Corporate policy states that all personnel achieve a reasonable amount of sleep in every twenty-four hour period. Please adhere to the regulations from now on.
DR
“What’s that supposed to mean? What is she, some kind of lunatic? She gives me a crazy deadline of one stupid week to do something in, then says to make sure I sleep?” Kerry let out a vexed sigh, then set up a reply and cut most of the message out, except the header and the last line. “Okay, Ms. Wise Guy Alien from Mars, take that.” She highlighted the time on Dar’s header and made it boldface, then dropped down below the executive’s last line and typed in a comment. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
With a smirk, she sent the message, then turned off her monitor and trudged over to the lamp, shutting it off and heading into her bedroom. It featured a neatly made double-sized bed covered with a striped comforter in southwestern colors against one wall under the small window, a five-drawer dresser against one wall, and a long, three-drawer dresser with a half-height mirror, all in white wood. The carpet was a pale blue pile, and she wriggled her toes into its softness with a contented sigh as she crossed the floor, then climbed into bed and got under the covers.
She could see the stars from there, and she watched them twinkle, trying to dispel the awful feeling of doom that had sat on her chest since Dar’s visit.
For her people, sure, she felt horrible, and hoped she could help them. But for herself… She glanced around the neat bedroom and swallowed, remembering how good she’d felt when she finally got things just how she wanted them, and how proud she was of how nice everything looked. She liked it here. Her neighbors were nice and the complex was friendly; there was a mall close by for shopping; and she even had a little grill on the porch for when a few friends came over and barbecued.
It was so nice to be out on her own. No one questioned if she stayed up late or stayed out. No one questioned how she dressed, or who she talked to.
She was…very happy here.
Now this.
Part of her hated the corporation. Part of her also wanted to hate Dar Roberts, who applied the corporation’s polices with such obvious relish. They felt large, impersonal, and scornful of anything she might try to do. And yet…
24 Melissa Good Kerry sighed. It was obvious Dar was smart; she had an air about her that made Kerry believe she didn’t get crossed much, and when she did, the results were unpredictable. But on the tour, she’d asked some very sharp questions, and those incredible blue eyes hadn’t missed much.
Whoa. Incredible? What am I thinking here? Kerry firmly closed her own eyes, and pulled the blanket up around her chin. The only thing incredible about Dar Roberts is her incredible arrogance. So there.
Chapter Two
“MORNING.” DAR NODDED at her companions on the elevator as the doors slid shut and it started on its way up. She got polite murmurs back from the mostly junior staff who came in at this time of the morning. Eight AM was the start time for most of the data entry clerks and the administrative staff, and they all were somewhat in awe of her and not inclined to chatter in her presence.
She left them at lower levels and proceeded up to the fourteenth floor in solitude, waiting for the doors to open, then stepping out onto the executive level. Her office was on one corner, the windows wrapping around to give her a view of both the ocean and the skyline, and she pushed her way through the door to the outer office with a sigh. “Morning, Maria.”
Her secretary turned and smiled. “Good morning, Dar. It is much nicer in here today, let me tell you. I don’t know what miracle from Our Lady happened last night, but it is good.” She finished sprinkling a little water on the plant near her desk, then went to the small counter nearby. “I’ll get you some coffee. I’m glad you weren’t here yesterday.”
Dar smiled quietly and went into her inner office, setting her briefcase down and powering up her desk system. After three hours of sleep, coffee is definitely a good idea, she decided, sitting down with a sigh and running her fingers through her hair. The machine beeped, then requested her logon, which she provided impatiently, pressing the keys with a smooth motion. Her mail came up, and she scrolled through the morning’s messages, stopping when she saw a response from a name that was almost familiar by now.
She read it, then smiled. “Short but sweet.” And the kid has a sense of humor too, she noted, seeing the boldface. She was still smiling when Maria walked in, carrying a small tray and putting it down on Dar’s desk. “Ooo…what do we have here?” She arched an eyebrow at the secretary.
Maria looked at her with a severe frown. “Carisita is telling me Gerardo in the cleaning staff is getting these for you special, because you stay here all last night to fix everything. Is that true, Dar?”
Dar deftly snagged one of the brown, layered pastries on the tray and bit into it. “Mmm.” She loved pastelitos, the Cuban specialties that could contain almost anything, but usually featured flaky layers stuffed with cheese, or meat, or minced ham. These were the latter, but Dar had also spotted some guava and cheese, which were her second favorites.
“Dar?” Maria tapped her neatly manicured and painted a startling shade of red fingernails on the desktop.
26 Melissa Good
“Someone had to, Maria.” The executive shrugged, finishing one treat and selecting another. “Besides, these made it worth it. Where does he get them? They’re great.”
The Spanish woman sighed. “You are too much, I think.” She pushed the tray over. “Here, I have to type up those letters about the service changes.”
She bustled towards the door, closing it behind her and leaving her boss in private with her treats.
Dar read the rest of her mail while finishing the pastries and draining the large coffee Maria had brought with them. She muttered as she answered most of it, sending back terse replies, and one instance of just a single word,
“Bullshit.”
The phone buzzed. “Dar, I have Alastair on numero uno for you.” There was a slight pause, “Oh. Numero dos.”
The tall woman rolled her eyes. “All right.” She punched the button.
“How’s things in Houston, Alastair?”
“I have no idea,” the cheerful voice answered. “I’m in Troy. I hope they’re sweating their asses off down there. How’s it going with Associated?”
“Not bad. I broke the news to them yesterday, and I’m waiting for the fallout,” Dar replied. “I figure a quarter of them will just take off voluntarily and solve half my problem for me.”
A low chuckle emerged from the phone. “That’s my Dar.” He coughed slightly. “I hear we had a problem down there?”
“Minor.” Dar shrugged it off. “Some idiot backed a fork loader into the switchroom back entrance and took out six punch-down panels, along with the hardware for controlling the air conditioning.” She leaned back, crossing her arms. “I had to raise a little hell.”
“I heard,” Alastair replied. “I had the president of the building association on my line this morning. He’s an old classmate of mine.”
Connections. Dar sighed. They never ended. Whatever you did, you eventually had to hear about it somewhere down the line. “And?” She waited for the reprimand.