Breene, K F - Growing Pains 01 (26 page)

At one point in the
hour-and–a-half-long drive she came to realize a limo ride sucked without
tunes, and reached up to the console above her head to flick on her favorite
station. It wasn’t until she noticed the entire limo looking at her that she
remembered this was a work function, and Sean had been talking.

“Oops,” she half-shrugged with an
apologetic grin at five astonished faces. Well, four astonished faces. One was
frustrated and mostly angry.

She smiled sheepishly and turned
the thing off, but for some reason, “My bad,” didn’t erase Sean’s look of
death. He might have been under the impression she wasn’t paying attention.

All too soon they arrived and were
immediately thrust into the social work-world of Monica’s devising, which,
being honest, she fit into perfectly. She twittered and moved around the crowd,
touching men’s arms and laughing constantly. She was a social butterfly in
mating season; it was gross.

Krista, in comparison, was the
bearded lady. There was a special area for people like her, but unfortunately,
she wasn’t in it. She was the nerd among cool people. The youth among adults.
The poor college student among the business elite. And like a poor college
student, she went to the bar. She knew how to fit in like a pro at the bar! Who
said she didn’t have experience?

~*~*~*~

“You made it,” John said as Sean
joined him.

“Just got here. There was more traffic
than I expected.”

“Perfect timing. Tory just arrived.
He’s without Emily.”

Sean looked around and spotted Tory
over by the list of names and seating arrangements. “That’s not a good sign.
He’ll probably try to duck out early.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Who
have you got him next to?”

Sean turned away from Tory so the
man didn’t realize he was the object of scrutiny. “Marcus. Tory doesn’t trust
either of us and there was no one else.”

“What about Judy?”

“No.”

“Monica? She is looking hot
tonight. She’s good for that sort of thing.”

“She doesn’t know the product. And
she isn’t the right sort to talk to him.”

“True. Did you bring the cute
Research girl?”

“Yes. She’s by the bar.”

John scanned the twinkling social
hub and whistled. “Wow. Nice rack.”

“She’s not one I’d pair with Tory,”
Sean said, looking the other way uncomfortably.

He could watch Krista all night. In
fact, that’s all he wanted to do. Despite the pressure of their job here
tonight, it’s all he wanted to do. Earlier in the limo, as they’d pulled up to
Krista’s house, Monica had spread her legs so her knee brushed his, trying to
focus his attention on what waited between her thighs. And two years ago that
might’ve still worked. But the second Krista’s body was silhouetted in the door
frame, sporting a sleek, glittering blue dress that showed her off as he had
never seen before, his thoughts and eyes stuck to her. Monica was pretty, sure,
but in a manufactured sort of way. Krista was different. She was real. Too good
for a guy like him. Too pure.

And if that would stop him trying
for her, he’d truly be a changed man. He was more mature now, but he still had
the arrogance of youth. He just wished he had a few tricks up his sleeve that
she’d buy. She was a magician’s worst nightmare.

All that aside, he had an important
job to do tonight, and he didn’t want, or need, the distraction. Tonight wasn’t
about girls, no matter how pretty. No matter how intriguing. Sean was nervous
and excited both. This was a true challenge. Tory was a smart, business-savvy
executive at the height of his career, sitting on the empire he basically
built. To land him tonight meant Sean was well on his way. It meant the Junior
VP position was all but his.

“Speaking of Tory …” John said,
interrupting Sean’s thoughts.

Tory was making his way to the bar.
To the open spot right next to Krista, which happened to be the only place
available.

“Doesn’t matter the man, we all
like to look,” John said in that creepy way he had become known for.

“Maybe I’ll head over,” Sean said
in a tight voice. He didn’t want Krista speaking with Tory. She was too honest
and he was too shrewd. It’d be over before it’d even begun.

“Leave her for a minute. Tory will
know something’s up if you sprint in now. By the look of her, she doesn’t know
who he is.”

“Scotch on the rocks.”

Krista glanced to her right when
she heard the smoker’s voice and saw a man in an expensive suit in his late
forties or early fifties. Remembering that she was supposed to mingle, she
turned her head in his direction. Then, not knowing what to say, hesitated with
her mouth open.

“Are you all right?”

She recognized the look of concern
in the man’s eyes, which probably had something to do with her looking skyward,
mouth open, thinking.

She laughed stupidly. “I’m an idiot,
sorry. I was trying to think of a way to be chatty.”

“To be chatty?” He turned back to
the bar.

So did she, “Yeah, you know,
sociable.”

“It doesn’t sound like you work in
PR.”

Krista laughed again. “No. Not even
close. Research. They don’t let us out much.”

“Then why are you here? If you
don’t mind my asking.”

Million-dollar question. Krista
didn’t know who this guy was, but based on the fact that she was left alone
without one of her team rushing over to save her, she figured he wasn’t anyone
too important. Still, she had to stick to the same story with everyone, so she
hedged.

“I did well in a presentation. This
is my gold star. Well…that, and my boss didn’t want to come. I don’t think he
likes these things much.”

“I don’t blame him. Were you not
permitted to bring a date?”

“Personal question,” Krista
mumbled.

The man next to her looked over.
Krista realized he’d heard.

“Sorry,” she said to her drink,
trying to be polite but not really meaning it. “Often times it isn’t wise to
point out that a single girl is alone at a function.”

The man next to her turned toward
her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—“

She waved him away and looked out
at the people mill-and-flocking around. Some might also call it socializing.

“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t
really apply in this situation anyway. Long story short, I didn’t know if we
could bring a date or not because I didn’t ask. I didn’t really want to bring
the man I’m seeing. Plus, it’s kind of like a wedding—if you bring someone no
one else knows, then you have to babysit. I hate bringing a date to weddings.”

“But you are at the bar alone.”

“Yup. Hindsight.”

The man next to her snorted.

“Tit for tat, why are you alone?”
Krista asked, still trying to be polite and sociable. It didn’t come naturally
with strangers. On the other hand, she’d have to leave her comfy little alcove
at the bar soon, so she might as well talk to him until he wandered away or
Sean would be irritated she wasn’t being a stupid social butterfly like Monica.

“My wife didn’t want to come, and
unfortunately for me, she had a better excuse.”

“Had to wash her hair?”

The man laughed a smoker’s huff. He
must have smoked for a good few years before he gave it up. He was older, late
fifties, but no plastic surgery unlike many of the big-shot execs at this weird
fundraiser. This guy was down-to-earth and had the buds of being interesting.
He didn’t seem like he belonged. She knew how he felt.

“She claimed she was sick,” he
replied, leaning against the bar. “Probably wanted to do a girls’ night.”

“Don’t blame her. I was really
stoked about coming because I haven’t been to
Napa
yet, but I am having a hard time relaxing.”

“I agree with you.”

Krista looked out at the sea of
people again and saw Monica making her way over with Sean in tow.

“I should go. Research has a stigma
for being anti-social—I don’t want to prove everyone wrong.”

“It was nice speaking with you.”

Krista nodded, desperate to be out
of the fearsome duo’s way. Unfortunately, since she was blocked in by rich old
geezers and couldn’t sprint away fast enough, she got trapped by slut and
sluttier.

Sean was looking at Krista in a
penetrating gaze. He didn’t look happy. Monica was looking at her, too, but
more in a, “Get lost, this is my man” sort of way that gave Krista the
heebie-jeebies.

“Hey guys,” Krista said to the
pair. “I was just heading out to...talk to people. It’s a really great party,
Monica.”

“Sure Kristie, thanks,” Monica
responded, dismissing her and smiling for the man with the smoker’s voice.

Krista hesitated with that little
slip. The twit absolutely knew her name! She was being an a-hole on purpose,
and Krista got the mad desire to punch her in her face. Fortunately for the
clown, Sean was in the way and Krista didn’t want to ruin her dress. Still--
Whore.

“Okay, then…” Krista said, inching away.
The man spared her a glance, and then turned back to the bar, ignoring Sean and
Monica.

Sean looked miffed.

Krista slowly wandered around,
smile always present, and marveled at her surroundings. The winery, in a word,
was splendid. It was everything one could imagine from a
Napa
Valley
winery. It was stately and
elegant with neatly rounded bushes, walkways clear and pristine, and flowers of
all shapes and varieties blooming on the vast expanse of lawn around the
grounds.

Boring work-type people were gathered
in an outdoor dining area lit with small, twinkling lights. The tables were all
dressed with large centerpieces and white table linens. It was like a fairy
tale, and if she didn’t know better, she’d think Monica was operating some
fervent need to be a princess.

It wasn’t hard to guess who the
knight was supposed to be. But where was the dragon?

I better not be the dragon!

When the soft bells tinkled for
dinner, Krista nearly bowled over a rotund man. She was famished! The man tried
to be cross after he stopped tottering around, but she laughed at herself
good-naturedly and made an excuse about young people. He walked away shaking
his head. Sean would never invite her to one of these again!

Once in her seat she realized that
her mark was across the table behind the elaborate centerpiece. It meant she
didn’t have to talk to him. Score!

As the bread was showing up and
waiters were refilling her glass of wine, she heard, “Is this seat available?”

Krista looked up. The man from
earlier was standing beside the empty seat next to her.

She scanned the table. “I’m not
sure. I think it’s assigned seating.”

“Yes. This seat was reserved for
Jamie Edwards, who is currently in
Omaha
.”

“
Omaha
?
What would possess a person to go to
Omaha
?”

The man sat down, immediately
moving his hands so a waiter could pour him a glass of wine. “Work. He’s
opening a new branch.”

“Huh.”

“I see that you are in a better
mood?” The man took a slice of bread.

Krista passed the butter his way,
“I am in a better mood; food’s coming. I was getting really hungry there for a
minute,” Krista admitted. “I nearly knocked over some high-dollar guest in my
panic for some bread.”

The man laughed. “My name’s Tory,
by the way.”

“Krista,” she shook his hand
briefly.

“I’m sorry—Krista? I thought I
heard Kristie?”

Stupid Monica.

“At the bar you mean?”

He nodded with a full mouth.

“Yeah. That was a little joke.”

Krista hoped she wasn’t wearing her
emotions on her sleeve, because if she was, Tory would be wondering if a
homicide would happen later that evening.

They sat in silence for a minute
before he asked, “You said you’re new to the area?”

Krista tried in a hurry to swallow
the mouthful of bread she’d just stuck in her mouth. “Yeff.”

She took a gulp of wine with a
smile. “Sorry…yes. I’m from
Seattle
.
I’ve lived in
San Francisco
for a
while, but this is my first time to
Napa
.”

“And you said you were a
researcher? Are you long out of college?”

“I am a researcher, yes. And no,
not too long. This is my first real job.”

“What was your major?”

“Statistics.”

“Oh? And are you able to apply that
knowledge to your job?”

“With my current boss, yes. He
gives me a request and stands aside. I give him more information than he knew
he wanted, and to do that I step outside the boundaries a little. I can’t do my
own field work, but I can apply the knowledge.”

“And you work for Dexico?”

“Yes.”

Krista felt like she was at a job
interview or something. Or an interrogation, which was really the same thing
with different scare tactics.

He nodded as though that made
sense, but his brows were slipping down his nose. “How do you like your job?”

“Well, it isn’t as fun as hair and
makeup, which is what I would be doing if I could make a living at it, but it’s
good for a grown-up job.”

“What was the presentation on?”

Krista didn’t see the shift of
direction coming. Usually people would ask about hair and makeup. That was why
she brought it up—it was great for small talk. But then, he wasn’t the standard
target for her small talk antics since he probably owned a yacht.

“It was on sports drinks,” she said
as she reached for her glass of wine.

“And did you find that interesting?
Personally engaging?”

It sounded an awful lot like the
ol’ coot was mocking her. He obviously didn’t miss the positive, upbeat
undertones in her answer and now he was trying to call her on it. We-ell,
little did he know, currently she liked her job, so he could suck it.

“The subject matter?” she asked,
ready to battle.

He nodded, his gaze keen.

“No, I’m not especially interested.
Although I exercise often, I don’t drink sports drinks. Too sugary. But there
is always a part of market research that I find fascinating, no matter the
subject.”

“Oh? How so?” While he was being
extremely polite and mildly interested, there was an undercurrent of suspicion
to his words.

“Well ...it’s like what we’re doing
now. We are sitting and talking about our likes and dislikes, right? With
market research, it’s a broader scale. I get to see choices people make,
whether they make them on their own or because they are goaded into it through marketing,
and a wide scale of people’s likes and dislikes. On a bad day, or a boring day,
I get to judge people. Absurd, maybe, but you’re looking at people's behavior.
It’s like I’m an anthropologist, you know? It’s pretty interesting on the
whole, regardless of the subject. That’s how I keep my sanity when I am
knee-deep in numbers.”

“Hmmm.”

A bowl of soup materialized at the
end of a waiter’s arm. The bowl barely hit the table before she had her spoon
dipped in. She moaned in delight as the savory masterpiece hit her tongue. Good
stuff!

“I see you’re wearing two tones of
jewelry. I thought that was taboo?” Tory asked out of nowhere.

Krista glanced at her hands. She
wore a gold ring and bracelets on one hand, and a silver two-ring set on the
other. Being that she needed to get more soup in her belly while it was still
hot, and also since he was dead wrong, she ignored him for a second. Finally,
ready to talk ridiculousness, she laid down her spoon and answered. “If you
will excuse me saying it, it was taboo in your day.” She smiled to ease the
blow. It was true, but throwing a jokey face made it hurt less.

Thankfully, he wasn’t offended,
“How so?”

“I shall tell you, Obi Wan. Back in
the day the jewelry was gold. That was the fashion. Gold, gold and more gold.
Silver was for people that couldn’t afford gold. Then somewhere along the line
platinum came into play. So all these women got platinum wedding sets, right?
But platinum looks like silver, gold looks gold.

“So then the poor man bought his
wife white gold because it was cheaper than platinum at the time. Not so much
anymore with the price of gold, but back then, yes. Or possibly the wife-to-be
didn’t buy into the platinum hype, but wanted to keep with fashion.

“Anyway, so then people had
platinum, white gold, and silver, which all looked the same. But then they
inherited regular gold from their parents or grandparents. And it might have
been the wrong color, but you don’t throw away jewelry, I don’t care who you
are. You might trade it, or give it to someone—like your daughter—but you don’t
chuck precious gems. So now women had all sorts of colors and types of jewelry
in their jewelry boxes. See the conundrum?”

Krista checked in on her student to
make sure he was still following. He was, and while he seemed fascinated, she
got the sneaking suspicion that it was less her words that had him enthralled,
and more the science experiment that was unfolding before his eyes. He watched
her hands as she gestured, noted when she took a sip of wine—thankfully she was
sober enough to refrain from gulping—and even glanced at her shoes. If she
didn’t know better, she’d assume the researcher had turned into the researched.
He probably wasn’t used to animated poor girls. He was probably also monitoring
his wallet at all times.

Undaunted, she forged ahead.

“So a woman is not going to take
off her wedding rings just to match jewelry—the husbands would go bonkers.
Plus, it is probably her most expensive piece, which then needs to be worn,
obviously. But then there was the gold. So it became the fashion to wear both.
Then designers started making bracelets and watches that were both, so
everything matched again. I am cheating, though. I have gold and silver because
I’m not rich and apparently don’t pick my boyfriends all that well.”

Tory stared.

“Didn’t think I’d make it to the
end of that lecture, huh?” Krista laughed, going back to her food.