Georgia on Her Mind(21)

“Check your schedule. Let me know if you have questions.” Mike pounds his palm with his pen.

I double click on the shortcut to the company Intranet to check our schedule.

“I might need some vacation days.” There’s Dad’s launch party, and the reunion, though I haven’t decided if I’m going to either yet.

“Oh?”

I glare up at him. “I still get vacation, don’t I?”

“Um, well, I can check with Roni, but I’m sure you do.”

I feel a little sick to my stomach as the schedule opens. I find my name and check out my assignments. Lovely. Just lovely. Two weeks in Smallville, Kansas, another two in Podunk, Mississippi, and a week in Desert Town, Nevada.

I snap my head up. Mike continues to stand in the doorway. “And I get all the small towns because…”

“Just worked out that way.”

Yeah, right, it just worked out that way. Who’s he kidding? I see New York, L.A., Portland, Dallas, Seattle, St. Louis on the schedules of less senior people. Don’t I get some credit for hanging around for ten years?

If I didn’t know better, I’d say Mike—or Roni—was trying to get rid of me. Do they know I saw them out the window that day?

No. Besides, it’s all innocent, right? Roni promoted Mike because she wants someone to control. He’s got more loops for puppet strings than Pinocchio.

After Mike walks away, I study the schedule for a swap possibility. Aleta is going to New York City when I’m going to Desert Town, Nevada.

I dial her office. “Aleta, have I got a deal for you.”

“What?” She sounds skeptical.

I’m hoping my rank as her former boss holds clout. “How about you take Nevada, I’ll take New York?” Decisive. Bold. One would think I’m still in charge.

She laughs in my ear. “Are you kidding me? I have tickets to a Broadway show.”

“Come on.” I’m not above begging. “Do your old boss a favor.”

“Okay.”

My heart lightens. “Great.”

“But you have to give me your BMW.”

I slap the receiver to the cradle. I dial Mick next. His Portland trip fits my schedule just perfectly. He answers, “I’ll do it for your Beemer. And you have to have dinner with me.”

“Not in a million years.”

Mick was my last option. I’m stuck. I exit the schedule. Life on the road is bad enough, but life in one-horse towns is pure torture.

I have the urge to vent. I check the time. Five-thirty. The Single Saved Sisters are gathering tonight and I’m ready to unload.





Chapter Ten




With the workday technically over, I launch Monster.com and create an account. No harm in posting my résumé, right? And where’s Peyton Danner’s card? I dig in my laptop bag for her card.

A light knock outside my door interrupts my Monster mission. “Yes?” I look up, dropping Peyton’s card next to my laptop.

A handsome phone guy stands in my doorway. I sit up straight, minimize the Web page and toss my hair over my shoulder. I hope I look beautiful despite feeling rather obtuse.

“Excuse me, but I need to check your phone.” He steps into my office.

“Please, do.” I shove my phone to the edge of the desk. He’s really handsome. A manly man. Like a young Viggo Mortensen.

I go back to my computer and launch the Monster page, create an account and watch Phone Guy in my peripheral vision. He looks familiar. Wouldn’t that be the corniest line of all time? Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?

With a click of this and switch of that, he finishes whatever business he had with my phone. “All set.”

Already? Macy, hurry. Think of something to say. “Have we met?” I blurt out. Blah! Not cool. Too desperate.

“You were at Beka and Rick Gainer’s wedding.” He shifts his attention from the phone to me for a second.

Of course. “We ran into each other in the buffet line.” I recall. “I spilled punch on your meatballs.” I laugh.

He flashes a shy smile before turning to his toolbox. “I suppose you did.”

“Right.” Not how I want him to remember me. The punch slosher.

“It was nice seeing you again.” He lingers for a moment. Is he waiting for me to do something, say something?

“So, the phone’s all set?”

“All set.”

“Are you sure?”

He chuckles. “Positive.”

Okay, so I insult the man’s integrity and work ethic. That’s not worse than dousing his food with red punch, is it? Of course it is.

“Can I go?”

I sink down to my chair. “Sure. Thanks for…fixing my phone.

He disappears into the hall. I slap my hand to my forehead. Brilliant, Mace.



An hour later the phone rings.

“Macy Moore.”

“Macy, it’s Beka Gainer.” Her voice is airy and sweet, like always.

I sit forward. “Beka, hello.” Odd that she’s calling so soon after Phone Guy left my office. “How are things at the law offices of Gainer & Gainer?”

“Pretty good for newlyweds going into practice together.”