For Kicks (22 page)

We?
“Of course.” The world began to spin and she felt herself propelled into the office on autopilot. Inside the room sat Nancy next to the telephone, the red light in the base indicating a conference call.

“Michael and Judy, she’s here.” Nancy eyed Breeze as she sat down. Her store and district managers in the room, the regional vice president and vice president of stores on the phone. Whatever the reason for this ambush, it was big.

Silence echoed through the room. The hum from the air-conditioning vents mingled with the buzz of the fluorescent lights. She cupped her hands on her lap to keep them from shaking and took a deep breath.

“I’m not sure what’s going on.” She spoke slowly to keep her voice level. “Is something wrong with the Kicks promotion?”

“Kicks sales are great, better than projected,” Michael replied. “Mendelssohn’s appreciates all you did to make the campaign a success.”

Breeze breathed a sigh of relief and let her shoulders drop. Nancy must be jealous, hence her sour demeanor. Maybe things were going to go better than she’d hoped.

“I wanted to make sure you understand our position, and discuss where we go from here. Judy thinks your performance warrants a promotion to the store-manager level. However, Nancy has some concerns I think we all need to discuss.”

Breeze smiled over the fear of being found out. She’d done it, become the youngest store manager in Mendelssohn’s history. Nancy could bring on her concerns. Breeze knew every argument against ageism by heart.

“What kind of concerns?” she asked, meeting Nancy’s icy stare.

“Regarding your behavior during the Kicks promotion.” Nancy’s tone was lilting and accusatory.

“There are a few misunderstandings I hope you’ll be able to clear up,” Judy offered across the line.

“How long have you known Logan Chandler?” Nancy narrowed her eyes.

“Since the day of the best set.” Her stomach sank.

“I have some questions about your expenses while you were away.” Nancy’s voice rang as she leaned back in her chair.

“And?” Breeze prompted in the silence. If a hotel made some bogus charges on her card, she could clear that up with a phone call.

“Breeze, what happened in Kentucky?”

The air was quickly sucked from the room, the edges beginning to blur. Just what were they accusing her of? What did they know already?

“I toured with the district manager who came up with the idea to focus the training on the footwear department managers. Seven stores. Two days.”

“When I reviewed your expenses, I noticed you had no hotel charges for Kentucky.” Nancy tented her fingers, almost smiling. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that was the weekend you met with Logan Chandler. Do you think staying with him was appropriate, Breeze?”

Panic coursed through her veins, yet she schooled her expression, quieted the adolescent voices chanting “Sleezy Breezy” in her head. These people might never respect her again, but she wasn’t the seventeen-year-old who ran from accusations.

“Absolutely, it was completely appropriate. Nitrous policy actually.” The confident sound of her voice calmed her. “It was a suite with two bedrooms and a living area for us to meet in and discuss the status of the project. It made more sense than meeting in either of our hotel rooms, or renting a separate conference room.” She’d been suspicious of the argument from Logan, but it was the truth. Nancy rolled her eyes, obviously not buying the explanation.

“When you travel for Mendelssohn’s, you represent the company.” Michael cleared his throat. “We want to make sure our business is represented professionally at all times.”

“Of course,” Breeze answered with a nod.

Nancy squared her shoulders. “And what about the launch party?”

“What about it?” She forced a smile. Nancy wasn’t there, couldn’t know anything Judy hadn’t told her.

“Did you share a room with Logan there as well?”

“No, I flew out after the party. I’m not sure what you are getting at.” Breeze wanted to throw something, to yell. The bitch was jealous, plain as the crooked nose on her ruddy face. But to attack her professionally? To try and take away the promotion she’d worked so hard to earn? “By all accounts I did a great job with the Kicks roll out. I don’t see how any of this has any bearing on my performance.”

“You don’t see how creating an emergency for the company with your boyfriend cost this company thousands of dollars?” Nancy shrieked, slamming her fist against the desk.

“Excuse me?”

Michael cleared his throat. “We’re just trying to get to the truth, Breeze. There’s concern this situation may have been elevated because of your relationship.”

“Does anyone think we were ready for the Kicks promotion?” Turns out you could grow up, but high-school drama followed you everywhere. She grasped the arms of the chair until her knuckles were white hot.

“Did you tell Logan that before he came to the best set?” Nancy sneered.

“How could I? I’d never met him before that day, Nancy.”

There was nothing more she dared say. They didn’t believe her. But they couldn’t prove she’d done anything wrong either. Not without risking a lawsuit and more bad publicity than they could afford.

Nancy sat across from the desk, arms folded across her wide chest, glaring down her uneven nose. Breeze’s professional reputation lay shattered before her. She didn’t know which way to move without being sliced to pieces by the shards. If she told them her personal life was none of their business it was tantamount to admitting guilt. If she kept insisting her innocence, she sounded pathetic.

“Where do we go from here?” Breeze asked the air.

“I think under the circumstances it is best if you moved out of the district, separated yourself from the Nitrous incident.” Michael cleared his throat before continuing. Nancy smirked, snapping the folder in front of her shut. “There aren’t any openings currently, however—”

“Are you trying to fire me based on conjecture and innuendo?” Breeze twisted in her seat, deciding to go for broke. She’d been in every district in the company. She could list three open store management positions, twice as many assistant openings.

“No, of course not,” Judy said. “We think it would be best for you to start over in another district. We have two store managers set to take maternity leave soon. One in Texas, the other in Illinois. It will give you a chance to start over.”

“I think before we discuss this further I should contact John DeSalvo.” The name of the attorney who’d negotiated her grandmother’s settlement raised Nancy’s thick eyebrows. Breeze stood, willing her legs not to shake. “I have ten comp days coming from my time on the Kicks project. Maybe we all need to step back and think about my future with this company.”

Breeze nodded curtly and stepped from the room. She turned into her office, intending to collect her personal belongings. But there were none.

“I think this is what you’re looking for.” She turned to find Nancy behind her, a lidded document box in hand. “You should take Judy up on her offer to fill in.”

“Why? Because it will spare your job?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. You did.”

“We’ll see how corporate feels about you after my lawyer gets through with them.” Breeze tugged the box away and sashayed out of the store not allowing a single tear to fall until she hit the freeway.

By the time she got home she’d found the anger again, and displayed it as soon as John DeSalvo returned her call. He calmed her as best he could, promising a settlement and reminding her she was young and could work anywhere.

But she didn’t want to be anywhere. Right now she wanted to be home.

The only thing she wanted to take with her, but couldn’t, was the fish. They’d have to settle for the plants she’d bought and the promise she’d be back before they ran out of food. She thought of calling the fish guy and arranging for him to feed them, but she didn’t have a spare key. Logan had that.

The invoice from the fish guy had Logan’s address for billing. He lived south of town, not far from her store. She wanted to call and have the billing info changed, but instead folded the invoice and slipped it into her purse. If she was gone too long, she could have the fish guy pick up the key from him. Get her key back without even having to speak to Logan.

The five-hour drive to her parents’ house lay before her, giving her way too much time to think. Attention she couldn’t divert with reading or knitting. Forcing her to confront things she’d never cared to look at. Like how this felt exactly the same as when she’d made the trip in reverse.

She’d loved her mother so much she’d wanted to copy her life. Marry the first man she was with and fill a home with babies and love. But that had shattered when the man she thought shared the dream had turned out to be nothing but a boy.

She’d followed her other example, her hard-working, successful grandmother, mirroring her life and career. But that had exploded in just the same way.

She didn’t know of another way to live, to be happy and fulfilled. Though she realized neither way of life had ever given her true satisfaction. What she needed was something to keep her from remembering the stolen moments when she had been happy, satisfied. But there were no distractions here.

It was just her, the open road, a cell phone Logan insisted on calling every hour, and a radio determined to play every sappy love song ever recorded.

Each new verse made her think differently about the relationship. Had her recalling moments she didn’t know she even remembered. Like how extreme her reaction had been to him smiling at a store clerk. She thought his smiles were only for her until that moment. Thinking he’d smiled at someone else had torn at her heart, but what if she’d caught them in a situation where it looked like they’d been kissing?

Chapter Fifteen

This could very well blow up in her face. Humiliate her to no end. A disgrace she’d never live down. She pulled into the driveway, killed the engine and took a deep breath. She could do this.

The house was dark, deserted, but she knew it would be. Without a key she couldn’t let herself in, so she walked around the yard to the back and opened the gate. A huge, black-bottomed pool consumed the backyard. She slipped off her sandals, stepped to the edge and dipped a toe in the warm water.

The overcast sky held in the summer heat. Soon it would be pitch black, dark and moonless as the last strands of the sunset faded away. She turned and took in the pinks and oranges over the roof of the neighbor’s house. She needed to do that more, stop and look, listen and feel. Instead of always running. She’d deluded herself into thinking she’d been running to something, towards a career instead of running from her past. But no more.

Walking over the lawn, she crossed the patio and spied the panel on the outside wall that turned on the lights. She flipped the switch, illuminating a single light by the back door, and pulled her shirt over her head.

Breeze stepped out of her shorts and thought of diving in wearing her underwear. But plain white cotton hid nothing when wet, so she shucked it. A wicked thrill coursed through her. She stood completely naked. Outside. A privacy fence, waning daylight, and no one knowing where she was protected her, but still, she drank in the excitement before walking back to the edge of the pool.

She stood at the shallow end, her hand on the bar by the steps. But she decided against going slow. No, now was a time for all or nothing. She sped to the far end and backed up, ran, jumped and cannonballed into the deep end. She surfaced with a shriek of laughter, then pushed out and tried it again.

Childish and messy, but so much fun. And she needed to have more fun, like work for a company that mandated five-day work weeks and set vacation time. The last time her cell phone had rung while she’d been in the car, she’d seen Nitrous on the display and given in.

But it hadn’t been Logan. It had been the director of US retail. She’d pulled over and had the best conversation about her career. Talking had helped her focus on what she really wanted to accomplish, not for her resume but for herself. Nitrous had even agreed to the position she’d chosen, managing the flagship Nitrous World store in downtown Portland. A huge store that tourists flocked to, with more sales floor footage than any Mendelssohn’s.

Accepting Mendelssohn’s offer would be like leaving with her tail between her legs. Rumors might be forgotten for a while, but always resurfaced at inopportune times. And moving would mean abandoning all hope of fixing things with her family, and Logan.

She flipped onto her back and kicked the length of the pool. How she’d missed having a pool. As a kid, she’d bounded out of the house each morning and gone for a swim. In the summer anyway.

“Breeze?” a voice warbled by the water. She started at the sound, hiding under the water and looking back towards the house.

Seeing Logan, she relaxed her arms. There wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t seen. And in the twilight there couldn’t be much he could make out anyway.

“Too late. I have a mental picture of it.” He stepped to the edge of the pool, toed off his Kicks and reached for the hem of his shirt. “I came home to shower because I thought you weren’t off work yet. I was going to sit on your steps until you came home.”

“Wait a minute.” Breeze treaded to a shallow spot where she could stand, only her head visible above the waterline. “We need to talk, and if you get in here we won’t be talking.”

He pulled his shirt over his head anyway, the muscles rippling as he tossed it on the grass. “I’m all for not talking. I open my mouth and become an ass.”

“No argument here. I got your message. I’d already left for Ashland, but I turned back around.” He stood still, probably trying to figure out which of the dozen messages she referred to.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never react that way again.”

“I know.” She stepped carefully to the edge of the pool, the water pulling at her body with every slow movement. “You know what it made me think of? Remember the airport when I freaked out because you smiled at someone else?”

A grin played at his lips and he nodded.

“It was because I didn’t know where we were going. If I’d been more secure I’d have handled it better.”