Stella in Stilettos (6 page)

Stella gave the knob to Maggie’s office a slow turn.
You’ll be fine. Just breathe
, she thought
.
There was no reason to be nervous. This was Maggie, not some stranger. But she had butterflies in her stomach and it felt like they were playing badminton. “Hey, Maggie.”

“Come in.” Maggie gestured for her to take a seat while she continued to skim through a manila folder. “Be with you in a minute.

Stella stretched her neck to give the folder a discreet glance – Matson, Stella A. Her personnel file. She wondered what tidbits of information lurked in there. A smile played at the corners of her mouth when she recalled the day Sam Talbot hired her. After reviewing her high school and college transcripts he’d said that one day all her hard work would pay off. Maybe the time had come.

Maggie ceremoniously straightened the papers and turned the folder face-down. She came around the desk and propped against the edge. “I’ve been reviewing your file to refresh my memory on a few things and I have to tell you, we struck oil when we hired you.”

Stella felt the heat of a blush.

“No need to be embarrassed. It’s true. You work your tail off around here, which keeps everything running smoothly. You’re our background-music.”

Background music?
Stella’s mouth twitched with a smile.

Maggie explained. “You’re always there to lend a hand and you don’t crow about it. Even when certain people try to disrupt the cadence, you manage to keep the beat. Lord knows you keep me in synch.” She lifted her brows. “I just realized something. If I’m not careful I’ll be
your
assistant instead of the other way around.” She laughed lightly. “Seriously, Stella, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Stella allowed the twitch to grow into an ear to ear grin. “Thanks, Maggie.”

“No. Thank you.” Maggie shifted against the desk. “Okay. We’ve had our appetizer. Now for the main entrée.” She pulled a yellow tablet from a gray mail tray on the corner of her desk. “I’ve been evaluating each candidate on knowledge of job, performance, cooperation, and overall confidence level.”

Stella nodded.

“I’ve composed a list of questions.” Maggie proceeded to fire away.

Stella was careful with each answer, until she came to the one about why she wanted the job. For some reason her brain and mouth weren’t working together. She meant to say it would be an honor to be Maggie’s assistant. What came out instead made her sound shallow and assuming. “Better pay.”

A slight dip of Maggie’s carefully plucked eyebrows said she wasn’t impressed.

Stella tried to backpedal. “That didn’t come out right.”

“No worries.” There was a peculiar nuance in Maggie’s voice which made Stella uneasy. “I’ll announce my decision at the end of the month.”

“Way to choke, Matson.” Stella second-guessed herself all the way back to her cubicle. Alex was there with a smile.

“How’d it go?”

His presence was a whammy to her senses, but she was determined not to trip into him or spill anything. “Pretty well, I think.” She sat down and planted both feet squarely on the floor. Why was he there? And how did he know she was being interviewed?

His eyes latched onto her like they were putting her counter-measures to the test.

Alex slid into the chair next to the desk. A hint of soap and an earthy men’s cologne came with him.

Stella’s nostrils staged a coup of delight by taking a whiff.

Unfortunately, three-walled compartments trapped the tiniest of sounds, even a faint sniff. She checked his reaction to see if he’d heard it.

Oh yeah. He’d heard. Laughter crinkled the corners of his eyes.

Argh!
The man occupies her airspace for less than a minute and she behaves like she’s front row at a rock concert, ready to fling her bra at him.

Alex kept the unexpected going. “Interviews can be nerve-wracking.”

Stella didn’t quite know how to respond, so she nodded in agreement. Again, why was he there? And why was he staring a hole through her?

Alex continued with small talk, never removing his eyes. “What exactly does the Vice President of Advertising do?”

Stella was tempted to say “everything that I already do”. Instead, she ran down a list of duties.

His blue eyes connected with hers. “You sound very passionate…” He cleared his throat. “…about the job.”

His silky emphasis lit her pilot light. “I…yes, I am.”

Maggie poked her head out of her office and threw a bucket of water on the heat that was about to burst Stella’s cubicle into flames. “Alex.”

Alex kept his eyes on Stella. “Yeah, boss?”

“Need to talk with you for a few minutes.”

Alex smiled at Stella while answering Maggie. “I’ll be right there.” He winked before he left.

Stella managed a casual smile despite bottle rockets detonating inside. The second he was out of sight, she exhaled with loud, blissful confusion.

* * * *

Stella handed Corrine a cup of French vanilla coffee.

“Thank you. I so needed this.” Corrine indulged in a careful sip. “Ahhhh.” She threw her head back. “Better than sex.”

Nuh-uh
. Then again, maybe. Stella took a deliberate sip and held up the cup. “It’s definitely satisfying.”

“Unlike the sideshow going on in there.” Corrine nodded toward Maggie’s office. “Pretty boy is up to something.”

He was pretty all right, and then some. “Like what?” Stella asked.

Corrine put a hand on her shoulder. “Or maybe I should say that Maggie is up to something. She’s moving in on that man, kissing up to him and is probably going to hand him your promotion.”

“No way.” Stella laughed but the cogs started to turn. Surely Maggie wouldn’t give Alex the promotion. He was a newbie who hadn’t even gotten his feet wet.

* * * *

Stella rubbed the back of her neck which was stiff from craning it all day. She could really go for a massage. Or a dart board with Maggie’s picture on it. Maybe Alex’s too. Part of her was inclined to agree with Corrine’s theory. The rest of her fought against it. Both parts, however, were in agreement on one thing – something didn’t feel right.

Trish snapped her fingers in front of Stella. “Hellooo. Are you in there?”

“Sorry. Guess I zoned out.”

“In a noisy bar?” Trish studied Stella through squinty eyes. “You look like you’re about to maim someone.”

Stella’s exhale was heavy. “No maiming. I could go for some dart practice though.”

“Huh?”

The question was lost when the waiter showed up to take their order.

Trish pointed at Stella. “Get this woman a margarita, fast. Bring me one too, and some chips and salsa.”

Stella amended her order to black coffee.

“Coffee? With chips and salsa? Eww. Disgusting.” Trish looked her over. “Your day must’ve sucked worse than mine.”

Another puff of pent-up air gushed from Stella. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure if your day sucked? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Blame Corrine.”

Trish laughed. “What’s that gray-haired minx up to now?”

“She’s making me paranoid.”

“Don’t keep me hanging, tell me everything.”

Stella sighed. “Not until I’ve had coffee.”

“Okey dokey, then I’ll whine first.” Trish bellyached about her boss dumping a ton of work on her five minutes before he left for a three-week escape to Maui. “The bastard didn’t blink when he said ‘don’t have too much fun while I’m gone’.” She growled making the couple flinch at the next table, and then called her boss an armadillo.

Stella grinned in spite of her mood. “An armadillo?”

“Those things with a hump and a tail.”

“I know what an armadillo is.”

Trish lifted a shoulder. “On my way here, I called him everything I can’t say in public. Now I’m resorting to animal names.”

Their waiter smiled at the strange conversation he walked into when he brought their order. He chuckled and walked away after Trish gave him a toothy grin.

Stella gripped the coffee cup like it was deliverance.

“You have your mood-potion, now start yapping.”

Before Stella unfurled the days’ chaos, she mentioned yesterday’s floozy disaster. “I looked like a hooker, Trish.”

Trish tapped the side of her glass. “Did Alex notice?

“He could’ve cared less. Besides, the clothes weren’t for him. I needed something to wear since I spent the night.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Trish licked some salt from her margarita glass. “Are you sure he had a pulse?”

“I didn’t check for a pulse. I was too busy spilling coffee and falling into him.” She also mentioned his eye-rolling reaction.

Trish knitted her brows together. “The bastard.”

Stella chuckled. “So much for not cussing in public.”

“You gave him an opportunity to cop a feel and he rolls his eyes? Double bastard.”

“Yes, he’s a bastard, but I didn’t trip into him so he could cop a feel.”

Trish bobbed her head up and down with animation. “You tripped to make him notice you.”

“Whatever.” Stella took another hit of coffee. “I finally got my interview for the promotion.”

“And?”

“Maggie seemed a little chilly after I answered her last question.” Stella winced. “I mentioned the raise in pay.”

“What’s wrong with mentioning money? After all, isn’t that what you’re there for?”

“I should’ve waited for her to bring it up.” Stella shared the boring particulars while Trish slurped the last of her margarita.

Trish looked thoughtful. “I don’t trust that woman. Something about her makes me want to stick my leg out to trip her when she walks by.”

It was hard to be serious with Trish around. Stella shook her head and downed the rest of her coffee. “I went back into chat last night.”

Trish laid a tortilla chip heaping with salsa on her napkin. “You just now remembered?”

“I guess I was preoccupied with other things.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Trish cocked an eyebrow. “Spill it, sister.”

Stella snickered and gave a quiet accounting of the conversation between her and Mr. Right. “He’s incredible, Trish. Easy to talk to. Smart. Funny.”

Trish’s hazel eyes sparkled with supposition. “He could be the one.”

It was a ludicrous concept, and Stella wouldn’t allow herself the fantasy. “Probably not. He said the only thing he’s looking for is friendship.”

* * * *

Alex scooted onto the bar stool next to Jett Morgan.

“I see you got my message.” Jett chugged a healthy swallow of beer.

“It sounded important. What’s going on?” Alex motioned to the bartender. “A shot of tequila. Better make it two.”

Jett chuckled but there was little mirth attached to it. “Bad day?”

“The day from hell.” Alex slung the first shot to the back of his throat. He was in the mood to breathe fire so the burn didn’t affect him. He needed a whole freaking bottle of tequila, not just a couple of shots. The second he’d stepped into Maggie’s office everything went downhill. She made small talk about snow skiing and for some reason found ways to touch him. A hand to his hand. She nudged him with her shoulder. She brought the tip of her shoe to his. Some people were touchy-feely, he got that, but the work place dictated restraint. Of course, he wouldn’t nark her out, but he sure as hell wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d met Stella’s disapproving eyes and Corrine’s sneer when he left Maggie’s office. Before he could address their unspoken accusations, his phone rang. Just what he didn’t need – a forty-five minute phone conversation with his stepdad who wanted him to quit the lingerie company to come to work for his investment firm. He’d heard it all before. Alex had entertained the idea, but still wasn’t sold on the idea of working with family. And he was bullheaded enough not to cave to pressure from anyone. His stepdad wanted him to make the change right now and hung up in a huff when Alex said “Someday.” To finish him off, he found a perfumed note from Belinda tucked in his coat pocket. She wanted to meet up with him tonight at Magda’s Grill and Bar. Not in this lifetime! Alex tossed back the second shot and put his hand up to get the bartender’s attention again.

Jett slapped him on the shoulder. “Hate to say it, but your day is about to get worse.”

Stella’s fingers rushed across the keyboard. The haste produced an error message. “Password unrecognized. Pfft. Why don’t they just say ‘slow down, eager beaver’?” She scooted to the edge of the chair when her name popped in the users-list.

Mr. Right had sent an email asking her to join him in chat around nine. She glanced at the corner of her screen.
Ack
. It was already ten. If her mother hadn’t called at eight forty-five to discuss Aunt Ruth’s foot surgery, she would’ve made it on time. Her mom walked her through every lurid detail; including how much anesthetic it took to make her aunt barf.