"Ouch!" she groaned, clutching the side of her bed. Her head was aching and every movement made it worse. The weekend had given her a hangover far worse than any she'd ever suffered from drinking.
Saturday was a blur. She remembered being shown around Morgan Estates during the afternoon, Laurie and Susan whisking her about and fussing over her like two mother hens. After several protests and Kimberly's promise that she'd call Taryn later, they'd finally driven her home. She woke up with a fever Sunday morning and spent the rest of the day in bed, taking cold medicine and falling asleep over her laptop. "So much for finishing my report," she muttered.
Distressed by Kimberly's bout of inactivity and what they considered feline neglect, her three cats were dancing around her feet.
They meowed and purred and rubbed their heads against her ankles.
"Okay, okay," she said. "Breakfast for you and coffee for me."
Donning her robe, she went into the kitchen, the three cats following her.
They waited by their food dishes while Kimberly started the coffeemaker. She filled fresh bowls with crunchy cat food and made the exchange of empty and full bowls with only a minimal of protest from the three felines.
Kimberly flipped the television on and changed the station to CNN.
She poured some coffee and looked over her appointment book.
"Damn!" she said when she saw Camarin Knight's name stenciled in for lunch. The last thing she needed today was an interview. Now she'd have to take care extra special care with how she looked. "Why today?" she moaned, thinking how nice it would be to dress business casual today. She walked to the bathroom, hoping she'd remembered to buy more aspirin.
Forty-five minutes and three aspirins later, Kimberly pulled into the company parking lot. Thankfully, she had a reserved space. There seemed no end to the need for expanded parking, forcing several employees to search for parking spaces on the street. "Thank God for executive privileges," she muttered. After gathering her things, she locked her car and hurried inside.
Michael, her secretary, frowned when she walked into the office.
"You've got five minutes before the meeting," he said, pointing to his watch.
Too tired to even try to explain her tardiness, Kimberly thanked him for the reminder. It wasn't that she owed him any explanation of her whereabouts, but Kimberly knew how office politics worked. The last thing she needed was an employee speculating about what she did over the weekend. "I don't want to get too close to you," she said.
"Virus," she explained when Michael handed her the messages from her in-box. With the handful of pink slips in her fist, she walked into her office and flung them down on the desk. These were phone calls waiting to be answered and she wished she could toss them in the wastebasket. "I'm got to pull out of this," she told herself. She hung her coat and grabbed a writing pad and pen. There was nothing she hated worse than a latecomer, but there was nothing she could do about it now.
The conference room was on the west side of the building overlooking a pond with a fountain in the center. The last to arrive, Kimberly had no choice but to sit facing the sun. This was a section of the building under renovation. Unfortunately, the windows were not yet tinted. Kimberly's head ached and the sun hurt her eyes, but she tried not to squint as she looked around the room.
"Kimberly, I'm so glad you decided to join us," said Martin. His silver hair the only clue to his actual age, he scolded her with his eyes.
"We were just going over the minutes from last week," he said.
Kimberly heard the voices droning in the background. Although she tried to maintain eye contact with the people sitting around the large conference table, she had to fight to keep from falling asleep.
The meeting seemed to go on forever. Her mind a jumble of confusion, Kimberly wanted nothing more than a few minutes alone to collect her thoughts and figure out what was happening to her.
When the meeting finally ended, she gathered her papers and hurried back to her office.
She stopped by Michael's desk first, remembering to keep her distance because she might still be contagious. She picked up her morning mail and some additional messages. Michael was on the telephone with someone. He looked up, pointed to her calendar, and mouthed a reminder about her meeting with Camarin Knight.
Kimberly acknowledged the reminder and continued to her office.
Camarin Knight said she was a reporter for some new zine called Executive News. When she first approached Kimberly about doing a story, Kimberly was excited. But then she told Pat and her friend warned her to be very careful.
"Watch what you say," Pat warned her. "I've heard this woman has no principles whatsoever and she'll do anything to get a scoop on your personal life."
Kimberly thought about her friend's advice and wished she had time to change her mind. However, it would not look good to cancel a meeting only two hours prior to the scheduled time. She sighed and poured herself a cup of coffee. After sorting her messages in order of priority, she started returning calls. The two hours passed without notice. She was so intent on her work that Michael's sudden appearance in the doorway startled her.
"Didn't mean to scare you," he said. "I'm getting ready to go to the training center for my class in the new software program. All set for your meeting with Camarin Knight?"
"Not really, but it's too late to back out now," she replied.
"Need me to come along?" he asked.
Kimberly smiled at her secretary. "No thanks, Michael. I'll be okay," she assured him. Michael seemed more like a brother than a secretary to her. She remembered his fondness for Italian breadsticks.
"We're lunching at Tony B's. Want me to bring you back some breadsticks?"
Michael smiled. "Would you?" he asked, his voice sounding shy and uncertain.
Kimberly smiled. "Of course," she replied. Michael was very athletic, his body as finely tuned as his desk and office space was organized. "How do you keep everything running so smoothly?"
she'd once asked.
Michael had winked, a coy expression on his face. "Kimberly, I do things outside of work. Fun things like spending time with my lover.
Perhaps you need to spend more time doing things to work off the stress."
Kimberly smiled, watching Michael leave. His effeminate gestures and polite elegance hinted to others that he was gay. To Kimberly's knowledge, he confided in no one other than herself and a friend who worked in the legal department. Kimberly found herself wondering about Michael a lot lately. What was his life like outside of work?
Did he keep his personal life private because he wanted to do so? Or was it a necessity borne of the negative stereotyping that took place when people learned someone was gay?
By the time Kimberly returned all her calls and caught up on her mail, it was time to leave for her meeting. She sighed and checked herself in the mirror. "Could be worse," she muttered.
Camarin Knight prided herself on being punctual. When she arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes late, she was not a happy person. Rudely pushing her way through the crowded lobby, she snapped at the hostess. "Has Kimberly Justin arrived yet?"
The elderly couple waiting in line to be seated seemed totally unperturbed by Camarin's aggressiveness. They stepped back and smiled, as if to say, "Go ahead. We have all the time in the world."
Their patience added fuel to the fire already kindled in Camarin Knight. She looked over her shoulder and glared at them.
Kimberly saw Camarin following the hostess to the table. She noticed right away that something was seriously wrong. With all the other things going on, Kimberly was determined to keep her cool with Camarin. She stood and extended her hand. "Hello, Camarin."
"Hello, Kimberly. I'm sorry I'm late," she began. "My taxi got tangled up in a traffic jam caused by road construction on Lakeshore Drive. Doesn't it sometimes seem that winter and road repair are the only two seasons we have."