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Authors: Zoe M. McCarthy

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Calculated Risk (20 page)

BOOK: Calculated Risk
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She climbed, groaning, onto a bar stool and chomped a bite from her sandwich. Could she have missed an incoming text from Nick responding to hers about the delivery of her suitcase? She checked. No.

Hadn't she learned anything? Why had she given him the option to bring it by tonight or to work tomorrow without typing RSVP at the end of her text? Not knowing what to expect kept her wondering and wishing. So unproductive. Not that she intended to produce anything tonight, beyond taking a shower and going to bed.

Her caller ID showed a missed call from Angela. She selected Call Back.

Angela answered after the first ring. “Hey, Cisney! We're back. Tom just dropped me off.”

“Good trip?”

“I made it down a black diamond. Mostly on my backside, but my challenge belt has another notch. How about you?”

“I'm OK, but Daddy had a heart attack yesterday morning.”

Angela sucked in a breath. “Oh, Cis, I'm so sorry.”

She filled Angela in on the diagnosis, the prognosis, and the prescribed treatment.

“If you can't make the fitting tomorrow, I understand,” Angela said.

“I wouldn't miss it.”

“Well, Jason's chumminess with CS today showed I was wrong about Jason wanting you back. So, how's Nick?”

“He saw his old flame twice this weekend. I think that says volumes, don't you?” Why, on her own, without Daddy interfering, did she finally find a forever man, and he had decided to pursue the woman who'd broken his heart? Was she supposed to learn something from that?

“How rude of him.”

“He invited me to spend Thanksgiving with his family, not to fall in love with me.”

“You must have it bad for him. You're defending him.”

She'd shot up prayers every time she thought about Nick, asking God to remove her feelings for him, but so far they remained like leeches having a feast on her heart. “So, was there a reason other than chitchat for your call earlier?”

“Yes. Remember how much you owe me for filling in for you on your last presentation when you had the flu?”

Oh, no. What did Angela want to spring on her on the longest day of her life? “Let me warn you. I'm exhausted and not in the mood for blind dates, or fishing your engagement ring out of the drain again.”

“What I'm asking is a breeze compared to those.”

“OK. Let's hear it.” She licked peanut butter from her finger.

“Tom won't dance the tango for our bride-and-groom dance unless the bridesmaids and groomsmen tango with us. Would you please, please come to tango lessons Wednesday night?”

“You're kidding, right?”

“I thought you enjoyed waltzing the other night. Pretty please.”

“Who have you paired me up with?”

“Because of your height, we put you with Tom's younger brother, Hunter.”

“That kid? Will I still walk like an upright primate when he gets done with my toes?”

“You're such a sport. Thank you, thank you.”

The bleep of a text sounded. “Gotta go, Angela.”

Cisney read the text from Nick.
Entering Richmond. Want your suitcase?

She appraised the appearance of her apartment, and then keyed:
Sure.

 

****

 

Nick lugged Cisney's suitcase up to the second floor and rang her doorbell. The way she wore her feelings on her face, even when she tried to hide them, he'd soon know how her dad fared.

She drew her door open. For a split second, she looked as tired as he felt, but when her eyes took him in, fatigue fell from her face like a no longer needed mask. “Hello. Come in. You can leave my suitcase inside the door.”

Her cheerful welcome surged new energy into his brain cells and muscles. He placed her suitcase against the wall, shoved his hands into his back pockets, and scanned her apartment. A smattering of self-adhesive notes adorned her refrigerator door, a stack of sheet music rested on her piano, and another stack of magazines sat on her black coffee table, but otherwise her home surroundings were nothing like her messy office desk. Nice artwork on the walls.

“How's your dad?”

“His color is really good compared to yesterday. He's made it through the most critical hours.”

“I'll let my family know the good news. They're all praying.”

“Thanks. It was such a pleasure to get to know your family.”

“Believe me; they felt the same about you.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “Well, I'll be heading home.”

Mom would be disappointed he hadn't prepared a speech about Dana's engagement and her role in his job interviews. But on the drive up, he'd decided it was only fair to hold off announcing his new job to co-workers until he'd talked to his boss. Tomorrow was soon enough to fill Cisney in on all the job developments, his decisions, and which way his love life leaned.

“Have you eaten?” she asked.

“No, but I'll grab something on the way home.”

She swept her hand toward the kitchen. “Please, join me for a bite.”

“That's OK. I don't want to put you out.”

“You won't. In fact, you don't want to miss what I'm having for dinner.”

What kind of home-cooked meal did Cisney make for herself? His curiosity got the best of him, along with his sudden craving to enjoy time with her. “All right. If you don't have to cook extra for me. Thanks.”

“I have to cook a little.”

“OK. I'm intrigued. What dish won't I want to miss?”

“Peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat bread defrosted in the toaster.”

He laughed. “I don't know if I've ever eaten whole wheat bread on purpose.”

“My brand is the best.” She led him to the kitchen. “Sit at the bar while I slave over the hot toaster.” She put two slices of frozen bread in the machine and checked the use-by-date on the milk carton. “Milk or water?”

“Milk.” Nick regarded the peanut butter and jelly jars on the counter. They weren't brands he recognized.

“One natural peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat coming up.” Flourishing the plate, she set it before him. With equal flare, she snatched a napkin from the pineapple napkin holder, handed it to him, and joined him at the bar with their glasses of milk.

He took a bite. “Not bad.”

“See, natural is good.”

“I wasn't raving how good it is. It's just not bad.”

“It grows on you.” She took a bite of her partially eaten sandwich. “So, did you stop for a milkshake at the halfway point on the way home?”

“Nope.”

“I understand. It wouldn't have been the same by yourself.”

“True.”

Her smile said she liked his answer. Someday, he'd confess her company was the exotic flavor that spiced up a vanilla shake.

She sipped her milk. “Tomorrow, I need your numbers for our presentation—”

He put his finger to her lips. “I don't talk business on my days off, and until midnight I'm still on holiday.”

She backed her head away from him. “And yet, you spent two mornings while at your parents' house, taking care of business.”

She was quick. Now he'd ended up exactly where he didn't want to go in the conversation. He took a bite of his sandwich. “That was different.”

She swiveled her chair to face him. “How?”

He grabbed hold of the back of her chair and turned her toward the bar. “Eat.”

Her frown brought wrinkles to her forehead. She picked up her sandwich and her pearl ring caught the kitchen light.

“You're still wearing your ring on your left hand.”

She swallowed. “Don't you change the subject, Nick LeCrone.”

Time to get out of the hot water. He scooted his barstool back, stood, and grabbed his sandwich. “Thank you, for your hospitality.”

Her eyes widened. “You're leaving?”

He took her chin in his free hand, dragged his gaze from her lips, and focused on her eyes. “Yes, I am.” He returned his gaze to her mouth. Oh, how he'd like to kiss those sweet lips. “I'll see myself out.”

 

****

 

Cisney gaped, her gaze following Nick until the door clicked shut. What was that all about? She hadn't had a chance to ask him about the swans.

He was withholding something big. Were he and Dana engaged? But if he thought of Cisney as a friend, why did her rock-solid woman's intuition tell her that Nick was a breath away from kissing her before he left? If he was two-timing Dana, forgiving him would be a long time coming.

 

 

 

 

14

 

Nick entered Joe's office and settled into a chair facing his boss.

“What's up, Nick?”

“I'm taking a job in Charlotte in two weeks.”

Joe stared at him, his eyes round and magnified by his glasses.

The passing seconds said a lot. Joe was clueless that nobody related to him. On several occasions, Nick had told Joe flat out he didn't have time to tag along to Joe's meetings to field the big guns' questions. But Nick's displeasure had never sunk into Joe's thought process that Nick was tired of carrying the chief actuary's job.

The guy broke out in a sweat and ran his hand over his face. “Uh, have you told anyone else yet?”

“No.”

A knock sounded on the door, and Phil stuck his head in. “Nick, I've got a guy from the Bureau who wants to talk to you. Seems he doesn't think I'm knowledgeable enough to answer his questions.”

A call Joe should handle. Nick cleared his throat. “I've got a meeting with Cisney Baldwin in fifteen minutes, but I'll call him after that.”

Joe broke in. “Get me his number, Phil, and I'll, uh, call him after we're, uh, done figuring things out here.” He put a finger to his lips as if he were in deep thought. “And I, uh, think…I think you, Phil, can, um, meet with Cisney. Never too late to learn new things. We'll probably need some extra time in here. Why don't you, ah, get up to speed on her project. Right?”

Phil, still planted halfway in the door, frowned. His wheels were probably spinning to figure out what was going on. No easy task when he had to work his way through the way Joe put things.

Joe shooed his hand toward Phil. “Nick and I have serious items to, uh, talk about.”

Phil shrugged, backed out, and closed the door.

Joe labored through weak reasons why Nick should stay. When Nick hadn't rescinded his resignation, Joe pressed his lips together, looked away, and tapped his chin. “Well, ah, this puts a chink in the mortar. Of course, ah, I need to talk to…to Jeff, before you say anything to anyone.”

What good would it do for Joe to talk to the CEO? If Nick hadn't been worth promoting or paying appropriately before now, why should he be worth more because he said he was leaving? That would confirm they'd been using him. Jeff hadn't taken his chance to do the right thing since it was obvious Joe couldn't handle the job. It was time to move on.

“No fire, right, in holding off a day, right? Could be there's a misunderstanding. Can you do that for me, Nick?”Another of Joe's strange way of putting things. But the guy looked miserable.

“OK. I'll wait until tomorrow to tell my team.” He'd have to wait until then to come clean with Cisney, too. Not the best scenario. He glanced at Joe's wall clock. He cringed to think how she'd react in two minutes when, instead of him, Phil walked into her office.

Nick left Joe speed-dialing Jeff. He headed for the elevators to save Phil and reassure Cisney that Julie was working on her numbers.

“Nick!”

He pushed the elevator button and turned toward the voice coming from one end of the corridor.

Angela from Marketing waved her arms as if she were at the top of stadium bleachers trying to get a pitcher's attention. “I sent you an email! Read it! It's a surprise!”

He held up a hand in recognition and turned to the open elevator.

“Nick!”

He spun in the other direction.

Julie hurried toward him. “Dick Grant from the Bureau is running out of patience. He just called again and says he needs to talk to you now, or he's taking his problem up the ladder.”

 

****

 

Cisney sat with her hands folded on her desk, her proposal draft printed and copied, missing only the statistics Nick would provide. No hunting for yellow stickies today. Nick would see she could be organized.

Phil Dupree knocked on her open door, his red tufts of hair touching the top of the doorframe. If his bony arms and legs weren't so awkward, he'd have tempted many basketball coaches.

“Hey, Phil, what can I do for you?”

“I'm taking Nick's place today.”

“What?”

“I'm to get up to speed on your project.” Phil looked confused.

“Why?”

Nick refused to talk to her on his time off, and now he refused to meet with her on company time? Was this personal?

“I don't know why, but that's what I was told to do.”

Heat rose from her toes to the top of her head. “We have a presentation to the executive committee in less than three weeks. We haven't got time to get anyone up to speed. I need solid numbers today to present preliminaries to the Marketing VPs tomorrow. Do you have those numbers? I need them before noon.”

Phil's spine jerked to attention.

How could Nick let her down like this? She'd promised Mom she'd be at the hospital by one.

Phil's thumb clicked his ballpoint pen on and off a few times. “Nick told me last week he wanted me to crunch some numbers for a new project, but we're meeting later today about it.”

She rolled her eyes. Actuaries communicated among themselves no better than they did with the outside world. “So, I'm supposed to bring you up to date on three months of work in an hour so that you can crunch numbers for me by noon?”

BOOK: Calculated Risk
7.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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