Tropical Convergence (14 page)

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Authors: Melissa Good

BOOK: Tropical Convergence
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He froze, but she didn't give him a chance to answer as she strode inside and headed for the show hall. Now, the lights in the outer lobby were on, and a buzz of conversation filled the high ceiling'd space. Banners were strung across over the doorways and company representatives were everywhere, passing out marketing gimmicks and the occasional business card.

It was all too familiar to Kerry. She'd attended more than her share of trade shows on behalf of ILS, and as she made her way through the crowd and was recognized, she returned the greetings with pleasant good manners.

It was ironic in the extreme that her early training in her father's household now served her so well, making her responses gracious and automatic and completely forgettable. Kerry excused herself from between two of her major distributor's sales directors and escaped into their booth, giving the techs and the salespeople a brief wave. "Hi guys."

"Kerry!" Mark appeared from apparently nowhere, dressed in a crisp company shirt and black pleated slacks. "Glad you're here."

"Uh oh." Kerry brushed a last droplet off her sleeve. "What's broken?"

Her MIS manager put his hands on his hips. "Does it have to be a bad thing that you're here?" he asked plaintively.

"No," Kerry smiled at him. "True disasters wait for Dar." She glanced around at the crowd. "They about to open the doors? Lot of action going on around here."

"No shit," Mark agreed. "Hey, you know who's here?" His voice dropped, and he moved closer to Kerry.

Kerry gave him a wry look.

"Guess you do."

"We had breakfast with them." Kerry ran her eye over the interior of the booth, and gave the approaching Eleanor a quick smile. Everything looked ready, and she exhaled out that tiny bit of apprehension still tensing her guts from their abandonment of the prior day. "Morning, El."

"Good morning to you too, Kerry." Eleanor was in a good humor. "Fricking weather's going to knock us on the ass for a while, but that's a good thing. Start slow, less bull." She leaned against the counter next to Kerry. "Where's Rambo's worst nightmare?"

"Chilling." Kerry watched a group of salesmen from their biggest network equipment supplier break out of a huddle and make a beeline for her. "She'll be by later."

"Good." Eleanor spotted a slow, but steady flow of people into the room. "Let's keep them waiting... I know there's at least four big talkers around who were looking to meet her." Eleanor brushed her hands together. "All right folks--it's showtime. Let's go get 'em."

Mark eased back in next to her as the marketing people cleared out, starting to filter through the crowd with their bags full of ILS stress balls and the rather clever little beanbag monitor perchers that resembled a cartoon Rottweiler theoretically watching over you. "Man, there were people talking all over the place today," he told Kerry. "Those lowballers were telling everyone they're the new power players around here."

Kerry scratched her nose. "They do talk a lot," she agreed.

"They came over here talking shit, but I ran them off," Mark added. "Pain in the asses."

"Mm." Kerry folded her arms across her chest. "They tried to recruit us the other night."

Mark laughed. "Yeah, the boys told me," he agreed. "Bet he's going to crap when he finds out who he was talking to."

Kerry spied their little friend in question and chuckled under her breath. 'Yeah." She pushed off from the console and strolled off. "I bet he is."

 

 

THE SOFT CHIME of her laptop slowly penetrated Dar's idle, formless dreams and after a few moments of confusion, she opened her eyes, blinking them a few times to regain their focus. "Umph." She lifted a hand and scrubbed her face, putting her head down and almost letting the warm comfort of her pillow reclaim her.

One hand lifted and touched her track pad, and she studied the results of her query in silence. One eyebrow slowly lifted. She rose up on one elbow and typed another request in one handed, rolling the pointer over and clicking to submit it.

She'd slept for two hours, and she felt like she could sleep for a few more. Maybe it was the weather. Dar peered over her own shoulder at the window, which was still being lashed by rain. It was dark inside the room, and cool--perfect day for staying in bed.

Well.
Dar shifted a little.
That's exactly what she was doing, wasn't she?
Lazily she rolled over and stretched her body out, peering up at the television. The volleyball game was over, replaced by a gymnastics competition. She watched the girls tumbling in their intricate routines, and idly imagined Kerry participating when she was younger.

One of the girls stood at the edge of the mat, her tongue sticking out a little as she concentrated and Dar found herself smiling, knowing Kerry would have likely been doing the same thing. She did, when she was focused on something, often without realizing it.

It was really cute. Dar put her hands behind her head and indulged in a little daydreaming. It was interrupted, however, by the room's phone ringing. Dar turned her head, frowning as she judged how long Kerry had been gone. She picked up the phone and put it to her ear. "Yes?"

"Ms. Stuart?"

"You had a fifty-fifty chance and you blew it," Dar replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Roberts?"

"Yes?"

"I have a package here at the front desk for Ms. Stuart. Is it all right for me to send it up?"

Package? Dar was puzzled. "Sure," she answered, trying to recall what package Kerry might have been expecting. It didn't come to her, so she put the phone down and got up, walked to the bathroom and ran some water to wash her face.

She was patting her skin dry when the door knock came, so she tossed the towel down and went to the door, opening it to find a short, curly haired boy standing there with the promised package. "Hi."

The boy blinked and swallowed, then held out the package to her. Dar took it, watching bemusedly as he turned and sped away, disappearing around the corner of the hallway in mere seconds.

"Huh." Dar closed the door and glanced down at the box, only then realizing she was still in just her bra and jeans. An embarrassed chuckle forced its way out and she covered her face with one hand, wondering if she was due a smack to the head to get her brains working again.

She dismissed the bellboy and examined the package instead. It was relatively small, but heavier than she'd expected for its size. The label on it was addressed to Kerry, sure enough, at the hotel address, but the return address was...

"New Zealand?" Dar repeated. "Who in the hell do we know in New Zealand?" Several major accounts, of course, but she didn't think Kerry knew any of them personally, and besides, the box was from what appeared to be a business.

Dar walked over to the table and set the box down, then dropped into the chair next to it and folded her arms across her bare belly. She was curious. One hand lifted and she thunked the box with her finger, hearing a sturdy solidity inside.

Hm. Dar picked the box up and brought it close to her face, sniffing it. Cardboard. "Okay." She examined the wrapping, which was very thoroughly taped. After a moment, she put it back down and drummed her fingers on the table.

She could probably open it. Kerry probably would not mind, since the object had been sent to their hotel room and it would be logical to assume Dar would see it anyway.

"Okay, how would you feel if she opened it and it was yours?" Dar asked the empty room. "Would you care?"

Would she? Dar drew one knee up and circled it with both arms, taking a rare delve into her own psyche.

"No," she finally spoke frankly. "I wouldn't give a damn, which means Kerry probably would. So leave it alone," She got up and left the package where it was, returning to the bed and plopping back down beside her laptop.

But now that she was up, she felt restless again. So though she put her computer up onto her lap, she also dragged the phone over and picked it up.

"Room service," the tinny voice answered promptly.

"Hi." Dar tapped a command into her mail program. "Can you send me up a really big pot of coffee, a jug of milk, and a bowl of chocolate ice cream?"

Silence.

"Hello?" Dar frowned at the phone.

"Yes, ma'am--that'll be one pot of coffee for... how many people?"

"One person who really likes coffee," Dar replied. "Whatever your biggest one is."

The sound of writing. "Okay, and a jug... is that like a glass?"

"No." Dar glanced at the first mail in the box. "If I wanted a glass, I'd ask for a glass. Just bring me a half gallon, or whatever."

"Our biggest. Gotcha," the room service clerk replied. "And our biggest bowl of chocolate ice cream?"

"You're catching on," Dar said.

"That will be about fifteen minutes."

"Thanks." Dar hung up the phone and settled back, plumping the pillows up behind her and resolving to at least get some work done. After a few minutes though, she found her attention wandering from the mundane mail on her laptop and focusing on the television. An extremely cute blond girl was on the balance beam, and as Dar watched, the kid did a back flip and missed.

"Ouch." Dar winced, as the small body hit the bar, then the mat. She got up immediately, but she was obviously stunned, and wavered as she tried to get back on the bar. "Hey! Stop her, you creep!" she instructed the girl's coach, visible just on the side of the floor exhorting her.

The girl put her hands on the bar and boosted herself up, getting her feet under her and standing up. But as she started to walk, she lost her balance again and fell in a heap on the mat, this time staying there.

Dar was surprised at the outrage she felt as the coach yelled, faintly audible, for the girl to get up. "Stupid son of a..." she barked at the television. "Go help her!"

The coach did not. However, as though hearing Dar, one of the other competitors, a taller girl with dark hair did rush over and kneel next to the fallen gymnast even though her costume indicated she was on a different team.

The coach yelled again, but the dark haired girl looked up and yelled back angrily, and then people began rushing onto the floor and surrounding them both.

"Mm." Dar returned her attention to her mail. "That's better. You go, kid." She typed in silence for a moment, then the irony of the situation struck her. She looked back up at the screen in time to see the tall gymnast helping the shorter one off the mat, their arms wrapped around one other.

Dar chewed her inner lip and then she smiled, making a mental note to check the ESPN website later and find out who the kids were. There was, she suspected, a story in there somewhere. Her eyes shifted to the table, suspecting there was a story inside the box too.

With a sigh, she went back to her typing. As she finished one mail and found herself checking the television before going to the next, she recalled something Kerry had said. "Restless," Dar murmured under her breath. "Yeah. More like scatterbrained."

 

 

KERRY WALKED UP in back of Mr. Slimy, giving him a smile as he sensed her presence and turned to face her. "Hi."

"Oh! Hi...um..." The man's eyes dropped to her corporate badge. "Kerry wasn't it...ah."

'That's right," Kerry replied. "And you can do me a big favor by cutting the crap out and stop wasting my people's time."

He actually took a step back. "Hey, wait a minute..."

"No, you wait a minute." Kerry squared her shoulders and gave him a direct stare. "They're too smart to do anything but laugh at someone who would go behind their boss's back and approach them like that. If you'd do it to me, you'd do it to them. None of my people like stupid games."

The man blinked. "Look, it was nothing more than business as usual, Ms. Stuart. Don't tell me you don't do it."

"I don't do it," Kerry shot right back at him. "And if you do it again, you're going to have to explain to my boss why you're annoying my staff."

He held up both hands. "Okay, lady. Okay." He took a step backwards into Telegenic's booth. "No problem...I get the message."

Michelle Graver suddenly appeared around the other side of the booth. "What message?" She glanced at Kerry, one ginger eyebrow lifting at the blond woman's aggressive stance. "Problem, ah... Kerry?"

Of the two of them, Kerry found it much easier to tolerate Michelle, for some probably not too noble reasons. "You have slime bags working for you," she informed her. "I'm over it. He doesn't know how to take no for an answer."

Michelle gave her manager a look, and he ducked away, disappearing into the interior of the booth. Then she turned back to her visitor. "Ah. Tried a little poaching, huh?"

Kerry put one hand on her hip. "He tried to recruit me and Dar."

Both of Michelle's eyebrows hit her hairline with an almost audible crack. "Ambitious," she murmured under her breath.

"Not really. He had no idea who we were."

"Ah." Michelle cleared her throat. "Sorry." She grinned slightly. "We are pretty aggressive. I won't apologize for that." Her eyes drifted, then went back to Kerry. "Breakfast was fun."

For a moment Kerry didn't answer, as she wavered, deciding how to respond. Then she relaxed her stance a trifle. "What did you really expect?" she asked.

Graver exhaled, and half shrugged. "Damned if I know," she said, giving her head a slight toss to take the edge off the comment. "Let's see if I can start over. Buy you a cup of coffee?"

Good cop, bad cop. Kerry almost smiled. "Sure," she agreed,

Michelle turned and led the way toward the snack bar on one side of the convention hall. "Nice turnout. Didn't expect that with the rain."

"We did." Kerry let her arms drop to her sides and lengthened her steps, secretly enjoying the sensation of having someone shorter than she was have to keep up with her. Dar was such a beast that way--she didn't do it on purpose, but her legs were so much longer than Kerry's she always felt like she was having to take a little hop to keep up.

"Did you?"

"Orlando is full of distractions." Kerry arrived at the snack bar and pointed at the coffee, then held up two fingers. "However, most of them are outdoors. We're not." She leaned on the counter and faced Michelle. "I'm glad I got my fun in yesterday."

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