Pretense (27 page)

"Do you hate sitting down there with the machines?"

"It's not my favorite, but the girls take turns with me. We manage to make it work."

"Feel free to come here and do some too, Marrell. You could stay as long as you like."

"Thanks, and thank you for the tea."

"You're very welcome."

Marrell pushed to her feet and went to join the girls in the living room. She spent some time with Jana, who was a little sweetheart.

"Watch this, Mom," Delancey said, holding a pink bunny up in front of Jana's face. The little girl squirmed with delight.

"Oliver bought that," Shay said with a laugh, "at the grocery store, no less. He went for eggs and bread and came back with a bunny and milk."

The Bishop women thought this hysterical.

"Are you serious?" Marrell asked.

"Yes. It was right after she was born, and he was so excited that he just forgot."

It was a sweet note on which to leave. The girls laughed about it off and on all the way home.

The first weeks of school were nothing short of torture for Mackenzie Bishop. She was in ninth grade, and that meant high school. The high school was bigger, combining her junior high school with two others. There were many kids she didn't know. At any other time, having Brett Cooper as a lab partner would have made her groan, but since she was in a sophomore science class, and he was one of the few kids she knew, it was almost

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a relief. The first day they sat at their lab stations, Mackenzie steeled herself for his scorn, but she didn't get it. He had a steady girl now and had clearly done some maturing.

"I saw you in gym class yesterday," he said one day at the end of September.

"I didn't see you."

"The guys were in the weight room."

"Oh, yeah. I'd heard that Coach Pullman was starting you guys on weight training."

"Yeah. We'll be at it all the way through basketball. I think you should go out."

"For basketball?"

"Yes, the girls' team. I saw you shooting yesterday, and your lay-ups are good."

Mackenzie stared at him. He was the third person to say something. She had never played any serious basketball and didn't think she was any good, but her gym teacher had been one of the people. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the compliments when she shot baskets, especially from the free-throw line.

"I don't know" was all she said.

If Mackenzie had known the truth, Brett was aware of the way her father had died. He had seen it in the paper. He had hated Mackenzie when she wouldn't go out with him, but after reading about her father, he hated her no longer. The compliment was sincere about her basketball skills. At 6'1", he played a lot of ball himself and knew what to look for.

"You don't have to decide today. I don't think the girls' tryoutsstart until next Monday."

Mackenzie only nodded because they had to get back to work, but he had certainly gotten her attention. Indeed, she mentioned it to her mother that night during dinner.

"Why, Micki," Marrell said with pleasure, "I think that's a great idea. When would you do this?"

"Tryouts start Monday. I just have to be there after school for a week of practices, and then Coach will post the team on Friday when we're done."

"What if you don't make it?" Delancey asked.

Mackenzie shrugged. "Coach was one of the people who said I should try out, so I don't know if that means something or not."

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"What time will you be done each day?"

"I think about 4:30."

Marrell looked uncertain, and Mackenzie picked up on it.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't think anything, but Shay called today, and I have an interview tomorrow-something she set up."

Marrell had had several interviews since the girls had gone back to school, so they didn't know why this was any different.

"I don't understand what the problem is," Mackenzie pressed her.

Marrell shrugged. "There isn't one, but Shay is sure I'll get this job, and if I do, I'll probably have to start right away. If that's the case, I don't know if I'll be free to pick you up at 4:30."

Mackenzie finally understood, and she didn't like it. Once again she'd been taking her mother for granted. She was always there for them, dropping everything to see to their needs. Mackenzie was ready to say she would forget basketball, but Marrell had second-guessed her.

"I want you to do this, Micki. If I end up at a job next week, we'll figure out a way."

Mackenzie agreed, completely unaware of the way her mother was silently begging God to let it be true.

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Fifteen

Marrell's palms were so damp the next day that her purse nearly slipped from her grasp. None of the other businesses had called her back. She had interviewed for two receptionist jobs and even gone back to Shay's old office. Nothing had panned out. Now she was headed into Bayside Architecture and had no greater hopes than before.

It was a square building, three stories high, and as soon as she entered the elegant lobby, she told herself it would never work. Shay would have given her a lecture for this, but she didn't care.

"I've got something for you" had been Shay's excited call to her.

"What is it?"

"A job."

"A job? What are you talking about, Shay?"

"It's with another architect in town, Marrell. It's a great firm, and the man whose secretary needs an office assistant is a wonderful Christian man. He goes to our church."

"Oh, Shay, I don't know. I don't really know anything about architecture, and I can't pretend that I do."

"You don't have to. I've talked with Jack, and it sounds like the job is just what you were doing at my office."

Marrell had sighed. "Whom do I call?"

"You don't. I already set up the interview. It's for Wednesday at 11:30. You'll fill out a job application when you get there, so take everything you need. Then you'll go to lunch with his secretary, since you'll be working mostly with her. If she likes you, you'll interview with Jack. They are very good about calling one way or the other." Shay had thrown in this last part because

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Marrell's biggest complaint was employers who said, "We'll call you," and never did.

Had it just been yesterday that she had the conversation with Shay?
Marrell now asked herself, absently reading that Jackson Avery's office was on the second floor, Suite 6, and then making her finger push the elevator button. There were mirrors on the walls inside the elevator. Marrell thought she looked pale and pursed her lips together to spread her light pink lipstick a bit better. She had opted for a pale blue suit and pulling her hair back in a neat chignon. She hoped she didn't look too stuffy or more professional than she really was. Her handbag and low- heeled pumps were navy.

The elevator was much too fast. The door opened onto the second floor before she was ready, and with just ten steps across the second-floor lobby, she was at Suite 6.J
ackson Avery, Architect,
it said on the door. Marrell smoothed her already- smooth skirt, tugged at the bottom of her jacket, and opened the door.

The waiting room was not huge but richly carpeted and wallpapered in dark green and navy. At the end of the rather long room sat two desks, side by side, behind which were two very large windows looking out over the city. Marrell's own feet seemed to find a life of their own as she approached the desk where a young, dark-haired woman sat.

"Hello," she greeted Marrell with a smile.

"Hello, I'm Marrell Bishop. I have an appointment. I might be a little early."

"No, you're just right," the woman said as she stood, extending her hand. "I'm Taya Albright. Did you find us all right?"

"Yes, I wasn't sure about the parking."

"We have a lot under the building. If things work out, you'll be given a sticker for your car and be able to park there for free. Why don't you have a seat and fill this out for me," Taya went on. "Let me know when you're finished, and we'll go to lunch."

Lunch went well. Taya's questions were kindly put and Marrell found herself relaxing more and more. Not until the end of the meal did Taya take some time to tell Marrell what the office was looking for. By the time Marrell actually stood back in the lobby of Suite 6, she was ready to run for her life.

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Taya had used terms like
facade
and
quoins,
and Marrell thought her head would spin. Then she had referred to CAD seats and massing studies. Marrell had no idea what the younger woman was talking about.

Taya moved back inside the inner office, and Marrell stood by the desk, her mind going a hundred miles an hour.I
can't do this,
Marrell's panicked heart told her.
I've got to find a way to explain.
But it was too late.

"Mr. Avery is ready to see you now, Marrell." Taya was back much too swiftly. "Come on in, and I'll introduce you."

Marrell followed but called herself every type of fool. She knew the job was from 8:30 to 5:00 Monday through Friday, and that she would be expected to type some, answer the phone, and file, but she realized now that she should have asked more questions-many more.

"Marrell Bishop, this is Mr. Avery."

A tall man stood and came around from behind his desk. He had a dark mustache and a head full of brown hair, although Marrell noticed the graying at the temples. His suit was dark blue, but his jacket was off, showing a pale pink shirt and light rose and navy striped tie.

"Hello, Marrell. It's good to meet you."

"Thank you," Marrell responded. She could feel her face blushing. How did she explain without making a complete fool of herself?

"Have a seat," Jack invited and went back to sit in his desk chair. Marrell was vaguely aware of Taya leaving and shutting the door.

"I've read your application over. How did you like working for Sharon Elliot?"

"Very well. It was interesting work," she was able to say honestly, but knew she couldn't leave it at that. "I don't think I learned much about architecture, Mr. Avery, but Shay said it was always nice to have an extra pair of hands in the office."

Jack smiled before saying, "Tell me a little about yourself."

"Well, I live with my two daughters here in the city." She paused and then made herself admit, "I'm recently widowed, so I'm looking for a job. I don't have a lot of experience."

"Have you done much office work?"

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"I did take business classes in high school, but that's been a number of years ago now."

"How long were you with Elliot and Associates?" he asked while scanning the application.

"About a year."

Jack nodded, his eyes still kind as he looked up at her and asked his standard question. "Tell me, Marrell, why should I hire you?"

Marrell's hands were so slick she thought she could use a towel, but none of that showed in her face when in a low voice she said, "You shouldn't, Mr. Avery."

Jack was so stunned that he blinked at her and sat forward in his chair.

Her voice was still soft as she took a deep breath and continued. "I would never want you to think I can do the job if I can't, Mr. Avery, and after talking with Taya, I just don't think I'm qualified."

Marrell started to gather her purse.

"Marrell," Jack said compassionately but was ignored.

"I'm so sorry to have wasted your time. You've been very kind."

"Marrell," he said again, but she was now on her feet.

"Goodbye."

Jack finally caught her at the door.

"Marrell, please stop."

Marrell did but wouldn't turn to look at him. She could feel that tears had gathered in her eyes, and she would rather die than let him see.

"I ask everyone that question," he exclaimed, his eyes on her profile. "It's not meant to intimidate or put you on your guard. It's just a standard question, and I can see now that maybe it shouldn't be."

"I'm not who you want for this job, Mr. Avery."

"I need to tell you that you come very highly recommended, Marrell. Shay Lacy couldn't say enough about you." He didn't mention that Taya had termed her "perfect."

"You need to know," Marrell turned without thinking, showing him the tears he already knew were there, "that Shay is a very good friend."

"Be that as it may, she would never lie to me. She's ethical and too much of a professional for that. If you don't want this

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job, Marrell, I would never push it on you, but anyone as honest as you are can start in the morning."

Marrell blinked up at him. "You're willing to hire me?"

"Yes."

"What if I can't do the job?"