Like a Charm Read online

  I smiled. “Me too.”

  “How about we set a real date for a week from Saturday? I’ll pick you up here around seven.”

  I should have said no. The last thing I needed right now was a date. But my mouth spoke of its own volition. “Sure.” The truth is, it was just a date. Caleb was hot and he thought I was beautiful. So what if we lived fifteen hours away from one another?

  Before he stepped through the door, he kissed me full on the mouth. Cupping one hand behind my neck, he pulled me to him, and electricity zinged when our lips met. My eyes shut and I saw those little sparkly things floating by as my body filled with heat. His lips were soft and he tasted like gravy.

  When he pulled away I stopped myself from groaning with disappointment.

  “I have mono.” I spurted out the words.

  He chuckled. “I know, but I couldn’t wait. Besides I’ve already had it a couple of times, so you can’t really give it to me again.”

  Stepping over the threshold, he stopped. “I don’t want to scare you, but I think that might have been the best kiss of my life.” Then he walked out.

  His comment took my breath away. All I could do was wave as he backed his truck out of the drive.

  I had no idea what was going on, but I was pretty sure I’d just kissed the man of my dreams.

  I shut the door and headed for the office. It took me a minute, as I sat down at the desk, to recognize the strange feeling that had come over me.

  I was happy. For the first time in years I had a real smile on my face and my heart was doing a little dance.

  “Geez, Kira. It was only a kiss. Get a grip.” I rolled my eyes, but I was still smiling when I logged on to my e-mail.

  * * *

  Thanksgiving Food I Like Best

  Pumpkin pie

  Yams with mini-marshmallows

  Cheesy green beans

  Soft buttered rolls

  Turkey soaked in gravy

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  There are two tragedies in life. One is not to get your heart’s desire. The other is to get it.

  MAN AND SUPERMAN

  By Shaw, George Bernard, 1856–1950

  Call #: F-SHA

  Description: 120 p.; 20cm

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are making our final descent into Atlanta. Please make sure all tray tables are secure and seatbacks are…”

  I woke to the flight attendant’s instructions. We’d been flying for about three hours and it was dark now. I’d managed to get a seat in first class, but it was by a window. Normally I can’t handle the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped on a plane like that, but with holiday travel over Thanksgiving weekend, I was lucky to even have a seat.

  I popped my neck and rolled my shoulders. The woman next to me was reading a book and we’d barely acknowledged each other. It’s funny how that works sometimes. She was dressed casually, in James jeans and a soft sweater. I’d worn the Armani suit Justin had packed for me weeks ago and the Jimmy Choos. I was overdressed for Saturday travel, but it was that or the sweatshirt and jeans I’d bought in Sweet. I decided that since I was returning to my hometown on Friday I wouldn’t bother with luggage.

  As I passed by baggage claim, it dawned on me that I’d have to get a taxi. That’s when I heard, “Kira!”

  Justin hopped up and down, waving. His curly hair had been spiked and he was wearing low-riders with a long-sleeved black T-shirt. Every time he raised his arm he showed a corner of his perfectly tanned and well-honed abs. I’d missed the boy.

  Pushing through the swarm of travelers, I nearly ran into his arms.

  “I missed you,” I warbled against his chest.

  He squeezed me tight. “I missed you too. I brought someone to see you.”

  Behind Justin was Rob, his lover of three months. The longest relationship he’d ever had. A little older than Justin, Rob was in his early thirties. “Hey, doll.” Rob reached to hug me.

  “Oh, you guys are so sweet to come and get me. I was just wondering how I would get home.”

  Justin looked puzzled. “As if we’d let you take a taxi. Please. Besides, we want to help you put together your interview suits.”

  Rob smiled. “Justin wanted to help you. I’m going to make you dinner.”

  I smiled at them. “I love you guys.”

  An hour later we were in my condo, with half of my closet on the bed. I’d given up trying to have any say in my wardrobe for the week, as Justin considered himself my personal stylist.

  Rob was in the kitchen making California and spicy tuna rolls. I wasn’t sure Justin had any idea how much that man adored him, but I hoped he figured it out soon. If Rob were straight, I’d snatch him up in a second.

  “For Bianco, Kant, and Reeves, you should do the black Armani Collezioni wool suit with the pants. They are a little more progressive than some of the other firms, but you definitely want the sophisticated hot look.

  “Now for Kelo Corp. I’d go with the St. John space-dyed suit in gray. You look good in that one, and they are a little bit more uptight.”

  I sat on the chaise at the end of the bed and listened.

  “Now for shoes. The Prada square heels will be great for the Armani, but you need something sassy with St. John. Hmmm.” He tapped his forefinger against his chin. “I think these Versace quilted pumps will be perfect.” He sighed. “That will get you through Monday.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the interviews were an hour and a half apart and there wouldn’t be time to change. I’d most likely wear the Armani because it was safe, but I did love the Versace pumps, so I might do those instead of the Choos I’d normally wear.

  “Sushi is ready,” Rob called from the kitchen.

  He’d set my dining room table with candles and long, rectangular plates with sushi lined up like little soldiers on each one. Black plastic chopsticks angled across the geometric dinnerware, and he’d even done an arrangement of white roses in a low fishbowl.

  “This is wonderful.” I walked around to hug him.

  He shrugged. “Justin told me how sick you were when you left and we’ve decided to make you take better care of yourself. That means at least one real meal a day with plates and everything.”

  “You guys are the best.”

  “So…you haven’t talked much about your trip home.” Justin picked up a California roll. “How did it go?”

  I looked down at the table. “Well, there were some good things and some bad things. Remember me telling you about Mrs. Canard, and how she kind of helped me through my formative years?”

  “Yes,” Justin answered.

  “She…she passed away on Thursday.” I couldn’t talk about it. The hurt was still very close to my heart.

  Justin jumped up and hugged me. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved her.”

  I managed to keep the tears from overflowing. “I’m going back on Friday for her memorial service. I was with her when she died. It was…tough.”

  He nodded.

  Rob reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Wow, you really have been through it.”

  I took a deep, steadying breath.

  I grabbed a roll and dipped it in the soy and wasabi I’d mixed together. “I also sort of met a guy.”

  Justin, who had sat back down, nearly choked. “What did you say?”

  “Don’t freak out. He’s just a guy I met back home.” I smiled. “Who, oh my God, is hotter than any man has a right to be.”

  The men laughed.

  “He must be something for your cheeks to go all pink like that.” Rob gestured at my face.

  I put my hands on my cheeks. “He does get the blood flowing.” I sighed. “But he’s a thousand miles away and I’m”—I waved a hand around—“here. We have a date next Saturday.”

  Justin laughed out loud. “You know, a long-distance relationship might work for you. He wouldn’t care that you spend eighteen hours a day at the office.”

  I
’d been thinking about that, though I wasn’t exactly ready to articulate it. I didn’t want to ever make my life all about work again. In a way I felt betrayed. I had thought if I worked hard and dedicated myself to the job it would pay off.

  And it did in a way. I had more money than I’d ever imagined possible, but when it came down to it, the company had tossed me aside as if I were nothing. They didn’t care about the thousands of hours I’d given them. I wouldn’t do that again. I was young, and I’d been hiding behind my job.

  “So how are things at the office?” I ventured. I didn’t want this to be a weird thing between Justin and myself. He’d avoided talking about the office all night, and I knew it was on purpose.

  “Same old crap.” He stared down at his plate.

  “Who did they stick you with?”

  He shrugged. “The Bitch.”

  I gasped. The Bitch was Nancy Tucker, a senior vice president who was known for cutting off heads with a single command of her voice.

  “I’m so sorry.” My heart went out to him. The guy talked a good game, but he was a tender soul.

  Justin leaned back in his chair. “It’s not as bad as you might think.”

  “You don’t have to pretend with me. I’ve worked with her on a couple of deals; I know how she treats her employees.”

  He suddenly looked guilty. “No, I mean after what happened with Melinda and then you, she’s sort of taken me under her wing. Oh sure, she rants, but at everyone around me. She’s so nice to me it’s creepy. The third day I was there I found an error in one of the legal briefs one of the other lawyers had given her, and she gave me a pay bump. I’d been so afraid to tell her, but she liked that I spoke up. She says everyone else kisses her ass because she’s a bitch, and she liked me because I didn’t do it.”

  “Wow! Well, I guess that’s good, right?”

  “It’s not the same as when you were there. The fun has gone out of the job, but it’s okay while I’m looking for something else.”

  I nodded. “You tamed the wild beast. I’m so impressed.”

  “Well, after putting up with your persnickety self the last two years, I’ve learned a few things about dealing with tough women.”

  I threw my napkin at him. “That you have, my friend. Let me know if you need reference letters. I’m also happy to call in a few favors.”

  “We’ll see how things pan out over the next few weeks. Our favorite headhunter, Cynthia, is doing some work for me too.”

  “Excellent.” I yawned. Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was barely ten. “Man, I’m getting old.”

  “You need your rest.” Rob stacked the plates on the table. “Let’s get things cleaned up, Justin.”

  “No. You guys took care of me, and I’ll get the dishes. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I won’t hear of it,” Rob said. “You go take a nice hot bath. By the time you’re finished we’ll have things cleaned up and we’ll be out of here.”

  I kissed them both on the top of their heads. “You really are wonderful.”

  I whispered to Justin, “Hold on to this one.” My friend hadn’t had much more luck with men than I had in the last few years…though he’d certainly dated more.

  Justin grinned and kissed my cheek when I bent down for a hug.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind about the dishes?” I asked one more time.

  Rob gave me a mean look. I held up my hands and ran for the bathroom.

  When I bought the condo I had paid special attention to the renovations in the bathroom. The large round tub had jets that beat the tension out of a body, as did the multi-jet shower.

  I poured vanilla bath oil into the hot water as it filled the tub. I knew I should feel guilty about leaving guests to clean up, but it was Rob and Justin. They were more like family.

  A half hour later I was a prune. I wrapped up in my favorite robe and peeked out of the bedroom. The guys were gone. I walked to the windows looking out onto the city of Atlanta.

  Even after the long soak, I felt antsy. I chalked it up to the interviews the next morning, but there was one thing that always soothed my nerves.

  I sat down at my small baby grand. It was another of my impulse buys, but I used it all the time. One thing we always had around our trailer was music. My parents were passionate about it. My dad had an electronic keyboard, and by the time I was six I could play piano concertos from the adult lesson books I borrowed from the library.

  As my fingers slid across the keys my thoughts drifted back to earlier in the evening. Even though I’d lost my job, I still had everything I’d ever wanted—the cars, the beautifully decorated home, and money. I’d made so much money the last few years with my investments I didn’t have to go back to work at all if I didn’t want to. Ever. I had choices.

  I looked around at my living area. The perfect couch in soft blue faced the bank of windows. The chocolate walls were warm with the silver mirrors and picture frames. The modern art I’d acquired over the last two years was hung perfectly.

  None of it made me happy. Not in a jaded, I-have-everything-I-want way. I took stock of what I’d thought I’d wanted all these years and realized it was crap. These were just things, and while I liked having them around, they didn’t make me happy.

  I could walk away from it tomorrow, all of these things I thought so important, and I wouldn’t care. My problem was I didn’t understand why I felt this way all of a sudden.

  Maybe it was time to make the move to New York. I’d talked about it since my first year at Zeb Corp. For the first time in my life there wasn’t a five-year plan, and I didn’t like it.

  I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin.

  The temperature dropped in the apartment. Pulling the robe tighter around me, I went to check the thermostat. Everything was fine.

  I’m just tired. It’s been a long day and I’ll feel better when I wake up in the morning. Please, God. I need to feel better.

  * * *

  Reasons I Hate Job Interviews

  Snap judgments

  Inane questions

  Self-important interviewers

  Small talk

  Sickening nerves

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  You can hire logic, in the shape of a lawyer, to prove anything that you want to prove.

  THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE

  By Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 1809–1894

  Call #: F-HOL

  Description: 300 p.

  My first meeting was at nine thirty. I still had that feeling of not caring about anything. I simply didn’t want to be in Atlanta, and I really didn’t want to go on job interviews.

  I had a horrible urge to call and cancel the entire week, but I forced myself to walk out the door.

  That’s probably why the meetings were so successful.

  Five months ago I would have been a barracuda going into those interviews. I would have said, “This is what I can do for you,” and set out spreadsheets. I would have laughed at their jokes and made intelligent small talk.

  On this particular day I felt like they were lucky I showed up at all. I answered questions and I was professional, but I was far from the barracuda.

  These guys were used to people kissing up in a major way. I wasn’t in the mood. Over the past two years I’d put together contracts for my company that made them billions of dollars. They either wanted me or they didn’t.

  They’d done their homework. They knew about what happened with Melinda Jackson and my involvement in her case. They knew why Zeb Corp. had let me go, and yet they still wanted me.

  Greed. There is no other reason. There were offers that came with large sums of money and even relocation to New York City.

  I told them all the same thing: “I’ll take the offer under consideration and let you know in a few weeks.” I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I had no plan, and I wasn’t about to make any decisions without a solid one.

  The interviewers must have thought their offers
weren’t good enough.

  “Kira, I hope you understand that this is only a preliminary offer. We want to make sure you’re happy,” said Mr. Grayson at the first firm.

  “Oh, it’s more than generous.” I smiled. “I just need some time to make certain I do what’s best. I’m sure you understand.” I stood and reached out my hand. He shook it, his mouth agape. “Thank you again for meeting with me this morning.” I picked up my briefcase and left Mr. Grayson stuttering behind me.

  “But surely we can come to some kind of terms?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll let you know.”

  After I did the same thing at the next meeting I knew something was wrong with me. I called Sam. It took a few minutes for him to get to the phone.

  “Hello?” He sounded rushed.

  “Sam, I’m losing my mind,” I whispered into the phone. I was walking down Peachtree Street to my next appointment a few buildings over. The weather had turned chilly and my breath made wafting clouds.

  “Kira?” He paused. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I’m having this weird feeling. Really it’s no feeling. All of a sudden I don’t care about anything.” I caught myself waving my hand in the air as I passed a window and stopped. “I was offered the job of a lifetime. The job I’ve dreamed about since I entered law school, and I told them I’d think about it. What’s wrong with me?”

  He cleared his throat. “First, take a deep breath and let it out.”

  I did what he asked.

  “Hold on one sec so I can make it back to my office. I’m in the reception area.” He put me on hold and I waited.

  I glanced at my watch. I only had another twenty minutes before my next appointment.

  “So the job interviews are going well?” He came back on the line.

  “Exceptionally well. But last night…I don’t know. I was in my apartment. It’s a place I’ve loved and I just didn’t want to be there. I don’t want to be here—in Atlanta.” I could hear hysteria creeping into my voice.