I thought faster and immediately commenced bullshitting.
“I have…well, I’m concerned about the performance of a member of my team. Lloyd and I’ve discussed it, and I’ve had a variety of conversations with him but nothing’s working. His numbers were better before I was managing him so I know he has it in him. I’m just…well”—I threw a hand out to the production floor—“thinking maybe he’s too far away from home. Not his home, of course, he lives elsewhere,” I babbled. “The home of Wyler. Maybe if I brought him down here, gave him another tour, reminded him of what we do and how cool it is.” I tipped my head toward the floor and finished lamely, “I don’t know.”
Berger studied me and I tried not to squirm.
Finally, he said, “Chicago.”
Very on the pulse, Travis Berger, to know that kind of detail.
Then again, that was why he made the big bucks.
“Chicago,” I confirmed
“You’re being very patient,” he noted.
I shrugged. “Our business is drugs but those drugs are made to help people. Our employees are also people. So I think, as a company who’s in the business of helping people, we should exhaust every option before decisions need to become more extreme in a way that will negatively affect lives.”
“Yes,” he said, turning toward the windows. “I agree, however irritating these endeavors can be.”
I was glad he wasn’t looking at me because I felt my eyes get wide, seeing as I had a feeling he was referring to the person whose antics had me standing right there.
“Well!” I said too loudly, and he turned immediately to me. “I have a rehearsal dinner to get to. I better get going.”
He nodded, not cracking a smile or even a grin when he said, “Enjoy it, Frankie.”
“Thanks, Travis, I will. Uh…later.”
He nodded again and looked back at the production floor.
I got my ass out of there.
I did it thinking that whatever was happening was none of my business.
I sold pharmaceuticals. I was not in human resources and I was not investigating a murder.
So, Randy Bierman took asshole to extremes and someone on his team got whacked.
It had nothing to do with me.
And yet, I couldn’t shake the thought that, even if it didn’t, it still did.
***
Dusk was forming by the time I hit the lakeside resort where Vi and Cal were holding their wedding.
During one of the many times I went over to Cal and Violet’s place to drink wine, shoot the shit, and be a casual observer while Vi, Kate, and Keira discussed wedding plans, Vi had shown me brochures. But as I got out of my Z, left my bag to grab later, tucked my clutch under my arm, and made my way toward the stately-but-welcoming, flower-festooned, red brick building with its white columns in the front, I saw that this was a case of pictures not doing it justice.
The rehearsal dinner was in one of the private rooms inside. The wedding was going to be outside by the lake.
And taking in the graceful building, I knew it was going to be amazing.
I walked in and found signage that directed me to the Lakeview Lounge, where the dinner was going to be.
I was a couple of minutes late but had texted Benny when I left my place, then proceeded to drive like a crazy lady to get there on time so I wasn’t more late than my ill-advised side trip and crazier-than-normal Friday traffic threatened I would be.
I saw the double doors to the room were opened. I walked through and stopped.
I did this mostly because the back of the room was made up of windows, which had a fabulous view of a flawless green lawn that had pots and flower beds filled with vibrant color and greenery, and beyond that, a massive, tranquil lake, one of many in Indiana.
I also did this because there were three intimately arranged six-seater tables, all with white tablecloths, candles, and exquisite bouquets made of downy-green hydrangea, creamy roses, and spikes of purple iris.
Oh yeah, just with a glance at the rehearsal dinner setup, I knew the girls did good. I also knew this wedding was going to be amazing. Then again, even if they’d decorated in neon and asked everyone to wear ’80s outfits, it would be amazing simply because of the people involved and what this wedding meant.
The end to Cal’s years of grief.
The same for Violet and her girls.
I scanned the room and spotted Benny, his suit-jacketed back to me, Cal on one side wearing dark gray suit trousers and an open-necked, black, tailored shirt. Vi was to Ben’s other side and when I saw her, I smiled.
Cal and Vi, I found, were much like Benny and me in the squabbling department, and this occasion, joyous as it should be, was not immune to said squabbling.
Since Vi had shared during one of my shooting-the-shit times at her place, I knew that Cal wanted his band on her finger and he wanted that done yesterday. He didn’t give a shit about how that happened, he just wanted it to happen. Pronto.
Vi, on the other hand, was not about to make her second star appearance at a wedding wearing a maternity gown, something she’d done at age eighteen during her first big event.
“Been there, done that. This time I’m livin’ the dream,” she’d told me.
Because Cal loved her like crazy and wanted her to have what she wanted, he gave in, but only slightly. That was to say he wanted the wedding as soon as she could pull it off after she had their baby.
Thus commenced more squabbling because Vi didn’t want a maternity wedding part two, but she also didn’t want to be carrying baby weight at her dream wedding.
I was actually there during one of these squabbles, to which Cal remarked, “I don’t give a fuck if you got an extra pound or two.”
“It’ll be more like forty,” Vi retorted.
“Okay, I don’t give a fuck if you got an extra pound or forty,” Cal returned.
“I do!” Vi snapped. “Wedding pictures last an eternity.”
“Yeah. And we’ll look at them and remember a coupla weeks before we got hitched, you gave me my baby girl. How’s that bad?”
You couldn’t really fault that logic, and Vi agreed because she gave him a look but said nothing further.
Therefore, Vi, who had gained thirty-five pounds with Angie, had spent the last six weeks doing what she could to work it off.
Luckily, she was active by nature and went back to the side business she had within a couple of weeks of having Angie. She worked at the garden center in Brownsburg but also maintained a few personal clients’ lawns and gardens. So although the weight didn’t melt off dramatically, she’d taken off fifteen pounds and planned ahead, ordering a wedding dress that was two sizes too big.
At her last fitting on Monday, it had had to be taken in.
And now, she was standing there wearing a purple, strapless cocktail dress with a ruched bodice and a flirty skirt that fell just past her knees, which had a long, green, satin ribbon as a belt, the same adorning the flippy hem. She had on spiked-heeled, strappy green sandals and her fabulous, thick, dark hair was arranged away from her face and fastened in a side ponytail that was a burst of soft curls.
She was smiling at something Benny was saying.
She looked amazing.
She also looked completely happy.
Which made me completely happy.
I quit looking at her, and eyes to the prize (that being Ben’s broad shoulders in his suit jacket), I headed their way.
Cal’s gaze came to me when I was five feet away, Vi’s smile a couple of feet later. Ben noticed and started turning when I was right there.
So when I slid my arms around his middle, I got his back, his side, and full face. This meant I could roll up on the toes of my own strappy sandals and press my mouth against his.
I smelled his aftershave, felt his strength, and therefore couldn’t stop myself from touching the tip of my tongue to his lips before I pulled away.