Love Is All Around (31 page)

When she came to the door the guard had indicated, she paused. This was it, the beginning of her new career. No more canned peas, no more punching a time clock. No more Will.

She pushed the thought aside. She had a career now and a salary to go with it. Will had Jessica and a wallet full of money from ripping of poor farmers. She pushed open the door and stepped inside.

In the center of the room sat a massive desk. Stacks of papers, magazines, and fast-food debris covered the top. Perched to the side, a tiny, bird-like woman pecked at a computer keyboard.

“Excuse me,” Patsy’s voice quavered. “Could you tell me where Ms. Masters is?”

“Patsy?” Rubbing her wrist, the woman looked up from the screen. “We’re casual around here. Call me Kelsey.”

This was her boss? For some reason, Patsy had expected someone bigger, grander, neater.

“Have you looked around yet? Made yourself at home?” Kelsey popped off her perch and began rooting through the stack on her desk. “I have a packet for you somewhere here. HR sent it up.” She continued to dig, shoving a half-eaten Whopper to the side and tossing a wadded napkin onto the floor. “Here you go.” She shook the manila folder, sending a rain of crumbs onto the rug.

After gathering the paperwork, Kelsey escorted Patsy to her pod, cubby, whatever. It wasn’t exactly what Patsy had envisioned.

“This is my desk?” She eyed the rickety black steel and pressed board monstrosity. It looked like a yard sale reject. Her dad wouldn’t even take it on consignment at his shop.

“Yeah, I know it isn’t ergonomic, but it’s the best we could do on short notice. You should be fully stocked with office supplies.” Kelsey yanked open a drawer, revealing pens, a stapler, and Wite-out.

Well, that was fine then. As long as she had a good supply of Wite-out, her world was okay. What did they expect her to do—use it to paint the screen? Patsy tapped her foot. Speaking of which, “Where’s the computer?”

“Oh, and we don’t have a computer for you yet, but there’s one in the corner interns share. Until yours gets here, you can use it.”

No computer? How was she supposed to design websites? On the wall with a tube of Cover Girl number 77? “When will mine be here?”

Kelsey, engrossed in straightening the stack of papers, ignored the question. “I hope you brought your social security card. HR will want a copy, and there’s information on health insurance here. Take your time filling it all out.”

“When will my computer be here?”

Kelsey cut her eyes to the door of the cubicle. “Ah, well, it could be any time. I just can’t say for sure. Budgets and all that.” A nervous laugh escaped. “Take your time with the papers. I’ll check on you in a half-hour.” She scurried back to her office.

Patsy plopped down in her chair and glanced around at the padded fabric walls. It had to get better than this. She rolled forward, knocking against the papers and scattering them across the floor. Staring at the white sheets dotting the floor, she thought, it had to get better than this, or she had made a massive mistake.

Chapter 19

Granny wanted to know how he was going to bring Patsy back.

How was this his fault? Will slammed another stack of lavender soaps into a box. He didn’t send her away. She’d been plotting this move long before he stepped back into her life. He’d offered her options, hadn’t he? She could have stayed here in Daisy Creek and been with him. They could have worked on DaisyGal.com together, but no, she wanted something else—maybe even someone else. He frowned at the memory of the Celt.

What else could he offer her? Slapping a strip of tape onto the carton, Will shoved it toward the door. There was nothing for her in St. Louis. Why couldn’t she see that? Even Pugnacious would be miserable.

Ralph nuzzled his palm. “You think Pugnacious is treeing pigeons, boy?”

Ralph leaned closer, forcing Will to run his hand down the dog’s back.

“She’s probably miserable. Patsy too, but she’s so stubborn she won’t admit it.” He scratched his dog’s ear. “I wish there was some way to make her see she doesn’t belong there. That she belongs here. Once she’s back in Daisy Creek, we can work out the rest, don’t you think?” Will dropped down onto the step. “Why can’t she be more like her dog?”

A box containing Dwayne’s carvings sat by Will’s foot. Flipping open the cardboard flap, he pulled out the tiny coon. He turned it over in his hand.

Coons. There weren’t coon hunts in St. Louis, at least not where, according to Granny, Patsy was.

“That’s it, boy. I may not have a pair of ruby slippers to bring her home, but maybe I can think of something just as good.” Grinning, he ruffled Ralph’s fur and headed to the computer. “C’mon. We have shopping to do.”

o0o

It had been three days—three long, boring days since Patsy had started at Sunrise. She was beginning to settle into a routine, but it was less than reassuring. Each morning she got up at six, walked Pugnacious, and got dressed. Breakfast was a cereal bar, no coffee until she got to work, which was two hours later. The drive from her apartment was not as simple as she had expected. Road construction, accidents, and pouring rain had banded together to extend her morning commute by at least forty-five minutes.

When she got home, she was too tired to do anything more than take Pugnacious for another quick jog around the block and collapse on the couch. It was amazing how sitting on your behind all day could wear a person out. Amazing and sick.

Patsy needed some excitement, something to take her mind off Daisy Creek and who she left behind; something that offered a bigger challenge than fighting the pierced Fear-Factor reject of an intern for computer time.

“Patsy, could you stop by my office around two?” Kelsey peered at her around the side of her cubby’s wall. “I have a project I want to talk to you about.”

Finally, a project. Something she could get excited about. Patsy popped out of her chair and went to do battle with the pointlessly perforated intern.

At two o’clock, she packed up her work and headed to Kelsey’s office.

“Good, you’re here.” Kelsey motioned to a chair.

Patsy kicked an empty Chicken McNugget box under the desk and sat down.

“I have the perfect project for you.” Kelsey tipped back in her chair with an accompanying squeal.

Now we were talking. Patsy edged forward.

“As you know, you’re one of the first members of our new web team.” Kelsey paused. “And since we’re starting out fresh, we want to get everything on the same page, so to speak. We have our corporate site. We hired out the design on that.” She took a sip of Mountain Dew. “Then we have the site you did and a site Lex, the intern, has been working on.”

Patsy waited.

“What we need is to get the code consistent on all of them.”

Patsy sat up a little straighter.

“You know, make sure the code is all up-to-date, capitalizations consistent, things like that.” She set the soda down, making a new wet circle on a file folder. “What I’d really like to see is a protocol, a list of how we do things here at Sunrise. After you’ve worked that up, you can put it to practice by getting the three sites to standards.”

“You want me to write a manual?” Patsy would rather eat brussels-sprout pie.

“Not a manual, really, just a protocol, a set of procedures.” Kelsey scribbled on a post-it note. “I got you set up with access this morning. Here’s your password and where the files are located. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Patsy was frozen to her seat. Spend hours searching through someone else’s code to see if they closed their paragraph tags or used comments? It was insane. Kelsey was insane.

“Is there something else?” Kelsey asked.

Groping for an excuse to weasel out of the job, Patsy said, “What about…” What was the pierced one’s name? Oh, yeah. “Lex, is he still working…”

“Oh, yes, Lex. That’s a great idea. You two have been working so well together. You should do this together. I’ll tell him as soon as we’re through.” With a satisfied smile, Kelsey swigged down the Mountain Dew.

Patsy plodded back to her cell. She had just been given life with carpal tunnel syndrome and not with the benefit of solitary confinement. No, she was paired with a kid with more holes in his face than Spongebob Squarepants.

 o0o

 “Granny sent me over with this.” Dwayne stood in Will’s doorway, a huge cardboard carton filling his arms.

“What is it?” Will was a little leery of accepting anything from Patsy’s grandmother right now. When he’d stopped by her house after his conversation with Jessica, Granny had stared him down with an intensity that would have done Clint Eastwood proud. All that was missing was the “make my day.” Will glanced from the box back to Dwayne.

“Basket stuff; she said you’d know what to do with it.” Dwayne hesitated at Will’s frown. “You know—reed, some baskets Patsy was working on, things like that.”

What was he supposed to do with half-made baskets and materials? Granny’s mind worked in an interesting way.

Dwayne bounced the box once.

Well, he couldn’t send it back to her. “Bring it in.” Will motioned toward the kitchen. After lowering the box to the floor, Dwayne watched, his hands shoved into his pockets, as Will searched through the contents.

Maybe he’d find some clue inside.

“Will...” Dwayne started.

Will pulled half a jack-o-lantern grin out and set it on the floor. What was that thing?

“Will...” Dwayne studied the toe of his worn boot.

Realizing Dwayne expected a response, Will said, “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude. I just don’t know why your grandmother thinks I should have this...” Will held up the partial pumpkin. At Dwayne’s shrug, he dropped it back in the box. “Can I get you something? It’s a little early for a beer, but I have pop or tea.”

Dwayne was already shaking his head. “I was wanting to talk to you about somethin’.”

Dwayne seemed uncharacteristically serious.

“See, things ain’t so good for me right now. The factory I work at… I’m a cutter there.” He pushed his feed cap back on his head. “The way things is looking, it’s gonna be shutting down real soon and, to be one hundred percent honest, I don’t have another job to fall back on. Now, I mean, I got the carving, thanks to you.” He nodded. “But I don’t likely think that’s going to pay the bills.” He sighed. “I was hoping maybe there was something else I could do for you. I’m not the quickest hound in the pack, but I’m honest and a hard worker.”

Dwayne’s earnest gaze held Will’s. Dwayne work for him? Doing what? Will searched his brain for an idea.

“Dwayne, I wish I had something, but I really don’t. I could maybe use some help managing the site, but...”

Dwayne didn’t let him finish. “No, I know I can’t do that. Patsy’s the smart one. I couldn’t figure all that computer stuff out.”

“Aside from that, I don’t know what I’d have for you to do.”

Dwayne pushed his cap back. “I got an idea, if you don’t mind listening to it. I’m not asking for a handout. If you don’t think this’ll work, just tell me, and I’ll be on my way.” He grinned. “And I’ll take that Coke you offered too.”

Will pulled open the Sub-Zero’s door. What kind of idea could Dwayne have for him? This should be interesting. If nothing else, working with Dwayne would keep him one step closer to Patsy. It was better than nothing—not much, but better.

o0o

Saturday, Patsy lounged in bed until eleven, something she would never have done at home. Of course, this was home now, and if she wanted to trot around the apartment all day in her Daisy Daze T-shirt and little else, she could.

Wasn’t quite the thrill she was hoping for.

She fell onto the couch and stared at her pug-faced slippers. She should be abuzz with delight. No one telling her when to get up, what to eat, or that Hulk Hogan was on the news. She sighed, clicked on the television and searched for the WWE. It wasn’t on, but an ad for one of St. Louis’ megamalls inspired her. She would go shopping. She didn’t have a lot of spare cash, but she could look.

Three hours later, she had walked twenty miles, eaten three chocolate-chip pretzels, and drank a pickle barrel’s worth of hand-squeezed lemonade. She was tired, fat, and sticky. And she hadn’t seen a single thing worth seeing. All the shops seemed to have the same interchangeable fashions, and the girls who worked in them made Ruthann and Jessica look like nuns.

Wonder what was going on in Daisy Creek? Probably not much. Ruthann should be working. She’d started her new job at the BiggeeMart last week. No more arguing with Bruce for her. That was always Patsy’s job anyway.

Granny was probably watching the WWE or jawing with Aunt Tilde. And Will? Patsy slumped onto a bench. He was probably stripping some old piece of junk Tilde hauled in, or sorting potpourri from dried thyme, or draping Jessica with pearls and roses.

Patsy shoved another bite of pretzel into her mouth. He could do what he liked. Patsy didn’t need him. She had everything she needed and wanted right here in her new home town of St. Louis.

The pretzel collided with the other three already bunched up in her stomach. Whoever thought putting chocolate chips in a pretzel was a good idea?

Groaning, she levered herself up. She needed something to take her mind off Daisy Creek and Will Barnes. She was afraid she might be getting just the teeniest bit homesick; nothing she couldn’t handle, but a diversion would be nice. It was natural, being in a new place. Even Pugnacious had seemed down lately.

That was the ticket. She’d buy something for Pug Girl, a new toy or treat. Patsy set off down the marbled halls of mercantile in search of deliverance. An hour later, she’d turned up nothing more exciting than a chew stick and catnip-stuffed ball.

Depressed she hadn’t found something more appropriate, Patsy trudged to her Jeep. She knew it was silly, but she’d wanted something special, something to make her dog and her forget about home.

Slash that, Daisy Creek. This was home now, but, a little voice whispered, it wasn’t where her heart was.

o0o

Will whistled as he boxed up the half-finished pumpkin. The Clarks were an interesting clan. They came off country and simple, watching the WWE and hunting coons, but they were a shrewd bunch. He’d thought Granny had cracked when she’d sent him Patsy’s basket weaving materials, and he’d assumed Dwayne was incapable of coming up with a sound business idea.