“Oh! You startled me. Real y, Nina, you could at least call if you’re going to visit so early.”
“We’re not visiting. We’re moving in,” I said, making my way up the stairs.
Cynthia rushed to the first step, looking up at us. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Jared turned to face her. “Donovan set explosives in the loft. Everything except what’s in our bags is gone.”
Cynthia paused for a moment, a common tactic of hers to calm her voice before she spoke when she was angry or taken off-guard. “Wel . I’m glad Nina’s safe. How long wil you be staying?”
“Indefinitely,” I said.
I had reached the top before she spoke again.
“You’re filthy,” she snapped, her heels clicking to the kitchen.
I smiled. She was always snippy when she didn’t want to show emotion—the soft sort.
Trying to find a professional ensemble from my high school wardrobe was nothing short of frustrating. It was then that it hit me that al of my belongings were gone. Everything Jared and I had purchased together, the bed we shared...the downstairs tub. Different items in the loft flickered through my mind. It was strange how each of them, however insignificant they used to seem, were attached to a memory.
Tears pooled in my eyes and escaped down my cheek. I wiped them away and groaned. “I have nothing to wear! What was I thinking buying this crap?” I yel ed. “Not a single pair of pumps matches anything in my closet!”
Jared sat on the end of bed, letting me express my anger and frustration with an understanding expression. After the rage-fueled tirade to find the right pair of shoes, I rode with Jared to Titan Mercantile.
We didn't speak for most of the trip. Jared kept his eyes on the road, no doubt formulating a plan for the next step in finding the book. I was too tired to initiate conversation, or to try to find out piece by piece what plan of action he was considering.
“See you soon,” Jared smiled.
I kissed his cheek, and then stepped out onto the curb, looking back once more before pushing through the entrance doors.
Beth waited me for me in my office, already organizing my call list in order of importance.
“And don’t forget the conference with the Japanese firm at nine,” she said, her head down.
“I’ve told you a mil ion times, Beth. Yawatahama. It’s not that hard if you practice.”
Beth raised her hands in frustration and then dropped them, letting the papers in her hands slap her thighs. “I sound ridiculous,” she said. “Sasha laughs at me every time I try.”
“Oh, to hel with Sasha. Ask her to say something German. She sounds like a bloated mule.”
Beth laughed out loud, surprised at my mood. “You’re not sleeping again, are you?”
Two quick knocks, and then Grant opened my office door wide, keeping his hand on the knob. “The prodigal daughter returns! How was your trip?”
“Great, Grant. I’m busy, what do you need?” I said, putting the phone to my ear.
His expression screwed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “The Bainbridge group wil be here in twenty minutes, Nina. Why didn’t you just wear pajamas?”
From col arbone to scalp, the burn of infuriation ignited my face in what I was sure was a beautiful shade of tomato red. My outstretched arm, with a rigid, pointed finger at the end, silently warned Grant to leave.
“Back away slowly, Mr. Bristol. No sudden movements,” Beth said.
Grant nodded, stepping backward until he was out of sight.
Beth placed a smal bag on my desk. “Foundation, blush, mascara and gloss. Get it on. I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen.”
She closed the door softly behind her, and I took a deep breath. Just get through the day, I thought.
My cel phone rang once. “Not now, Jared,” I said aloud, knowing he could hear. The second ring cut short. “Thank you,” I whispered. I opened the compact from Beth’s bag, and looked at myself in the mirror. “Holy Banshee, Nina! Get yourself together!” I said to myself.
Sasha stood next to the coffeemaker in the meeting room. “Miss Grey,” she said handing me a fresh, steaming mug.
“Thanks,” I said, frowning with confusion at her polar disposition. Wondering what she was up to was not on my agenda for the morning, not to mention I didn’t have the time or patience for it. That wouldn’t stop me from finding out, however.
The meeting went smoothly, and then I returned to my office, opening the door long enough for Beth to fol ow me through. I turned to see Grant and Sasha just behind her, but I shut the door. “Not now,” I said flatly.
“Okay, Nina. Total y unprofessional,” Sasha said, half laughing, half surprised.
Beth watched the door for a moment in shock, and then turned to me. “What the heck’s going on with you?” she asked. “And what’s that smell ? Have you been…camping?” she said, sniffing once.
I puffed, blowing my bangs from my face. “No. The loft is gone. Burned to the ground.”
“What?” Beth yelped.
“Keep it down. I don’t need a bunch of sympathetic wel wishers in and out of my office al day. Do me a favor?”
“Sure, Honey, anything.”
I pul ed a black credit card from my purse and handed it to her. “Go shopping for me. I need work clothes mainly, and undergarments, and a new briefcase. Makeup. You know what I use. And,” I looked down, “I want a pair of those,” I said, nodding to her pink satin pumps. Even in my foul mood, I couldn’t stop admiring the black lace col ar and bow at the toe.
Beth smiled. “Yes Ma’am. You need a place to stay?”
“I’m back at home.”
“Yikes,” Beth said, her mouth pul ing to one side.
“Tel me about it. And, Beth? If you can find anything to get the smoke out of my hair…get it. I don’t care how much it costs.”
“Lemon juice,” she said. “Then wash it out with shampoo. That’s what I do after I visit my Uncle.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Beth shut the door, and then I heard a scuffle.
“I said no!” Beth said, stumbling back against the door.
Sasha pushed her way through, and then smiled, smoothing her blazer and hair. “Nina. I need to talk to you.”
Beth stared at Sasha as if she’d gone insane.
“Nina,” Sasha said with a smile, breathing hard from her scuffle with Beth. “It wil just take a minute.”
“It’s okay, Beth,” I said, motioning for Sasha to sit.
Beth narrowed her eyes. “Maybe for you, but if I wasn’t at work I would have kicked her bony little ass,” she said through her teeth, slamming the door.
“Wel ,” Sasha said, settling in the seat. “So much for southerners having manners.
“Keep in mind Beth holds grudges,” I said, thumbing through papers on my desk.
“What do you mean? She’s... southern.” She said the word with disdain. I could see in her eyes that at least five generations of Eastern audacity had blinded her to how tacky she sounded.
I looked up. “Yes, wel …they’re polite. That doesn’t mean you can’t make an enemy out of them.”
“Oh,” Sasha said, looking back to the door nervously. “I…er…Grant wanted me to ask you about the Christmas party.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I have faxes coming out of my ears, and you’re shoving your way into my office to talk about finger foods? Don’t waste my time.”