Breene, K F - Growing Pains 01 (13 page)

Sean laughed that deep, throaty
laugh of his. “Knowing what people are saying is a decided advantage, yes. Have
you traveled anywhere else?”

“Oh yes. I took a year off school,
much to my parents’ chagrin, to travel around
Europe
.
Besides that I’ve been to a few other places.”

“Like where?”

Sean had his full attention on her.
He seemed calm and relaxed. For the first time, he seemed completely, utterly
normal. Human. Not a God, or a supermodel, and certainly not a womanizer. He
seemed interested in nothing more than friendly conversation. They could’ve
been two friends, meeting up for lunch and a chat. Two people with no drama, no
sordid work history, and no sexual office tension. Regardless of Krista’s
wishes, she could feel her guard slipping even more, and instead of his sexual
attraction, she admired his exquisite beauty.

His eyes were radiant and
intelligent, currently sparkling a brilliant shade of green. His straight,
perfect nose ended above a full set of defined lips that looked sensual. And
kissable.

She rushed into her answer to get
her brain back on track. “I’ve been to many places in
South America
,
to
Canada
, to
most of the
U.S.
,
including
Alaska
, um,
Mexico
,
ah...let’s see...
Egypt--
”

“
Egypt
?”
Sean interrupted.

“Yes. I went there about four years
ago.”

“I’ve never been. How was it?”

The bartender showed up with their
beers. Krista belatedly realized she should have looked at the menu.

“Now.” The bartender said it in a
way that meant “there ya go” as she put their beers in front of them. She
leaned against the counter casually and asked, “Do ye know what ye want?”

Sean said, “I’ll have the burger,
please. Medium.” The bartender nodded and looked at Krista.

“Oh God, um…” She scanned words
quickly, then just picked the first thing that looked half-way decent. “French
dip.”

The bartender nodded again, put the
menus away and headed off.

Krista’s stomach gave a loud
rumble. With an embarrassed grin, she clutched it. Sean smiled, his eyes
crinkling in the corners.

“It was great,” she went on, “one
of my favorite places because of the art history, but one of my least favorite
places for trying to fit in.”

Sean laughed. “I can imagine. Tell
me, did you get to see the Great Pyramids and go in one?”

“I saw them, but didn’t go in. I
was with a group and we had a guide, so we went in a different pyramid that
didn’t have lights. It smelled like pee.”

“Oh, smelled like the BART station,
you mean?”

“Exactly,” she laughed. “Have you
traveled at all?”

He nodded, his eyes getting
distant. “I have, yes. I’ve hit all the places you have, except
Egypt
,
of course.
Australia
,
China
and
Japan
,
and parts of
Africa
.”

“I’ve always wanted to go on an
African safari.”

“Have you? It’s dangerous.”

“I know. It’s wild and raw, and
therefore, real. I want to see an elephant so bad it hurts. I’ve watched enough
documentaries and nature programs to know how dangerous they are, but I just
can’t help it. They are so majestic.”

Krista paused as Sean took a sip of
his Guinness. Into the silence she said, “And I want to marry an Australian.”

Sean choked into his beer and put
the glass down in a hurry. Krista gave his large back a slap, clearly helping.
The way he jerked forward against the bar, choking a little harder, he thought
she clearly wasn’t.

“You alright?” she asked in
laughter.

He chuckled, “Just so happens I’m
Australian.”

“Uh huh. I am younger than you,
yes, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Honest,” he raised his hand as if
to say ‘Scout’s honor.’ “My parents are from
Australia
.
I am first generation American.”

“You just said it—you’re American.
Doesn’t count. You don’t have the accent.”

“Oh. In order to count I need the
accent?”

“Exactly.”

“Pity.” There were layers to that
word, and Krista didn’t want to know any of them.

Thankfully, the food showed up
right before it got awkward. On Krista’s plate sat a large sandwich stuffed
with thick slices of red meat. Beside it was a small cup of au jus. The rest of
the plate was filled with fries.

“Wow,” she said, not knowing where
to start. “This is manly.”

Sean looked over at her, just about
to bite into his giant burger. “What? The food?”

“Yeah. Meat. Bread. Fries. Enough
food for two meals. Manly. Let’s hope it tastes womanly.”

“You don’t think men know what good
food tastes like?”

Krista smirked, “Let’s see.”

Sean took a big bite. Krista picked
up her large sandwich, thankfully cut in half by the kitchen, and took a
Krista-sized bite. She got mostly bread.

“It won’t taste womanly if you eat
like a chick,” Sean said with a smirk.

“I am trying to maintain some
decorum.”

“How’s this for decorum—I was in
Ireland
shortly after they stopped smoking in the bars. It was a wonderful thing for
the most part. Before that, you’d get home from the pub and smell like an
ashtray. You had to wash your clothes every day, which isn’t easy when
traveling. After the ban went into effect, though, the old guys would sit and
drink their Guinness, as usual, but without the smell of cigarettes in the air,
they filled the bar with their farts instead. It wasn’t pretty.”

Krista put her sandwich down,
choking. “Why did you just tell me that?”

Sean started laughing, “So you’d
know that a pub is no place for decorum. Take a bite. A big one. No one’s
looking.”

“This is a work lunch.”

“And?”

“And…fine. You want to sit next to
a sloppy mess? So be it!” Just to make a mockery of the scene, Krista dipped
her sandwich in the au jus and took a mouthful.

Sean watched for a minute, then
took a mouthful as well. When he was chewing, he said, “Goorrd?”

“Huuumm?”

They both started laughing, taking
a sip of their beer so as not to choke. When they’d both finished, Sean said,
“Well?”

“Good. Really good. Quality bread
and quality meat. This place is a keeper.”

Sean nodded, “Yeah, food here is
consistently good. The bar is consistently full, and the waitresses are
consistently unimpressed.”

Krista laughed as she scarfed down
most of her sandwich—she’d been starving. There wasn’t much conversation as
they finished up and the plates were taken away. She was about halfway through
her Guinness, Sean on to his second.

“So… Fatty?” Sean asked as he
looked at his beer. He was trying to hide a smile.

“I didn’t think that comment was
out loud.”

“I snooped, too. Blaming me for
turning in a report early, huh? Excuse me for saying, but your department
is…backwards.”

“You didn’t already know that?”

“I did. In theory. I took Ray to
meet Mr. Montgomery. It was…funny. Ray is probably the most polite guy I know.
He doesn’t like saying negative things. He was hard pressed to say anything at
all concerning James. He was flabbergasted.”

“I’ll bet. Did he meet the others?”

“Briefly. I didn’t want to scare
him too badly.”

“Well, usually I call him Mr.
Montgomery, but when he is being an ass, or stubborn or whatever, I call him
Fatty. It’s what the girl who trained me always called him.”

“Ah.” He laughed and bowed his
head. After a moment, his grin faded. “Right. Business.” Suddenly everything
changed. His focus was razor-sharp, his mannerisms were fluid but honed, and
his eyes probed her with intensity.

“You are disgruntled and you don’t
trust me. First, let’s go over why you are disgruntled.”

“Uh …” Krista had to downshift. She
leaned forward on the bar, collected her thoughts, and then paused. Yeah, she
was disgruntled, but she didn’t really want to air her dirty laundry in a
public forum.

Sean waited patiently. He wanted
her to take the first step.

“It’s growing into kind of a long
list,” she stalled.

He nodded once. No surprise in his
countenance. Apparently he wasn’t daunted. “Just start at the beginning, then.”

Well, here goes…

“Okay, well, firstly the
presentation was a shambles.”

“How so?”

“How so? You rudely didn’t
introduce me. Then you and your lackey sat back and admired the view like a
couple’a sleazeballs. You didn’t even hide the fact that you were looking at
all the available skin rather than focusing on, oh I don’t know, the
presentation I was doing? Then you made me answer a question you knew very well
you should have been answering. Finally, adding insult to injury, or at least
insult to grievance, you ushered me out halfway through the meeting. I looked
like a useless stat rat to the clients, never mind the rest of the team that already
hated me. You would have never done that to my boss!”

She marveled at how quickly she’d
gotten riled up. Since she was on a roll, she was about to go on when Sean held
up his hand to stop her.

“I didn’t realize your list was so
well organized,” Sean said pensively. “Why didn’t you throw this at me
yesterday?”

“I was really, really hung over
yesterday.”

“Did you get in and decide to talk
to me, or was it something you’d planned?”

“I’d decided I had to on Friday—not
true. My friends decided I had to on Friday, and after I couldn’t find a reason
to disagree, I had to jump on board. It was a long weekend.”

“Well, hopefully after today you’ll
know that you shouldn’t be worried or nervous to speak with me. We are a team
now. If you have any problems, any at all, I want you to feel comfortable
coming to me. Or at the very least, Ray.”

“Hopefully after today you’ll know
that there is a certain way, a professional way, that I expect to be treated,
and I will not tolerate anything else.”

“Touché. Okay. Let me hit your
first points before we move on.”

“Thinking I’ll forget the rest of
my grievances?” Krista smiled.

“Yesterday I would have said yes.
Now…I’ll make sure you’re hung over when I try to get one over on you.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, first, you’re right on all
counts, and if you weren’t...ah, irritated by these issues, it would prove to
me that you didn’t care all that much about your work. Your boss wouldn’t have
minded my not introducing him, or being asked to leave early. Actually, he
would have thanked me for the latter.

“I would apologize for playing you
false, but I won’t, because I wouldn’t really mean it. I didn’t introduce you
because I wanted to show you as your own sector. Your department is always set
aside from the rest of the company, just like most of the financial sector and
occasionally IT. The difference is finance and IT don’t interact with clients.
They do their own thing, and we do our own thing. The presidents and VP’s bring
it all together. Your department, though, is greatly needed, but also greatly
feared ...” He paused to think how to go on.

“Feared?”

Sean nodded, “Greatly feared
because the presentations are dry and usually miss the mark. The presenters
themselves are terrible at communicating with anything but robots. It just
doesn’t work for our clients. Which are human, by the way.”

She ignored that last dig. On the
humor circuit, he could do better.

Krista’s Guinness showed up, along
with another for Sean. She looked at him with raised eyebrows. He caught the
look. “I can drink a lot of Guinness. My grandparents are Irish bar owners.
I’ve spent a lot of time in the pub shooting the shit and drinking Guinness.
Anyway--”

“Wait...” she held up a hand to
stop the proceedings. “You are American. Your parents are Australian. But your
grandparents are Irish?”

“Uh...yeah, so my dad was first
generation Australian. His parents were born in
Ireland
,
but met while they were each traveling in
Australia
,
stayed until my dad was 18, then went back to
Ireland
.
My dad stayed and met my mom. She is 100% Australian. My dad got a job offer in
the
U.S.
, my
mom followed. I came later. We are still close to both sets of grandparents.”

“Ah. Colorful ethnic tree.”

“Anyway, where was I...ah yes, your
unfortunate department. If it had been anyone else, I would have treated your
presentation like I did all the others--which is to say, keep it flowing and
keep the clients interested. They were men, though, and you a young,
attractive, well-groomed woman. Interest wasn’t a problem.”

Krista let what he said float over
her awareness. It wasn’t why they were here. She was in deep enough; she didn’t
need the sweet talking.

She rebutted with, “Okay, why did
you play up the sex part? That was a form of sexual harassment as well as
disrespectful, discourteous to a fellow associate and completely harmful to my
reputation as a statistician. And, in case you were wondering, I don’t need any
negative help with my reputation as a statistician.”

Sean had that devilishly handsome
grin on his face. “Yes, I realize you don’t need any help with your reputation.
Anyone who has worked with your department, or got caught at a Christmas party
talking to one of them, knows to steer clear. But, yes, all those things it
was, yes. Including a dick move about your reputation. I told you in the beginning,
I will use a person for all they’ve got. Those men, save one, weren’t smart
enough to follow what you were saying. By being belligerent in our appreciation
of your looks, the two idiots could just watch you and feel like one of the
boys. That left the smartest of the group to follow along. And he had to
sidestep all the land mines you were throwing at him--smiles, sultry voice,
feminine movements--to keep focused. ”

Okay, that time it was a little
harder to let the appreciative comments float over her head. She went a furious
shade of red.

Sean tried to stifle a laugh.
“Please believe that if those guys were g*y men or women, I would’ve been
giving that presentation right beside you while finding ways to take off my
jacket. It isn’t pretty, but neither are sales.”

Her imagination flared at the
mention of him taking off his jacket. She groped for the emergency brake as she
said, “Fine, but then the smart one showed he could follow along and asked a
poignant question.”

Sean’s eyes clouded over as he
regarded her, his face losing all trace of humor. “Yes, I didn’t expect that.”
She could tell he didn’t like when things happened he wasn’t anticipating.
“Your information was solid, your skills as a presenter top notch, and your
look distracting--I didn’t think he would pay such close attention. Or at
least, I didn’t think he would ask a question until after you’d walked off the
platform. Then that question. I’ll be honest, Krista, it blindsided me. It
highlighted exactly what I was trying to hide.”

“Then why did you get me to answer
it instead of saving the day?”

“Are you questioning my hero
antics?” He laughed, humor restored. “I set you up as an independent sector,
remember? He asked you. It was a research question. If I jumped in, it would
have discredited you. They possibly would’ve looked harder at your material.
Maybe punched holes in your presentation. Talk about reputation going down the
drain, huh?”

Krista scoffed and he smiled at
her, his eyes glittering green.

“But how did you know I wouldn’t
ruin everything? I mean, my boss or anyone in my department would’ve agreed
with what that guy said, then given a factual rundown on how the information
was correct, if not necessarily relevant.”

Sean rolled his eyes, “If you were
anyone else in your department, you would not have been left on your own. I
already went over that with you. No one outside your department trusts your
department--in front of clients, I mean. Information is always solid, of
course.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He sighed. “Well, I was hoping for
the best. I was trying to figure out what to say when you f-ed up--excuse my
candor. Luckily for me, you had the presence of mind to lie. Thank you for
that, by the way. It’s what solidified you on my team. Otherwise I was going to
hire in.”

“What, my ability to lie?”

Sean leaned back and laughed. He
half-turned to her and she got the impression he wanted to ruffle her hair like
a twelve-year-old boy.

“Your ability to go with the flow,”
he explained.

Here she was, dwelling on that dang
question all weekend, and now she learned it was potentially the doorway to a
better career path. Potentially. The verdict was still out if she could work
with Sean.

She went on, pressing the point,
wanting to know why he wanted her on his team. Looks, or something else? This
was his time to prove it. “Okay, you said if I was anyone but me you would’ve
acted differently. How’d you know my work? That was my first real
presentation.”

“By your presence of mind in your
slides and how you went over it before the meeting. Also from the report of
yours I looked at a few months ago when you knocked me over like a linebacker.”

“Okay, I think you’re remembering
that incorrectly. You knocked me over, remember? Plus you were the reason for a
broken lucky mug. And for a near black eye …”

“I’m not apologizing for that lucky
mug—that thing was the pits. Very ugly.”

“What? How dare you insult its
memory!”

Sean laughed again, resting his
forearms on the bar. “And I already apologized for the near black eye. And you
barreled into me. It wasn’t my fault you couldn’t stand on your own two
stilettos.”

“Well, fine. History of you
ambushing me aside, are you saying you made a split-second judgment right
before show time? You think you’re that good a judge of talent?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well then, I feel inclined to tell
you, I had help with those slides.”

Sean’s brows furrowed. “I thought
you said--”

“I lied.”

“I see. Expert liar.” He didn’t
sound impressed.

“Expert flow go’er. My roommate
helped me on the color scheme and did a few layout fixes. I needed it to look
better, you know, but I’m a novice with art.” Sean still looked miffed. “But,
he’s not company related, so it counts as me, right? Not really a lie.”

“What about the actual wording of
the presentation? And the material?”

“Oh, all me. My roommate is a
genius art guy. Numbers are my territory. I help him balance his checkbook, he
helps me with color and placement. Easy for him, easy for me.”

“He’s an expert art guy and you’re
an expert math girl?”

Krista shrugged.

“When can I meet your roommate?”
Sean could pivot on a dime.

She must have blinked a hundred
times in two seconds before she stuttered, “Uh… he has a job.”

“When can I meet your roommate?”

“Let’s put that on the table for
further discussion.”

Sean looked at her with that
bemused expression again before conceding. “Fair enough. Next grievance.”

“Ushering me out of the room.”

“That wasn’t planned in the
beginning. I‘d hoped to keep you close as a top quality distraction throughout.
But with that answer ... you showed you were a step above everyone else.
Excepting me, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Krista said
sarcastically.

He continued with a smile. “I
didn’t want them wondering why someone smart, and probably high-powered despite
her age, was hanging around in the back of the room with...the others. After
you left I told them you had to get to another meeting and you were on borrowed
time. I did make you look good in the end. Give me a little credit at least.”

“Hmmph.”

“Next?”

She’d finished her second Guinness.
Based on the fact that the food was still settling but the Guinness was flowing
like water, Krista was already starting to feel a little tipsy. If she didn’t
slow down so the protein could block alcohol absorption, she would seek out
Sean’s bedroom and her pants would fall off of their own free will.

“Um, okay,” she forged on, face red
again, “Why didn’t you tell the others my role in Friday’s meeting? I mean, you
had Ray give a piss-poor rendition of my information when I was sitting two
seats from the guy.”

“Piss-poor?” Sean was looking at
her with a smirk.

“Don’t tell him that, but yeah.
There were holes everywhere.”

“What, did you memorize it?”

Krista stopped, her glass halfway
to her mouth, in order to give Sean a look that said he was smarter than that.
When he still seemed dense, she said, “I researched it, wrote it, then
formatted it…twice. I know the information in it. Don’t insult me.”

Sean laughed and gave her a pat on
the back.

“I just don’t understand why you
didn’t tell everyone I was the one who researched the info,” she pushed.

“I did.”

“I only use my hair color when
there is an actual advantage to looking stupid. I suggest you revise your
answer.”

Sean laughed again, this time
putting a large hand on her shoulder as he did so. His hand was warm and
comfortable. She suddenly wanted it between her legs.

She sputtered into her glass and
put the Guinness down immediately. Things were going A.W.O.L.! She had to
calm-the-hell-down! Alcohol was making her decision-making process take a
complete back seat to her need to get laid. It. Was. Not. Good!