policy manual?” she asked incredulously.
“Have you ever written one?”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe that should be your first task. Are you up to the challenge?” He shot her a coy look, and she picked up his pen.
Retrieving the paper, she scribbled new terms next to his, then slid it back to him.”Are you up to these?” He drummed his fingers in silence, and she thought she’d pushed too far.
Finally he folded the paper, stuffed it in the back pocket of his planner and slid from the booth. Carrie sat looking up at him, her stomach in her throat once again.
“Do you have to give notice?”
She exhaled softly.”No.”
“Will eight tomorrow morning work for you?”
She slid from the booth, her feet now inches from his. She put on her best piece-of-cake smile and pretended not to notice his baby blues gazing down at her.”Eight tomorrow it is.”
Early Wednesday morning Gus pulled up at the front door. Carrie yawned, then stretched across the car’s console, planting a kiss on his unshaved cheek.”What would I do without you, Gus McGee?”
He waved his hand as though it were no big deal.”What time should I pick ya up, lass?”
“Uh-uh. You take care of happy hour, and I’ll manage on my own.” She opened her door and stepped out, the wind catching her wild mane. With one hand on the door and the other pushing back a heavily moussed tangle of curls, she gave him one last nervous smile.”Thanks, Gus. I’ll tell you all about it tonight.”
“Okay, lass, but if ya find ya need a ride, ya call.”
She shut the door, made a small X over her breast pocket, then waved over her shoulder as she fought a bone-chilling wind the last dozen yards to the entrance.
This weather was just the wake-up call she needed. She’d helped close the pub at 2:00 a.m., then tossed and turned till the alarm sounded at six. Now, as Carrie strode through the front door of Cunningham Construction, butterflies flickered behind her ribcage and a small laugh passed her lips. The last time she walked out that door, she’d been certain she’d never return.
She punched the elevator button and studied the barren atrium with more interest than the first time. It was a massive space that begged for warmth. Maybe everything had been cleared out in anticipation of the holidays. She could picture a tall pine with all the trimmings and large red poinsettias here and there. The door slid open and she stepped in. She smoothed the wrinkles from her navy skirt and straightened the red-white-and-blue scarf that had been tied in a large, loose bow just above the lapels of her red blazer. When she stepped out a moment later, Peggy came around the reception desk and offered her hand.
“Ms. Sargent…welcome! I’m so glad you got the job.” Her handshake was firm and energetic. Carrie smiled back, knowing she’d already made her first friend at Cunningham Construction.
“Thank you, Peggy. I’m glad to be here. But why don’t you call me Carrie? I’m not big on formalities.”
Peggy pumped her hand again, excitedly.”Okay…Carrie. I can’t tell you how happy I am that we’re getting some help around here…especially someone with all your experience.” She finally let go of Carrie’s hand when the phone rang.
Carrie watched the young woman as she answered the phone. There was a smile in her voice, as well as on her face. Cash was lucky to find this one, she decided, just as she saw him round the corner.
“Ms. Sargent! Welcome aboard.” He closed the space between them and extended his hand. She gripped it in hers, remembering the first time he’d taken her hand in both of his. She shook it quickly and let go, an uneasy feeling spreading through her. Poise. Confidence. Where were they when she needed them? Somehow she found her voice.
“Do you mind calling me Carrie?”
“If that’s what you’d like,” he said, and she noticed him giving her a quick once-over. She did look a little like an American flag, but a clean, crisp American flag. Maybe she should go stand in the atrium and brighten things up.
“So…Cash…where do I begin?”
He arched an eyebrow and she knew her mistake instantly. Cash. He hadn’t asked her to call him by his first name. Oh, for Pete’s sake. This was a construction company, not the UN. She continued to smile at him as if she didn’t have a clue his feathers had been ruffled.
Finally he turned around and said,”Follow me.”
His pace was brisk, no-nonsense. She had trouble keeping up. They passed his open door and he turned into the next room, stopping abruptly, with Carrie right on his heels. Somehow she managed to keep from running into him, but when he turned to face her she was close enough to feel his long sigh on her forehead. She stepped back and pretended to take in the room, avoiding those damnable blue eyes.
“This will be your office,” he said, getting right down to brass tacks.
When she finally did look, she saw an eight-foot walnutveneer folding table in the center, surrounded by eight armless brown vinyl chairs. And nothing else. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it, not in a building as grand as this one.
The carpet was commercial brown tweed. A large glass wall was covered with off-white vertical blinds, the same shade as the flat-painted walls. There had to be a redeeming quality, if she looked hard enough. In her mind’s eye she pictured her first visit. If her memory was right, behind the closed blinds should be a view of the Pacific. With a little work…
“This used to be a conference room,” Cash said, forestalling her decorating ideas.”I never use it anymore, since there’s a larger one with a wet bar in the new wing. Besides, I thought we may find it convenient to be next door to each other.” For some reason he suddenly seemed uncomfortable, but he pushed on.”I’ve ordered a phone, which should be installed Monday. As to the rest, make a list of what you think you’ll need and we’ll talk about it. For now, I’ll take you down to Purchasing and Fran will set you up with basic supplies.”
He started to go and she followed.”And my computer?” she said to his back. He stopped dead in his tracks, and she almost ran into him again. Damn! She wished he’d stop doing that. He turned sideways and eyed her as if she’d just poked a gun in his back.
“Computer?”
“Well, yes. The employee handbook is a very long and arduous project—even with a word processor. And I’ll need desktop publishing for all the related forms. Then I was thinking there would be a company newsletter, and memos for special events…some graphics software would be nice for that—”
Cash held up both hands.”Whoa, slow down. We’ll get you some paper and pencils, stapler, that kind of stuff. Then we’ll see about the rest.”
She saw him roll his eyes as he turned and started off again.
“Of
