I feel like Jeff before Awesome gave him that prescription. But man, was it worth it. We partied until long after the bride and groom had left. Then my boyfriend decided 1 am was a good time to watch Despicable Me. He forgot to mention that we had to get up at 7 – had I known, I would’ve flushed the remotes. Bottom line, I’m exhausted, so this is all you’re getting from me.
When I’ve figured out how the comments thingy works, I’ll reply to everyone who has left one. See you Tuesday/Wednesday-ish.
11. Good PR
Sarah half-sat half-stood against the armrest of the couch, her arms folded and her feet crossed at her ankles. The scene in front of her would have been comical, had she not been mentally ticking off everything that could go wrong. Oblivious to her reservations, Carina turned on her heel, her hands clasped behind her back, and marched five steps before stopping in front of the house staff.
“Ms. Walker’s husband’s name is…?” she asked for the third time by Sarah’s count.
“Chuck Bartowski,” the cook answered.
“And she kept her maiden name…”
“For professional reasons to avoid confusion in her business dealings.” It was the housekeeper’s turn.
“But…” Carina prompted, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised a fraction of an inch.
“But she goes by Bartowski otherwise,” the housekeeper quickly added.
“And their daughter is called…” This time the question was directed at the butler who, instead of answering, simply glared over Carina’s head at the opposite wall. She took a threatening step forward, but he didn’t even flinch.
“Casey…” Carina warned, “The daughter who you will be babysitting if you do not co-operate…”
“Margaret,” he grunted. “Maggie for short.”
“And her nickname?” Sarah could see that Carina was enjoying this far too much. She’d always made an effort to ruffle his feathers.
“Carina,” Sarah intervened, “that’s enough.”
“Boo,” Casey replied nonetheless, his normal gruffness making him sound like a ghost with a head cold.
“I think they’ve got it.” Sarah nodded at the staff to let them know they were dismissed.
“It’s not them I’m worried about,” Carina stated once they were alone. “Are you sure this Chuck guy will be able to pull it off? He looks like the jittery type.”
“Chuck will be fine,” Sarah assured her. She had no way of actually knowing that, but the wheels had been set in motion, and aside from calling the whole thing off completely, she didn’t really have much choice but to push forward and hope for the best.
“If you say so,” Carina replied, not sounding at all convinced, which only added to Sarah’s growing irritation.
“Would you stop criticizing? We’re in this situation because of you. Six people are about to commit fraud because you decided to ‘sell it’. And one of them still has her baby teeth.”
Carina shot her an incredulous look. “It’s not fraud.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “It’s good PR.”
“I don’t care how you spin it, Carina. It’s fraud.”
“It’s an innocent lie. No one’s gonna get hurt.” Sarah snorted disbelievingly. “See,” Carina continued, waving her hand in a vague gesture. “This is why you’re not cut out for the business world. You’re not prepared to do whatever it takes to succeed.”
“There are boundaries.”
“Boundaries are meant to be crossed.”
“Says the lawyer.”
“Indeed.” Carina smirked, knowing full well that she got the last word in, as she often did. Then she blinked down at her watch. “By the way, your Mr. Right-for-the-Job is running late.”
---0---
12. Boy Scouts and muggers
Sarah had gone from worried to being ticked off. Chuck was almost an hour late and his phone went straight to voicemail each time she’d called. If he’d decided to renege on the deal, the least he could’ve done was to let her know.
Carina’s head popped around the doorjamb. “Anything?” she asked.
Sarah shook her head. She’d been staring at her phone for the last fifteen minutes, willing it to ring, but to no avail. The study suddenly became stifling. She pushed back from the desk, stood and pocketed her cell. “I need some air.”
“You want me to make that call?” Carina asked. She had already come up with a backup plan, stating in no uncertain terms that Bryce would do anything for a buck, as if Sarah needed reminding. She had little choice in the matter, other than calling off the sale, but just the thought of Bryce touching her ever again made her stomach recoil. And they’d still have the problem of being sans child.
“Not yet.”
“Sarah…” Carina’s patience was running thin as well. “We’re cutting if very close.”
“Just give him another thirty minutes.”
Sarah didn’t wait for a reply. She pushed past Carina and made her way down the hall. She knew she was probably delaying the inevitable, but there was still time. Another wave of anger flared up. If Chuck let her down, proving that her ability to read people had been seriously lacking of late, she’d make sure that he would regret it. No one was going to dupe her again. She grabbed her jacket from the coat rack and pulled it on before opening the front door.
Chuck skidded to a halt just in time to avoid barreling into her.
“I am so, so sorry we’re late.” He was out of breath, but that didn’t seem to deter him. “Ballet rehearsal went on longer than I thought it would and I was playing games on my phone and the battery ran down and I tried calling from a payphone, but your number is on my phone which was a problem and I tried the Buy More but explaining to Big Mike why I needed your number didn’t go too well and then he didn’t even have it and I tried to get here as soon as I could.” He gasped a deep breath and held up two fingers in some sort of salute causing the dry-cleaning bag hanger hooked around his thumb to balance precariously. “Scout’s honor.”
Sarah’s mood deflated instantly. “Well, at least you made it.” And no one would be calling on Bryce.
She reached over to save his suit from taking a possible tumble to the ground. Her knuckles brushed against the bottom of his palm and he jerked his hand away and wiped it on his jeans leg.
“Sweaty palms,” he explained with a sheepish grin. “Happens all the time when I’m nervous.” As if to prove it, he switched the small suitcase he’d been holding to his free hand and repeated the gesture.
“Oh,” was all Sarah could think of to say as she tried to ignore the sudden fluttering in her stomach.
Chuck pursed his lips, gripped the duffle that was swung over his shoulder and tilted his head in the direction of the door. “We should probably…” He trailed off, giving her an uncertain look.
Sarah realized she’d been rooted to the spot and quickly stepped aside so he could enter. “Of course.” Then her eyes narrowed. “Chuck, where’s Maggie?”
He sent a quick glance over his shoulder. “Still in the car. She fell asleep on the way over. I’ll get her in a minute.” He raised the suitcase. “Where can I put this?”
“I’ll take that.”
Chuck jumped in surprise when someone spoke beside him. He hadn’t heard the other man approach and when Chuck had to tilt his head back to meet the man’s stoic face, he wondered how it was even possible for him to sneak up on people. The guy was huge. And imposing, he added in his mind.
“Chuck, this is Casey. He runs things around here.”
Casey grunted in response and held his hands out for Chuck’s luggage. Chuck just stared. A quip about The Sunshine Band had sprung to mind, but he thanked his lucky stars that the words hadn’t passed his lips. No trachea would be a match for those beefy fingers. Prompted by another growl from Casey, Chuck handed over his daughter’s pink suitcase with an uneasy swallow. The man took it between his thumb and index finger, a look of distaste flashing across his face as if he realized it made him look like Barbie’s bellhop. Then the glare fell on Chuck’s duffle and he surrendered it, wondering if this was what it felt like to be mugged.
---0---
13. Time to measure up
It served him right, Chuck thought as he shifted from one foot to the other and back again. The redhead, who Sarah had introduced as Carina, circled a little too closely, studying him from his mop of curls down to his worn chucks. He flashed back to a few days before, when Sarah had first entered the Buy More, and felt guilty for the umpteenth time for eyeing her like a predator. Of course he’d been more subtle about it, but that was beside the point. He wanted to apologize, but couldn’t do that without admitting his wrongdoing, so instead he vowed to do his best to help her with this deal. Sure, she was paying him, but he figured racking up a few good Karma points couldn’t hurt. That was the only reason he was trying his best not to squirm under the judging gazes he was now enduring.
“Can you work with this?” Technically Carina was talking to the Wookie on his shirt, but Chuck assumed the question had not been directed at him.
“Sí,” the tailor, Signore Anthony, replied. Then the gray-haired man crossed the room to stand in front of Chuck, inserted two fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugged. “Slim waist,” he remarked with a heavy Italian accent. “Many la donna would kill for that.”
Carina gave an amused snort which Chuck ignored. He rather kept his focus on Signore Anthony kneeling down in front of him, or more specifically, the measuring tape he’d whipped out of his pocket. He eyed the wrinkly fingers with growing unease as they traced a path up his leg and when they brushed over his mid-thigh, showing no sign of stopping, Chuck flinched into a half-Morgan and squeaked a pitchy “hi-oh”.
“Is this really necessary? I brought a suit.”
Carina made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. “Is it Armani?”
“No, it’s my dad’s,” Chuck replied without missing a beat. Carina opened her mouth only to close it again without uttering a sound. Twice. Chuck had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from grinning, but Carina noticed and shot him a threatening glare before storming out of the room.
“Well played, Signore,” the older man nodded solemnly.
“Yeah, but she’s going to make me pay for that, isn’t she?”
“Sí,” Signore Anthony confirmed needlessly while rummaging through the clothing articles hanging on a portable rail. He unhooked a pair of pants, ran his fingers along the material as he measured it with his eyes and then he turned back to face Chuck. “Now business. Drop your pants please.”
