Читать книгу Boss On Notice - Janet Lee Nye - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

SHE WENT OVER the numbers again. Leaning back in the kitchen chair, Mickie let out a long sigh. There was nothing else to do. She’d applied at four places the day before. Two waitress jobs, a boutique and, the most desirable, a day care center. She could bring Ian to work with her. But she was running out of money and could not dip into her savings. That was to live on while in school. The rent was due and she needed groceries and more minutes on her phone.

The problem was, she discovered later while wandering the streets with a grumpy Ian in his stroller, pay phones were becoming extinct. She finally found one on the USC campus, not far from where she would be studying nursing come fall.

She plugged coins into the slot while preparing herself for the subterfuge. The ploys and the hiding and the lies that made up her life now. Already the tears were stinging. Her mother answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Auntie Em. It’s me.”

Code names. Fake addresses. Lies and constant fear.

“Dorothy! How wonderful to hear your voice. How is...everything?”

“About the same. Did you get the pictures I sent you from my vacation?”

Pictures of her grandson, whom she’d only held once. Mickie covered her face with a hand at the memory of her mother whispering in baby Ian’s ear. I love you, I love you, I love you, MeMe will always love you. And then they had fled.

“Yes. Thank you so much. Everything looked so wonderful. I love to see all the places you go. I just wish you would travel by here someday.”

“Me, too. I will. Someday. I don’t have much time, but I was wondering if you could send me some more of those greeting cards you make. Everyone just loves them.”

Greeting cards meant prepaid debit cards.

“Of course I can. How many do you need?”

“Three? Four? Whatever you can.”

“I’ll send them today. Give everyone kisses for me. I love you all.”

“I love you, too.” The word Mom slipped from her lips when she’d hung up. When it was safe. She pressed her forehead to the handset, fighting back the tears and the exhaustion and the loneliness.

“Mama. Mama. Mama.”

Ian’s chubby arms waved at her. Up. He wanted up. She scooped him from the stroller and hugged him tight. “It’s almost over, baby love. I’ll be done with school in two years and we’ll be all set. We’ll buy a real house and a car and you can have a dog. And all this will be over.”

That put some steel back in her spine. Over. Safe. Secure. Before Ian was old enough to know they’d once been this poor and desperate. Now that she had some extra money on the way, she felt some of the tension leave her.

“You ready for some lunch? Yeah? Okay. Let’s go eat.”

While Ian ate his lunch, Mickie filled the duffel bag with laundry. She considered Josh’s offer to use his. She was tired. Tired of walking. Tired of dragging things from here to there, towing Ian along behind her. She shook her head. Nope. Take it to the Laundromat. You’ve let him get too close already. She took a quick minute to gobble down her own lunch and got Ian cleaned up. He loved the Laundromat anyway. Loved watching the clothes tumble around in the front-load washers. And there were usually some older women there who showered Ian with attention. She shouldered the duffel with a sigh and strapped Ian into his stroller. If only everything didn’t have to be so hard.

* * *

MICKIE WAS HEADING down the sidewalk as Josh slowed down to turn into the driveway. Pushing the stroller with the heavy bag across her shoulders, she was going in the other direction so she didn’t see him. He parked the car and climbed out. She had that same duffel the other day when she went to the Laundromat. How much laundry did she go through? Hurrying to the sidewalk, hoping to catch her and offer the use of his washer again, he realized it wasn’t that she went through that much laundry, but that she couldn’t carry it all that far.

“Damn it,” he muttered. She had turned the corner, out of hailing distance. “Damn it.” He considered getting back in the car and going to find her. She’d had to have turned at the first corner to be out of sight so quickly. Walking back up the sidewalk, he shook his head. The way she’d reacted to his offer? If he drove around to find her now? She’d be livid. Let her have her pride, man. It’s probably all she has.

It bothered him, though. He rummaged through his supply of frozen dinners and ripped one open. None of your business. You offered. Punching the correct number of minutes on the microwave, he hit Start and leaned against the kitchen counter to wait. He couldn’t shake the image of her marching down the street, head high, pushing the kid in his stroller and that heavy bag slung across her back.

The microwave beeped and he pulled out the steaming plastic tray, cussing as the heat singed his fingertips. He put the tray on the table and grabbed a fork. He was beginning to suspect Mickie possessed more than Sadie’s reluctance to accept help. Sadie hadn’t built a successful company without an iron will and the strength to push ahead against all odds. Mickie seemed to have that same strength.

He was finishing up his meal when Aaron wandered in with Travis. “Dude,” Aaron said. “Do you know how much crap and salt is in those things?”

Josh got up. “Yes. What are you guys doing back so soon?”

“We need to resupply and make a report,” Aaron said. He gestured at Travis with his thumb. “Client this morning was pushing the boundaries but he deflected it perfectly.”

Frowning, Josh looked over at Travis. He tilted his head, raised an eyebrow. This was something they took very seriously. “Travis,” he said. “Do I need to talk to her?”

“I don’t think so,” Travis said. He took a step backward, dipped his head down, shook it. Put his hands up like it wasn’t a thing. “She backed down immediately. Apologized.”

“What was the name?” Josh asked with a sigh. He’d have to flag her account. He drummed out a beat on the tabletop with his fingertips. “Before you leave, I’m going to need both of you to write up exactly what was said and what happened.”

Aaron nodded. “I know where the incident-report form is. We’ll use the computer in the testing room.”

“Okay. I’ll get the report together and forward it to Sadie this afternoon. We’ll see what she says.”

As they left the kitchen, Josh grabbed a bottle of water. He knew what Sadie was going to say. Most of it would consist of blistering profanities. They’d had an incident in the early years when a client accused a Crew member of inappropriate behavior. She’d made it up to try to get him fired for not reciprocating, but it had scared Sadie. Why did people have to act this way? Did high school ever end? Not for some people, apparently. The reason that it hit Sadie so hard was because the Crew was her family. She felt responsible for them. The behavioral contracts had been born from that incident.

Now it was his turn to feel that pressure. To protect his Crew. He might have to tiptoe around this a little more delicately than Sadie would. Sadie could be direct and no-nonsense with another woman. He’d have to be more diplomatic about it. Crap. Why can’t people just behave?

* * *

MICKIE LISTENED, IN the dark, wrapped in blankets, on her bed of foam padding. She’d woken out of sleep, as much sleep as she’d been able to manage, by a panicked thought. Had Ian cried? A steady bang on the front door sent her heart racing even faster as she scrambled to her feet and ran out the bedroom door toward Ian’s room.

“Fire department!” The two words came in one big burst of sound, accompanied by another quick round of pounding on the door.

Fire? She scooped up Ian up, still in his blanket, and carried him to the living room. There, she could see the pulse of red lights and she could hear the rumbling of engines. She opened the door just as the firefighter was about to knock again.

“What’s happening?”

“Gas leak in the next duplex over. We’re temporarily evacuating until the line gets shut down for repairs. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

“Oh, okay.”

Great. She slipped on the flip-flops she kept by the front door and carried Ian outside. The firefighter directed her to a spot down the street where she could see other residents huddled together. At least it’s summer and not raining.

“Mickie,” a voice called from the side of the street.

She turned toward the voice. Josh. He was sitting cross-legged in the grass, looking as cute as ever. Even relaxed on the grass, those shoulders—damn. She walked over, said hey and tried to ease herself down near him, but ended up losing her balance and falling flat on her ass. Ouch! At least she cushioned the plop down for Ian, who was still asleep in her arms. Not an easy armful. Ian was getting bigger every day and hauling him around wasn’t easy. He’d stirred as her butt hit the ground, but thankfully it wasn’t too much.

“Shhh. Go to sleep. It’s okay,” she murmured to him as she rocked him in her arms.

“Nice night to get kicked out of bed, huh?” Josh asked. His hair was a bit messy, but in a sexy way, like he’d just been stirred out of a nap on the sofa. She imagined... Wait, no!

“Ugh. Tomorrow morning is not going to be pretty,” she said. She was already imagining all the things she had to do tomorrow and how much more pleasant they’d be without any sleep. “Do they have any idea how long it’s going to take?”

“Someone from the Red Cross just got here. Said they have emergency shelter for people with no place to go.”

“Is it going to be that long? Where is it?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t ask. If it’s more than an hour, I’ll call DeShawn, go to his place.”

“Oh.”

“You have some place to go? To take the kiddo?”

She shook her head, pressing her lips together. Awesome. Another thing she’d never thought of. What to do in an emergency. She could barely take care of them when everything was going perfectly. She shifted Ian in her arms and fussed with his blanket. When the fear and the shame hit, it was like a slow trickle of cold in her gut, dead center, that spread outward and upward, all through her. She hated not knowing what to do next. Because she was supposed to know. She was the mom. And, yet, here we are. Don’t cry. Do not cry in front of him. Whether she meant Josh or Ian, she wasn’t sure.

She blew a breath out. There was a throb in her temple now. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up with a whopper of a headache on top of it all. That’s help. That’d just be the icing on the cake.

“Hey. You okay?” Josh asked. “You want me to get the Red Cross guy so you can talk to him?”

His voice, warm and low, full of concern, should have comforted her. Really, it should have. But it only made her feel worse. Because she was the worst mother on the planet. What would happen? What if the apartment burned down? What if there was a flood? Or a tornado? What if she got sick? What would happen to Ian? How would she take care of him? It struck her, all at once, just how precarious this plan of hers was. Make it to the start of nursing school, power through, come through the other side financially solid. Who actually thought that was going to work? And the thing was, she hadn’t just put herself in this position, she’d put her son in this position, and that was indefensible.

She turned her face away from Josh, curling forward to rest her cheek on the top of Ian’s head. There were bad thoughts piling up in her head and she knew—she knew—that she had to let that bad talk fall away. She couldn’t let that plow her under, that big mudslide of bad. “No. I’ll talk to him if it’s going to take much longer.”

Take care of the immediate problem. The one that’s right in front of you. Okay, great plan. How, exactly?

“I’m sure DeShawn would make room for all of us,” Josh said. “If it came to that.”

A small shuddering laugh escaped her lips. Oh, God. Not just alone with Josh. Alone with Josh and his buddy? No. Just, no. She hugged Ian against her. “We’ll be okay.”

This is where you are. On the street with a stranger offering to take you and your son to an even stranger stranger’s house. Giving in to the heavy weight of guilt and shame, her constant companions these days, her shoulders slumped. Looking at the ground beside her to make sure there were no fire-ant mounds there before running her hand across it, she gently lowered Ian to the grass and took a moment to make sure he was covered with the blanket because she could feel Josh’s gaze on her back. She shook out her aching arms. He’s getting so big.

“Can I ask you something?”

She bit back the profane remark that rose to the tip of her tongue. She was too tired for this. He’s a nice guy. Don’t take it out on him. “You can ask.”

“I saw you going to the Laundromat the other day,” he said, instantly horrifying her in fifty thousand different ways by this observation. Then he doubled down by adding, “Please use my washer and dryer. It’s right there. I barely use it. If you want, just let me know when you need it and I’ll leave the back door unlocked so you can come and go while I’m out working.”

The thing about it was...he looked so innocent and guileless when he said it. Just sitting there on the grass, like it wasn’t a thing, waiting for a response.

“What does it matter to you?” she said, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her eyes. She started playing with her whole mess of hair, wishing she’d grabbed a scrunchie on her way out the door. They were everywhere in her apartment: on the dresser, on the sink, on the floor, behind the sofa. Every time she cleaned, she’d find at least half a dozen and have no idea how they got where she found them.

He huffed out a burst of air in such obvious exasperation that she looked over at him. He was grinning at her. “You don’t know this,” he said, “but you are so like my boss, Sadie, that it isn’t even funny.”

She glared at him, glad for the spark of anger that burned out her feelings of failure. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

He held up a hand and began ticking off fingers, one by one. “Stubborn, mule-headed, prideful, wouldn’t ask for a glass of water if she was on fire. Should I continue?”

“Why not?” she said. “You still have a thumb to use.” But she turned away before he could finish, making sure to flounce her hair. She turned back to him and scrunched up her nose. “You act like those are bad things.”

“No, not bad,” he said. “Just unnecessary at times. Why are you dragging yourself and Ian to the Laundromat a couple of times a week, in this heat, spending the money when you can walk next door and do it for free?”

“Because nothing is for free, Josh. You know that.”

That made him shut up. After a few minutes, a firefighter made his way down to the small crowd. “Okay, everyone can return to their homes. The leak is secured. The gas is off until the repairs can be made but the property owners told me that only the heat is gas-powered so you shouldn’t be impacted at all.”

“Other than dragging us out into the street in the middle of the night,” Mickie grumbled. But she said it under her breath because it wasn’t this guy’s fault and that was one thing she always hated—the way people would attack the easy target, the person who just happened to be there, trying to help. She stood, lifting Ian as she did. Gosh, he was heavy.

“Let me carry him for you,” Josh said.

“I’ve got him.”

“Mickie.”

She stopped at the tone of his voice. She was feeling just a hitch past irritated and bordering on perturbed at this point. “What?”

“Let someone help you, for God’s sake. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

She stared at him. “Yes. I do,” she whispered.

He stepped closer. “No. You don’t.” He held out his hands. “Let me carry him back to your place.”

“You don’t even know how to hold a baby.”

“It’s easier when they aren’t screaming and blowing snot bubbles at me.” He stood, grinning at her with his hands still extended, conceding her point, but still not backing down. Still wanting to do what he could do. The grin faded. “Please, Mickie.”

“Why?”

“Because I was alone for a long time, too. I get it.”

Why are you being like this? Because you trusted a man once before, that’s why. But she was so tempted. A washer and dryer! Right next door. No more two-hour trips to the Laundromat twice a week? She drew in a breath. “Okay.”

His smile returned. “Okay?”

“I’ll use your stupid washer and dryer. But only because it means so much to you. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Of course you are. Now, give me the baby.”

She handed Ian over to him. He looked mildly afraid and awkwardly maneuvered the sleeping toddler in his arms. But he figured it out and looked over at her. “Dang. He’s heavier than I remember. How do you lug him around all day?”

“It’s called being a mother.”