Calculated Risk (21 page)

“I'm sorry, Cisney, I'm in the dark as much as you are.”

His hangdog expression punctured her anger. Phil wasn't at fault. She softened her tone. “I'm sorry, too. For barking at you. Come in and sit.” She punched the button assigned to Nick on her office phone. Take complaints to the director, not to the subordinate, who is just trying to do his job.

Nick's secretary picked up. “Hey, Cisney.”

“Hi, Linda. Is Nick in?”

“Uh…” A pause. “His calendar says he's there with you.”

She glanced at Phil, who shifted in his chair. “If the man sitting in front of me is Nick, something has turned his brown eyes blue.” She winked at Phil.

“I don't know where he's gotten off to, Cisney. I know the Bureau of Insurance has stirred up some trouble around here. May I take a message, or put you into his voicemail?”

Cisney didn't trust her attitude in leaving Nick a message. “Please tell him to call me as soon as he's available.”

She returned the receiver to its base and collected the prepared documents from her paper-covered desk. “How about we do this.” She placed Nick's copy of the presentation in front of Phil. “Why don't you take this and look it over. The executive summary will give you a good idea what we're proposing, and the pages with blanks waiting for specific statistics will show you what we need.”

She sat back in her chair. “Except for Eric's staff meeting at ten, I'll be here for the next couple of hours. Call me if you have any questions, and if I'm not here, call Angela.”

Phil slid the document onto his notebook. He replaced a couple of yellow stickies he'd disturbed back on her pile. “I'll do what I can.”

She planted a smile on her face until Phil disappeared, and then dropped it. Her computer clock said she had forty-five minutes before Eric's meeting. Unless Phil was a genius, no way would she have solid numbers by then.

What was going on? It sounded as if she'd lost her project actuary. What was she going to say to her boss when it was her turn to share the progress on her project?
Do you have a pink slip with my name on it?

 

****

 

Nick ended the call with the placated government man and went in search of Phil. The actuarial analyst had ducked his head into Nick's office twice while he was on the phone.

As Nick passed Linda's desk outside his office, she shifted her phone receiver to her other ear and waved a While-You-Were-Out slip at him. Probably the same one she'd tried to hand him on his way into his office to take the Bureau guy's call. This time he accepted the note.

Cisney had called requesting an ASAP response. It seemed everyone wanted him today. He made the last turn in the labyrinth of cubicles toward Phil's. The analyst wasn't at his desk. No wonder. The Bureau call had taken over two hours. Phil would be at lunch. He headed for Cisney's office, calling her on his cell.

 

****

 

Cisney and Mom carried their salads in plastic containers into Dad's room. Cisney's phone played the marimba from her handbag where she'd left it on the corner chair.

“Get that,” Daddy said. “Now. It's gone off three times since you left for the cafeteria.”

Cisney strode to the chair. “I forgot to put it on vibrate. Sorry.”

“Just answer it. It's driving me crazy.”

She set her salad on the chair and grabbed her handbag. Whoever from work was trying to reach her could wait. She'd delayed leaving work, hoping to hear from Nick, and now she had less than an hour with Daddy before she had to leave for her bridesmaid's dress fitting. And Phil knew to call Angela with questions.

She reached inside her handbag and thumbed the switch to vibrate. “So, I hear you had more tests today,” she said, dragging the chair closer to the bed, next to Mom's chair.

“Yeah.” He thrust his spoon into the gelatin cup and dropped them on his tray. “Why do they always feed this stuff to people in hospitals?” He pointed at her handbag. “You should check your voicemails. I don't want your company going under because you're having lunch—a late lunch—with your old man. It was the same ringtone as for the person who already called you twice.”

Maybe not. If she did nothing else tonight, she'd assign ringtones to her most popular callers.

“You've got unique ringtones for work, friends, family, and so on, right?”

What was he, clairvoyant? She took in a forkful of lettuce and pretended to read the nutrition information on her bottled fruit drink. “I haven't gotten around to ringtones yet.”

“No? I told you to use that feature. Makes it so much easier to know which calls to ignore.”

“I'll do it as soon as I get a chance.”

“What color is your bridesmaid dress?” Mom asked.

Cisney gave Mom a thank-you smile. “Hot pink.”

“You'll look great in hot pink.”

“Angela went with long skirts that flow. It's actually a decent dress, as bridesmaid dresses go. I'm going for a fitting as soon as I leave here.”

Mom's eyes lit up, and she chuckled. “I remember one bridesmaid dress I had to wear. It was tan. Can you believe that?”

“Must have been a paranoid bride trying to make sure her bridesmaids didn't outshine her.”

Daddy sighed. “Can we talk about something else?”

Cisney turned the conversation to his tests, and he lavished them with details and opinions. Commanding men were such big babies when they were sick. She cooed or wagged her head during his monologue as she contemplated how to make up lost work time. So much for being a better daughter.

 

****

 

Cisney let herself into her apartment. Which should she do first? Get a soda, make a salad, crash on the sofa and sleep, or check her voicemails?

Or multitask. She listened to the first of Nick's three voicemails and grabbed a diet orange from the refrigerator.
I'm on my way to your office.
She'd already left for the hospital.

She tapped his next message.
I have your numbers. All looks good. Sorry about the mix up with Phil. I had Julie working on your project.
She could make a lucrative business out of training actuaries to communicate with each other.

Cisney took a sip of her soda and listened to Nick's last message.
Talked to Phil. He said you're out of the office. I hope your dad is progressing well. I gave Angela the numbers. I need to talk to you.
He needed to talk to a lot of people, including his secretary. At least, she didn't have to worry about the progress of the proposal.

Food. She needed sustenance. She'd call Nick after she had something to eat.

She vacuumed in half a sleeve of crackers while creating her salad. Her phone buzzed on the counter. With hypoglycemic shakes, she fumbled for it. Angela. Her shoulders sagged. She was in no shape to solve work problems tonight. What else would Angela be calling about? Oh, yeah. Her bridesmaid dress. That would be fitting.

Cisney, you're slaphappy.

She answered. “The fitting went fine. Tell me the proposal is in good shape.”

“Hello to you, too. The proposal is in good shape. We can start work on the presentation tomorrow.”

Cisney shot up a big thank-you to the Lord. “Sorry. I'm sooo tired. But the fitting did go well. Nice dress.”

Angela heaved a sigh. “I'm not calling about the presentation, or your dress.”

 

****

 

Nick unlocked the church and set up a classroom for ten people. He placed his Bible and facilitator's manual on the table and headed down the hall to the drink machine. He'd miss this church. In his five years leading the beginner's Bible study, men and women turned to Christ or developed deeper relationships with God. Some were leaders in the church now. Definitely all had become disciples.

He fed coins into the machine. God's timing couldn't have been better. His current class would wrap up the night before the moving van arrived to pack up his apartment.

He'd look for apartments north of Charlotte. That way he could return to his childhood church. Mom and Dad would like that.

A loud noise sounded from the direction of the church library. He snagged the can from the dispensing well and went to investigate.

Pastor Doug knelt on the hardwood floor, stacking old hardback books. Next to him rested a box whose bottom had given way and another that was in good shape.

“Need some help?”

Pastor Doug looked up and grinned sheepishly. “Yes. Your pastor is preparing to haul these books to the dumpster under the cover of darkness.”

Nick picked up a book and flipped through its yellowed pages. “I can see why.”

“Why do people bring all the books from their deceased great aunts' attics and donate them to our library? The writing is archaic, the print is small and crowded, and the pages are tea-colored. Tell me, would you pull one of these books off the shelf?”

“Unlikely.” Would this be a bad time to tell Pastor Doug he'd be leaving? It might be his only chance. “I have some good news and some bad news.”

“Share the good news first.” The older man pitched books into the sturdier box.

Nick tossed in more. “I've accepted a new job.”

Pastor Doug straightened from his task and shook Nick's hand. “Congratulations!”

“The bad news is the current beginner's study I lead is my last. I'm relocating to Charlotte.”

The clergymen's smile sagged. “Our great loss.” He placed his hand on Nick's shoulder. “I mean that, Nick. You've been a faithful servant here. Does this change have something to do with you moving closer to a lovely young lady in Charlotte?”

Nick ran his hand over the back of his neck. “That ended.”

Pastor Doug's eyebrows shot up. “Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know.”

“It happened while you lay flat on your back after your surgery. You had enough problems of your own without hearing about mine. She's happily engaged, now.”

“And how are you?” The pastor searched Nick's eyes.

“I'm good, but I do have a question for you.”

Pastor Doug closed the box and set it on a chair. “Fire away.”

“What do you do when you feel as if you're falling for someone so different from the women you've enjoyed in the past?”

“Ah. A new—”

“I mean, she's unsystematic, she's intense, she's a red SUV to my beige sedan. On the other hand, she's energy personified. She's talented, creative, and funny. I don't know whether I want to take care of her or tape her mouth shut—” He shook his head. “I didn't mean to rattle on like that.” He raked his hand through his hair. “See what she does to me?”

Pastor Doug chuckled. “I love a good romance. It's all about the conflict.”

“Maybe from the outside looking in, but I don't want to pursue something that's all wrong for us. We're both on the rebound, and I really don't want another long-distance relationship, traveling between Richmond and Charlotte.”

“There's only one thing to do.”

“Yeah, I know. I have been.”

“May we do it now?”

“I hoped you would.”

Pastor Doug placed his hand on Nick's shoulder and they bowed their heads.

 

****

 

Cisney switched her phone to her other ear and popped a cherry tomato into her mouth. “So what are you calling about, Angela?”

“Are you sitting down?”

“I'm leaning my elbows on the counter and thinking about crawling up on it to sleep. So you'd better tell me your tidbit before my phone falls from my ear and my head hits the granite.”

“The scuttlebutt is that Nick quit his job.”

Cisney whipped up to her full height. “What?”

“Maybe it's false gossip. I just wanted to give you a heads-up, in case it's a fact.”

Cisney plunked down on a counter stool. Dots rapidly connected. His resignation made sense. “I knew it.” She whacked the counter, and then shook her hand until the pain subsided.

“So, he told you?”

“No. But remember, I told you he went out with his ex-girlfriend twice over the holiday?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet they made up on Friday and he interviewed on Saturday. He must have had it all planned. And now, there's a good chance she's sporting a diamond again. I had a sneaky feeling last night that he's engaged. My guess is he'll be moving back to the Charlotte area.”

“Wow. Who'd have thought Nick the Actuary could be so crafty?”

Crafty didn't describe the half of it. Cisney pushed her salad aside, her appetite gone. Nick had almost kissed her last night. She knew when a man had a kiss in mind, and Nick definitely did. Was the caring man she'd fallen for, sweet Ellie's son, actually a two-timing rat in sheep's fleece?

 

 

 

 

15

 

Cisney handed Tom the changes she wanted on the presentation graphs. “Are you ready for your big night Friday?” She forced a smile. Living proof she could be civil to any man whose name wasn't Nick LeCrone.

“Oh, yeah. Been ready for a long time. Angela's my one-and-only.”

“Too bad more men don't subscribe to the principle of a one-and-only.” That had come out harsh.

Tom did a doubletake.

Yes, she was his boss in woman-scorned clothing.

His eyes wide, Tom backed out of her office, raising the marked-up graphs. “I'll get on these right away.”

She grabbed another set of graphs and stared at the top pie chart. Her attitude was the pits. But if one more person stopped by to ask if she'd heard about Nick's resignation, she'd grab her handbag and leave for a vacation as far as her bonus miles would take her.