It hurt. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mother. I don’t mean any disrespect to you, or to Daddy, but you have to understand that…” The line went dead.
Kerry sighed and hung it up, letting it drop on the table with a dull thud.
“Great. Just freaking, one hundred percent, doesn’t-that-bite-the-big-one, piece of crap, great.” Like her stomach hadn’t hurt enough already. Kerry sat down and cradled her head in her hands.
THE RESTAURANT WAS about three quarters full, and the soft clink of silverware warred with low, buzzing conversation as Dar cocked her head, absorbing the story Michelle was telling her about some problem they’d had with their mainframes. It was sad; Dar had figured out what the problem was ten minutes prior, but she saw no percentage in giving Michelle a freebie, considering her network people had been frustrated over it for a week. “You could contract us to send an analyst out there,” she offered with a frank smile.
Michelle toyed with her fork and peered at her over lashes dusted lightly with a faint golden tinge. “You mean you can’t solve it off the top of your head? Why, Dar, I’m disappointed.”
Dar briefly considered responding with a smart remark about services Tropical Storm 331
and paying for them, then she merely smiled. “Oh, I can’t solve everyone’s problems, but I’m sure one of our engineers could fix you right up.” She took a sip of the champagne Michelle had insisted on, then speared a piece of salmon and glanced outside. The marina the restaurant bordered was full of winking lights, boats traveling in and out and docked. There was a party in full swing on one, with bearded men in denim shorts and women in halter tops trading beers. She fought the urge to loosen her own buttoned collar, and sighed inwardly. “I heard from infrastructure, your circuits are in.”
“Well, that’s good news.” Michelle apparently decided to give up on her prodding. “Took them long enough,” she sniped.
Two weeks for a major T3 circuit wasn’t long, but Dar refused to dispute that. “Problem was your demarc, actually, the telco people tell me it took them six days to get access to the switch room.” She gave Michelle a pleasant look.
“Makes it a little tough to complete the circuit if you can’t get into the facilities.”
“We’re very serious about security,” she responded with a tight-lipped smile. “Just like you are, we don’t let people wander about our buildings anonymously.”
Dar laughed. “Come on, Michelle, two Southern Bell technicians in uniform with their famous truck. How anonymous is that?” She nibbled another piece of salmon as she gazed innocently at the shorter woman, who was neatly decimating a plateful of stuffed shrimp.
Graver didn’t answer for a moment as she swallowed. “Anyone can pick up one of those stupid-looking white helmets and a shirt. We don’t take chances,” she informed Dar. “So, tell me, Dar, I’m curious; what makes someone as experienced as you pick a rank novice as an assistant?”
It came from around the corner, and hit unexpectedly. But Dar hadn’t spent years in the boardroom refining her reactions for nothing. She took a forkful of baked potato and considered the question seriously. Why, Michelle?
Because she’s a babe, and I fell head over heels in love with her at pretty much first sight, of course. No, no, Dar, can’t tell the weeble that. “Well, she was part of an account we consolidated not long ago, and I thought she had some good potential, so I took a chance on her,” she answered evenly. “It paid off. She sent your intranet people some mail telling them how to do a better job securing your network, considering she was able to tap right into your master routers past your firewall.” Another forkful of potatoes followed, and she chewed innocently as Michelle apparently swallowed something the wrong way and hastily took a sip of water. “She’s good, and a fast learner. Why?”
“Just asking.” Michelle cleared her throat. “Actually, she was quite impressive. She’s Roger Stuart’s daughter?”
Dar nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”
Michelle smirked. “That was clever of you. He’s not a friend of your company’s,” she purred. “I sense an ulterior motive here.”
Sure you do, it’s just not the one you’re thinking of, Michelle. “Not really.
Though that might turn out to be an asset,” Dar answered dismissively.
“I’m sure she has many…assets.” Michelle smiled at her. “But enough about her. Tell me more about yourself, Dar.”
It feels like the dinner’s lasted three weeks, Dar reflected as they finally left 332 Melissa Good the restaurant into the cool night air. She took in a breath of it, then stepped forward as the valet brought the Lexus around. She waited for Michelle to settle herself, then she slid into the driver’s side, moving the seat back a little to accommodate her inches.
“Nice.” Michelle ran a finger over the leather surface. “Not quite what I pictured you driving, but nice.”
Dar bit back an answer and started the car. “Thanks, I like it.” She put the Lexus in gear and turned right out onto Bayshore Drive, heading back to pick up the highway and return Michelle to her hotel.
She knew what Michelle was gunning for. That much had been obvious from the moment she’d picked up the shorter woman, when she’d made a point of fingering Dar’s jacket and complimenting her perfume. And she obviously felt that Dar was going to be a willing participant. God knew, she had before, and with less attractive people than Michelle Graver, who was good-looking, experienced, very sensual, and certainly more worldly than the sweetly uncertain Kerry.
Kerry had said, with a warm hand on her arm as they parted in the parking lot. “Dar, have fun. Don’t hold back if you don’t want to.” She’d even smiled. So that was all right, right? Kerry understood it was just business…that she really didn’t like Michelle. It was just…part of the job.
Kerry understood. It wasn’t like it meant anything, and it would be a quick, relatively enjoyable time. Michelle would leave happy, and no harm would be done. Dar pulled up in front of the Hyatt and put the Lexus in Park, half turning towards Michelle as the shorter woman eyed her with warm speculation. “Here we are.”
A smile started on Michelle’s face. “You coming up?” Her voice was low and sure. “I’d love to continue our conversation.”
Dar drew breath to answer, then jumped as her cell phone rang. She pulled it out and flipped it open, giving Michelle an apologetic look. “Yeah?”
“Dar, it’s Mark. We’ve got a big problem,” the MIS chief’s voice burred in her ear.
It was the perfect excuse. It got her off the hook and didn’t leave the interestedly watching Michelle feeling rejected. “Hang on, Mark.” She muted the phone and turned to the shorter woman. “Much as I appreciate the offer, Michelle, and I do, I’m afraid I have to decline.”
A perfectly shaped red eyebrow curved up. “Problems?” She indicated the phone.
Dar met her eyes. “No, but I’m involved with someone, and it’s just not my style.” Damn, that felt good to say. She sighed inwardly as Michelle’s face stiffened into a hidden fury. “And, frankly, you’re not my type.” The door slammed behind her, and Dar leaned back, knowing she’d just caused herself a whole pile of trouble. Amazing how incredibly good that felt. “Okay, Mark, what do we have?” She put the Lexus in gear and pulled away from the towering brown building.
KERRY BARELY MADE it in the door as the phone rang for the fourth time, her skates slipping on the entryway tile and sending her lunging across Tropical Storm 333