Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (52 page)

Finally, Charcoal Suit and the rest of the TSA agents joined us. Everyone in the airport was still staring in our direction. It didn’t help matters that Charcoal Suit and the TSA agents were laughing boisterously as if they were in a high school locker-room, sharing a private joke. Some of my fear dissipated, replaced with sudden irritation.

“This has been a misunderstanding,” the oldest, balding TSA agent explained. “Everything’s fine so we’ll all go our separate ways.”

“She kidnapped my father!” Crazy Lady barked at him. TSA man number one, who appeared to be in command, gave her an admonishing look.

“She didn’t leave with him, ma’am, so all’s well. And as for you, young lady”—TSA man couldn’t even say it with a straight face. He started laughing, causing a rippling effect among all the men, including my fake Mr Randy—“don’t let me see you in here again trying to abduct someone.”

“But…but…he said he’s Randy,” I stuttered, resulting in a new chorus of rambunctious laughter. I glanced at Crazy Lady, wondering if we had some kinship since we were the only ones not laughing. These men were laughing at us…no, technically their laughter was aimed at me. Crazy lady was just too indignant to join them.

“I had thought Americans were more prudish than us, but you’ve proven that wrong, dear,” the fake Mr Randy said, which ignited yet another round of rowdy laughter.

“I’m Randy…or Mr Randy…Mr Richard Randy,” Charcoal Suit said, smiling widely. I wanted to wipe the smirk right off his face.

Everyone eventually dispersed after a few more crafty jokes that I didn’t get, despite being the butt of them. Even the fellow airport travellers returned to their affairs, and I found myself left alone with the real Richard Randy. For some reason,
The Real Slim Shady
by Eminem popped into my head.

He tried to feign a serious expression, but was unable to freeze the curling at the corners of his sexy mouth.

“It’s nice to meet you…Ms Carver?” He held out his large hand. I was embarrassed, confused, but most of all completely pissed off. I limply clasped his hand. He tightened the grip and pulled me a little. It felt like a challenge of sorts, so I tightened my grip in response. I narrowed my eyes at him and pasted a tight smile across my face.

“She couldn’t come. I’m Marley Mason. Follow me. My car’s in the parking structure.” I walked with a hurried clip. I didn’t offer to help him with his luggage or pull my car around for him. He was young, capable and most of all, pompous. He could deal with it.

“Hey, wait up. Come on, you have to admit that was funny. Surely, you’re not mad at me, Marley Mason,” he said, jogging slightly to catch up with me. A slight shiver had coursed through my body when he’d said my name with that masculine voice of his. I ignored it and let my Louboutins do the talking. Their clipped sounds conveyed my nonverbal message perfectly.

As we neared the car, it occurred to me how stupid I was being. Honestly, I had no business being hostile. Whatever happened wasn’t his fault, it was mine. In reality, he probably helped me avoid arrest or at the very least, airport detention.

“I’m sorry. I’m not really sure what happened in there.”

He smirked again, keeping stride with me. “You don’t know? Really?”

“That’s what I said, wasn’t it? That man told me he was you. He was senile like his daughter said.”

“Oh, I don’t think he was that senile, Marley…or should I call you Ms Mason?”

I smiled curtly. I wanted to say Ms Mason because I was mad, but it would look stupid since we worked for such a casual company. “You can call me Marley.”

“Please call me Rick,” he replied congenially. “So, I take it you don’t know the definition of ‘randy’.”

We reached my car, and I opened the trunk for him. He assessed my mode of transportation, and I knew what he was thinking—small car, tall man, uncomfortable ride. Oh well, served him right. He was the cheapskate that couldn’t get a rental car. He placed his bags in the trunk.

“What are you talking about?” I didn’t attempt to hide the irritation in my voice. I wished Kathy were here with her SUV. It would have been better for everyone.

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his cell phone. I wondered if he was text messaging someone. It seemed rude, so I tapped my heel impatiently.

“Here you go.” He handed me the phone.

He’d done an Internet search for ‘randy’. The first item was a definition.

‘Randy—sexually excited or aroused, lustful, horny.’

I almost dropped his phone. Was he propositioning me? I shook my head at him, still confused.

Rick smiled impishly. It was a cute smile, almost boyish, especially with the appearance of the small dimple on his right cheek. He snatched the email I was still clutching out of my hand, and held it up to my face.

“Sweetheart, think about it. You were in an airport, holding up a sign in pink lipstick that read, ‘
RU RANDY’
. Granted, you have no question mark, but the interpretation is plain.”

I gaped in shock, while Rick chortled again. “Oh my God, that old guy…thought I was propositioning him?”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure he was a little senile. Don’t feel bad, it’s not a commonly used term anymore. It’s antiquated, kind of like the guy you just tried to pick up.”

I tightened my smile and replied coolly, “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

I walked over to the driver’s side, but he beat me to it. “This is my car. I’m driving.”

“I was just getting your door for you, Marley.” He let go of the door handle, holding his hands up in resignation.

I shook my head thinking of a response, but he caught me off guard by speaking first, “I don’t know if I should get into the car with you. You’re not going to kidnap me, are you?” He was mocking me, cocking one of his eyebrows, goading me with his sarcastic wit.

“Oh! Just get in the car already!” I grumbled.

He laughed again, but complied. Seriously, was it that funny? I didn’t think so. I started heading out towards the expressway.

“You were very late. I mean, you had that whole misunderstanding, but I noticed you the second you walked into the airport, and you were late even then. I was worried.”

I stiffened. We had those few minutes in the airport, staring at each other. He was nice to look at, but in reality, it wasn’t a great sign. It was a matter of time before I lost my job, but this guy could probably get me fired today if he wanted.

“I got lost,” I lied. I really didn’t want to tell him about my sister’s insistence that I looked like a slob or the car wash fiasco. That would just make me sound even more unintelligent. Although getting lost on the way to the airport in a city you’ve occupied your whole life probably wasn’t much better.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why couldn’t Kathy come?”

“She’s sick so I had to do it.”

“My lucky day.”

I didn’t know if he meant he was lucky because I gave him a good laugh or because of my company. Before I contemplated a response, my cell phone rang. I glanced at the dashboard where it sat.

“Are you going to answer it?”

“No, I’m driving and it’s just my mom,” I replied.

“Don’t you have hands free?”

I did have hands free, but then it would mean she’d be on speakerphone and that would be bad.

“I’ll call her later.” I felt slightly annoyed by his interest.

“It could be an emergency, Marley.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, trying to hide my frustration. “It’s not an emergency.”

Rick was quiet for a moment and the phone ceased its ringing, thank goodness. “That’s the thing about an emergency—you never know when it’s going to happen,” he said solemnly, all traces of humour leaving his voice. It surprised me.

“It’s definitely not an emergency,” I replied emphatically, then added, “My mom calls me like ten times a day.”
Just great! Why did I say that?
Now he was going to think I talked to my mom all day instead of working. Realistically, she hardly ever called me.

He left my statement alone. I hoped he’d completely forget it.

“So, you’re a consultant?” I asked lamely, trying to steer the topic away from my personal calls.

“Yes, I suppose you could call me that.”

“So, you just swoop in like a superhero, fix broken companies and pull out?”

He grinned mischievously. “Pulling out is difficult for me, but essentially that’s what I do.”

Holy crap…was that…
sexual
? I shifted, uncomfortably aware of just how close I was to him. For once, I actually wished I had a bigger car. I was so focused on my frustration that I almost forgot how hot he was…almost. His eyes were this crazy hue of green that I’d never seen before. They were intense, endearing and mischievous all at the same time.

“What can you tell me about your company, Marley?”

I allowed myself to steal a glance at him then turned away quickly. He stared right at me, piercing me with those deep emerald-coloured eyes. It was a little unnerving. As was his scent, spicy and fragrant, but not overpowering. He smelt delicious. Hell, he looked delicious if that was possible.

“Um, well. It’s a great company, but our profits are down, and it’s a tough time in the economy to manufacture clothing. We need to broaden our vendor base and create a demand for our products.”

He looked disappointed by my answer. “No, Marley, that information is obvious. I gleaned that from the reports I’ve read. I want you to tell me, as an employee, what you think about the company.”

“I think it’s a great company. Mr Henley built it from the ground up, and we have a stand-up product,” I replied, wondering what else he wanted.

“Marley, you’re really not answering my question. Surely you have some deeper insights than that. If all the employees are as uninspiring as you, I’d say I have my work cut out for me.”

Okay, that’s it.
His name was Richard right? Well, I hereby nicknamed him ‘Dick’. I inhaled deeply. “Look, Rick”—
Dick
—“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, but I’ll say this much. I love the company. Despite our economic woes, I believe there is a strong market for our product. We are a small company, family owned and completely independent. We’re not like those huge companies with flashy catalogues with smiling models that pretend to be a family. Most of our line is American made too, not like those other places that traipse the American Flag in their stores and even have the word, ‘American’ in their name but all their tags say, ‘made in China’. We’re about quality not quantity. We’re about value for the money. Our stuff costs more, but it lasts years, not months. I understand you’re here to turn around our bottom line, but before you concentrate on the bottom, you should understand what make us unique in the first place. If you think the answer is to turn us into a Stepford replica of our competitors, then you’re missing a primal opportunity to capitalise on what we already have.”

“What’s that, Marley?”

“Character, resilience and individuality,” I replied, staring at the open road, waiting for him to scream, ‘you’re fired’. That was a silly thought. Surely he would wait until I dropped him off to fire me, wouldn’t he?

I stole a peripheral glance at him. His approving grin surprised me. “That’s what I needed to hear. It makes me feel much better about this assignment. I can always tell when the challenge is worth it, or rather, when the company is worth it.”

“Why is that?”

“You describe it like a person with character traits. That’s how you know the employees really care, and I can tell you love it. It’s worth fighting for.”

I nodded to let him know I understood, but I wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. Had my haughty disobedience worked in my favour for once? His pleased expression made me uncomfortable. “Another thing, if you’re going to be working there, you can dress more casually. Usually Dockers and a polo shirt will do. Every Friday is jean day. It’s a relaxed atmosphere.” I said this more for my benefit than his. His suit was driving me a little crazy, and I couldn’t imagine watching him strut in a suit every day. Then again, what was I thinking—I probably wouldn’t be anywhere in his general vicinity and pretty soon I would no longer be in the building, either.

“I’m more comfortable in a suit typically, but I’ll probably take advantage of jean day. I have a question for you though.”

“What’s that?”

“Does casual usually include garter belts?”

I almost slammed on the breaks. Did he really just say that to me? “That’s highly inappropriate.”

He chuckled. “Well, maybe you should lower your skirt so I’m not distracted.” I looked down on my lap and sure enough, my skirt had ridden up, revealing the bottom of my garter where it attached to the hose.

I lifted my ass in the seat, trying to maintain my speed, and attempted to lower my skirt at the same time.

“Let me help you. You’re driving,” he offered, moving his hand towards me. I slapped it away.

“Stop it! You know you’re in dangerous territory here. Ever heard of sexual harassment, buddy?”

He grinned boyishly. “Yes, of course I’ve heard of it. In fact, I was just thinking that you might be sexually harassing me.”