Fighting for You (20 page)
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BETTING ON YOU
Available from InterMix January 2014
Mia Gentry walked through the glass doors in the lobby of the Danvers International building while singing to the music piping through her earbuds. At twenty-eight, she supposed she should feel like some dirty old lady for listening to Justin Bieber, but she loved his music. She stuck the foot of her hot-pink pump in the door of the elevator to hold it. Suzy and her husband, Gray, were standing just inside the door as she made her way inside. God, she felt like such a frump standing next to her fashion idol and her
GQ
man. She wondered idly if they were into threesomes. She had never tried that, but she had a bit of a girl-crush on Suzy, and Gray was smoking hot. Yeah, she wouldn’t think twice if they asked her. She smiled and muttered “Morning,” as the doors closed.
Oh my god, he had his hand on her ass.
That was it for Mia. Any man confident enough to feel up his wife in a corporate America elevator was the total shit as far as she was concerned. She knew she had just found some new material for the session with her battery-operated boyfriend tonight. Suzy and Gray stepped out on the fourth floor and as the doors were closing, Suzy flashed her a grin saying, “I love your shoes.” Luckily for Mia, she managed to contain her squeal until the elevator was moving again. Yeah, this day was looking up. Her fortune cookie from last night was right: good things do come to those who wait.
She stepped off at the sixth floor into the hub of the Installation and Support department for Danvers International. This place was heaven for a geek such as herself. She had worked there for three years now and loved every minute of it. She had started out doing customer support and eventually moved up to site installation. She supervised a crew of ten people, and depending upon the job, some or all of them traveled to each site. Although, when she had moved into management, she had given up a lot of the travel that once had been required. She now went onsite for only a few days for the larger jobs or to fill in as necessary.
She grabbed a cup of coffee from the break room on her way to her corner office. Her space was small, but she treasured the window with the view of downtown Myrtle Beach. It was a big upgrade from her starter cubicle in the cube-farm down the hall. Just as she was running through the emails that had accumulated since yesterday, her boss, Hank, walked in and sank down in the chair in front of her desk.
“How’s it going, kid?”
She smiled at his standard greeting. Hank was in his forties and saw everyone around him as his kids. He had a thick mane of gray hair and if she squinted just right, he reminded her of Richard Gere. He had more than a few admirers in the office, both male and female, so apparently everyone else agreed with her assessment of his looks. “It’s going, no problems to speak of.”
Hank shook his head, giving her a rueful smile before saying, “Well, I’m about to mess that up for you. I know you’ve got half of your crew in Alabama this week, and Nikki is out with her . . . um . . . lady problem, but I’ve got a local install that just came through and it’s VIP.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “First of all, Nikki just had a baby; how is that a ‘lady problem?’ And secondly, who’s the local VIP? Unless we’re talking about something for the city, it should only require a couple of technicians, tops.”
“You know the Oceanix Resort?” Mia nodded even though it wasn’t really a question. Most locals could never afford to stay there but everyone still knew of the Oceanix Resort. It was high-end luxury. She would never voluntarily admit that she had been there to her coworkers, but she suspected that Hank knew she might be familiar with the resort. “They’re replacing their entire system with ours and the Myrtle Beach location is to be the first install. If things go well, the other nine locations will be next. The catch is they want to start on Monday, which means that the preliminary work needs to be laid out this week. Since you’d normally send Nikki on a local job, that leaves you, kid. This needs to go off without a hitch so we can’t send some wet-behind-the-ears newbie and besides, those are your people, aren’t they?”
Indeed they had been at one time. You didn’t grow up as the only child of Jefferson and Madeline Gentry without rubbing elbows with some of the privileged elite. Her parents were what you would call “old money.” If there had ever been a poor Gentry in the family tree, it was too far back to be found. She had bowed to parental pressure and attended an Ivy League college, which was probably why Hank suspected that she was from money. After she graduated, she had started to pull away from the crowd she had grown up with. The pressure to fit in had long ago gotten old and she had been eager to experience life without a constant safety net under her.
Of course, her parents had been less than thrilled with her choices. She would have thought her computer science degree would have tipped them off, but apparently they just assumed she had spent four years in college to study a hobby. When she moved out of her gated childhood home in a posh oceanfront section of Garden City Beach, they had been quite vocal in their disapproval. She had struck a compromise with them and had moved into a condominium that her father owned in nearby Surfside Beach. She wanted to hate it, but truthfully she loved her two-bedroom home right on the ocean. It was a small twelve-unit building and even though she was well paid at Danvers, it would have been out of her price range.
She rarely saw any of her childhood friends anymore. Most of them just didn’t understand her these days. As was often the case, they had all moved on. She had new friends now, such as her good friend and coworker, Nikki, who was currently on maternity leave and had named Mia the godmother of her first child. Indeed, life was different, but much better now. Her parents might never understand her, but she hoped in some tiny way they respected her need to make it on her own.
Hank snapping his fingers jerked her from her trip down memory lane and back to the present.
Damn, what was his question again? Oh yeah, her people, hmmm, how to answer that?
“I don’t know about that. I’m not familiar with the owner or owners.”
He grinned, obviously amused with her efforts to sidestep his question. “Have you ever been inside the Oceanix Resort?”
Well shit, he had her there and he knew it.
“Er . . . a few times. They have a good Sunday brunch.”
“Whew, I can only imagine how much a meal in that place would set you back.” Without waiting for an answer, he continued on. “So, at least you’re familiar with it. Bullshit aside, Merimon asked that we send you.”
Mia’s heart stuttered. Oh my God, Gray Merimon knew she existed? Maybe that threesome idea wasn’t all in her head. “Wow, okay. If Gray asked for me.” Before she could start mentally picking out lingerie, Hank busted her bubble.
“Gray? No, the other one, Nick. He handled the contract and requested the team leader. He even mentioned you by name.”
Talk about having the rug pulled out from under you. It wasn’t that she didn’t find Nick attractive; he was delish. His fiancée, Beth, was hot as well, but she was pregnant. It seemed wrong to have a fantasy about someone knocked up. Oh well, it was probably for the best. She would just continue to admire her idol from afar. “Yeah, I’ll head on over there this morning and get everything started. Who do I need to ask for?”
Hank pulled some paperwork from his shirt pocket and handed it over to her. “Seth Jackson is your contact. He also indicated that you can speak with someone named Margie if he isn’t in.” Then Hank’s name was paged for a call and he left her office with a curse.
Mia spent the next hour answering emails and returning calls. She packed a bag with her iPad and a notebook to jot down some quick notes. She stopped off at the restroom to survey her reflection before she left. She had dressed a bit casually for a customer visit, but it would have to suffice. She was wearing black skinny pants, with her high-heeled pink pumps and a matching pink-and-white striped top. Her wavy brown hair was styled in the usual intentionally messy look, and her makeup consisted of pink blusher and a sheer lipstick. Yeah, it would have to do. She seldom spent a lot of time with management in the preliminary stages anyway.
Sydney Landon
is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Danvers series. She lives in South Carolina with her husband and two children, who keep life interesting and borderline insane, but never boring. When she isn’t writing, Sydney enjoys reading, swimming and being a mini-van driving soccer mom. Local bookstore: Books a Million, Greenville and B&N, Greenville.
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