need to put a stop to this train of thought now, before you end up getting yourself hurt. Okay?”

Kylie nodded, feeling disheartened. “Okay.”

v

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TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

The phone call from Sarah Stevenson was exactly the kind of thing Gretchen needed to get her mind back on work. She was not the kind of person who normally let
anything
, let alone a sexual fantasy, sidetrack her, but one look at Kylie in that royal blue dress that fell just above her knees and she’d been on a fast train to Smutville. She’d spent all day Wednesday and much of Thursday morning recalling her dinner with Kylie, how much she’d enjoyed their time together, and remembering how much she’d wanted to kiss her that night. She wasn’t used to such distraction and it was starting to irritate her.

Hanging up from her conversation with Sarah, she buzzed Kylie at her desk. “Call every one of our local sales reps and see if the guys in Buffalo and Syracuse can be here late this afternoon. If they can’t, it’s okay. I know it’s last minute and they may be busy, but Sarah just closed her deal. We’re having a celebration.”

Out the ofÞ ce window, she could see Kylie’s head snap around.

In seconds, she was in the doorway, an enormous grin plastered across her face. “She did it?”

“She did it.”

“God, Gretchen, that’s…that’s
huge
.”

“It is. She’s on her way here. Would you book her a room at the Marriott? She’ll need to stay over so we can go through her paperwork thoroughly before the weekend.” Gretchen sat back in her leather chair, hands clasped behind her head, enjoying the view in the doorway. “I’m trying to Þ gure out the best way to tell Wheeler.”

Kylie folded her arms and leaned against the door frame, basking in the scrutiny. “Rumor has it she’s actually in her ofÞ ce this morning.

I’d say in person is best.”

“I think you’re right.” Gretchen sprang up and crossed the ofÞ ce.

As Kylie moved to let her by, their bodies brushed.

“Gretchen.” Kylie stopped her with a hand on her arm.

Gretchen tried not to notice the heat burning through her sleeve, but her skin seemed unreasonably sensitive.

“Congratulations. You’re really making a difference around here.” Kylie’s voice was soft and genuine, but her gaze was steady and penetrating.

Gretchen swallowed as she felt consumed by blue. Murmuring vague thanks, she escaped to the elevator and rode up to the sixth ß oor, lost in her own thoughts, her hand absently rubbing her arm where

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GEORGIA BEERS

Kylie had grasped her. As the elevator door dinged its arrival at her destination, she shook herself out of her reverie and forced her focus to the ofÞ ce at the end of the hall.

Margo Wheeler was the vice president of sales for all of Emerson, nationwide. She was a smart, tough woman who hadn’t made it this high up without a lot of effort and a lot of sacriÞ ce. Her third marriage was dissolving rapidly. She had no children, much to her sometimes obvious dismay, and at Þ fty-Þ ve, never would. She did, however, have three West Highland White Terriers that she loved with all her heart.

The pictures of them sprinkled throughout her ofÞ ce did wonders to soften the hard-edged exterior she showed to strangers.

Gretchen had actually known Margo for nearly ten years on a surface level. Their paths had crossed at many a corporate function; Margo had attempted to recruit her to Emerson on more than one occasion. They seemed to gravitate to one another during those gatherings of mostly men, sensing a kindred spirit across the room. They usually ended up in a corner with their scotches, pointing out which men were snakes and which were on their way to becoming snakes.

Margo had paved the way for women like Gretchen, dealing every day with the same double standard men always placed on women in the business world. If you were a man who was tough, no-nonsense, and didn’t take anybody’s shit, you were a hero, a man to be admired. If you were a woman with those same qualities, you were quite simply a bitch and in need of a good fuck by the right guy. It seemed to Gretchen that things had been that way since the dawn of time and she often wondered if they would ever change. Forward progress could be painfully slow.

She stopped at the secretary’s desk outside Margo’s ofÞ ce. A rotund, thirtyish woman with platinum blond hair and a perpetual smile sat typing at her computer.

“Hi, Connie. Did I happen to catch her in?”

“Hello there, Ms. Kaiser. As a matter of fact, you did. Can you believe it?”

Gretchen chuckled. “No.”

Connie picked up her handset and pressed a button. “Ms. Wheeler?

Ms. Kaiser is here to see you.” Looking up at Gretchen, she said, “You can go right in.”

Margo Wheeler was a plain-looking woman, not attractive and not unattractive. She was an inch or two taller than Gretchen, but her

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TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

heels always made her seem that much larger, as did her air of authority.

Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back off her face and in need of a coloring, the gray peeking through proudly. Gretchen was sure if she checked Margo’s schedule, there was a hair appointment within the next week; Margo didn’t like to appear a day older than she actually was. She always wore a tastefully expensive suit. Today’s consisted of a black skirt and red and black checked jacket.

Her ofÞ ce made Gretchen’s look like a janitorial closet. A sprawling room with a peaceful view of the wooded area behind the building, it was complete with a leather couch, matching chair, and wet bar. The smell of freshly perking coffee pervaded.

Margo stood immediately and crossed the ß oor with her hand outstretched. “Gretchen. Good to see you. Come in. Sit down.” Her handshake was Þ rm, her grip warm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Gretchen allowed herself to sink contentedly into the leather couch. “Well, I have some good news and thought telling you face-to-face would be more fun than a phone call.”

“I’m always up for good news. Coffee?”

“No, thanks. Fifteen cups is my limit and I’ve already reached that this morning.”

Margo laughed, a loud shock of a sound that made Gretchen jump every time. “Tell me.”

“Sarah Stevenson closed her deal in Albany.” Gretchen let it sink in, watching Margo’s face as she processed the information.

“Good Lord.”

“I know.”

“We’re sure?”

“She’s on her way here as we speak, bringing me the paperwork.”

“I knew that girl had potential,” Margo said softly. “You’re right.

This is very, very good news.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Gretchen said. “I know we’re not even in the same league as the bigger ofÞ ces. Houston is huge, and I don’t know that we’ll ever catch up to L.A. But I think this is a good start to getting the East Coast up to where it should be.” It was important to her to let Margo know that she was aware of the shortcomings of her region. She didn’t want to be projecting any hint of a false sense of security to her boss.

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“You’re damn right, it’s a good start.” Margo’s voice was Þ rm.

“Don’t make this smaller than it is. That account is going to bring in a lot of money for this part of the country. And if your other rep comes through…what’s his name? Bergman?” Gretchen nodded. “If Bergman comes through as well…” She let the sentence dangle, watching Gretchen calculate the possibilities. “I knew hiring you was the right move, Gretchen. I knew it. I told Ed that from the start.”