Dancing in the Dark (17 page)

And why he had come to her bed the night before.

“The company is clearly trying to penalize women,” the spokesperson for the local chapter of the Women’s National Organization said, “and if it is allowed to get away with it, other companies will follow its lead.” She paused, then added, “And we’ll take it all the way to the Supreme Court if we have to!”

Groaning with disgust, Jake watched the newscast reporter fire off another question that made Wayans look like a villain. Charity stood next to the WNO person, looking on soberly. She hadn’t said a word to him last night about this press conference. She must have known, though, that she’d be giving the WNO their support. How could she not? It wasn’t like his situation, getting a phone call first thing in the morning with instructions to go to court with the Wayans lawyer. He hadn’t made that decision; his bosses had. Despite all his arguments, he’d been forced to go along with the injunction. He had intended to explain that to her at the first opportunity that night.

But the WNO people wouldn’t join the strikers unless the strikers wanted it. And she represented the strikers. Maybe that was why she’d been so
receptive when he’d come to her apartment. She’d wanted to lull him with a false sense of security. Maybe that was why she’d smiled so smugly at him that morning. She
knew
a lawsuit would kill their chances for the government contract. The company was on its way down the tubes unless talk of a suit was dropped very quickly. Didn’t she care?

A little voice in his brain immediately protested, reminding him of the Charity he knew. But did he really know her? He felt used by her, just as she’d used his confidences before for her amusement. She’d probably relate the “wild man” story next and have the entire Philadelphia area laughing at him and the company.

Confused, hurt, and tired, he flicked off the evening newscast, not wanting to hear any more, to know any more. Companies who were found to be discriminating in any way were barred from receiving government contracts, even bidding on them. What were she and her self-righteous women thinking of? He should call her and demand answers, he thought. A wave of reluctance pressed through him and he gave in to it. There was a call he had to make, though, to the army representative to salvage the bid while he could. Still, he expected Charity to call at any time. Tonight, he needed her to come to him.

She didn’t. Nor did she contact him throughout the long weekend.

He still felt betrayed Monday morning as he passed the strikers on his way into work. The women were cheerful and chatting among themselves. They looked smug to him. Charity walked by him without even glancing up. Hurt, deep and abiding, shot through him, and he pressed hard on the gas pedal,
the car leaping into the entrance. It hadn’t mattered what he’d said at the restaurant about the two of them being separate. She was determined to make their relationship a bargaining point. As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t up for sale.

Inside the building was chaos, phones ringing unanswered, papers everywhere. Men cursed as they hunted for needed forms and files.

Jake surveyed the mess and knew that unless they got some semblance of order, the company would be dead in the water within a week. There was only one thing to do.

Jake did it.

Charity watched in horror as a bus barreled toward the entrance to Wayans. It slowed enough to allow the picketers to move aside before sweeping past and up to the building. The bus’s windows had been papered over, leaving the interior invisible to the casual eye. She caught sight of people disembarking and hurrying into the building. They looked like women.

Her stomach tightened, her lungs struggled for air. Jake leaned out of the doorway and spoke to the bus driver. The bus took off, and Jake pulled the thick, steel-trimmed glass door shut.

“I think we just got fired,” someone said into the dead silence.

Charity rounded on her. “Don’t be silly! This is just a management ploy to make us nervous.”

“It’s working,” Mary said.

“Look, it costs them more money to train someone new than it costs to have an experienced worker on the job,” she told them sternly.

“But where did they get them from so fast?” someone asked.

“I don’t know, probably a temp service,” Charity said. “But it’ll take them weeks and weeks to learn our jobs, especially since they’ll be taught by the men who don’t know how to do them in the first place.”

Everyone laughed.

Smiling, she went on. “Think of how bad it must be in there already for them to resort to this. They’re hurting, and they’re showing it.”

Everyone cheered. Charity hoped the sound carried to the building.

“Now, let’s get back to picketing. It’s great exercise.”

Everyone milled around for a moment, then followed her lead.

Charity wished she felt as confident as she sounded. To her mind, it was a very bad blow for them that the company got replacements so quickly, even if they were temporary. And it was probably in reaction to the mention of a possible discrimination suit. She cursed the WNO people who’d said those things Friday without the strikers’ permission. This would kill the contract chances. The thought made her sick to her stomach. She’d been forced to stand there on camera with them, waiting to give her reaction which the TV reporter never got to. That stupid spokesperson was so damned long-winded, she took up all the live time. One aggressive act had followed another at Wayans, until everything was escalating beyond salvaging. They might as well get on the unemployment line now.

This wasn’t fun anymore, she thought. She didn’t
even want to think of her financial state. One disaster at a time.

But the worst disaster was Jake. How could he do this to them? She felt betrayed that he hadn’t told her about the injunction and the strike breakers.

All weekend long she’d waited for a repeat of his late-night visit. With each hour of silence, pain cut through her heart. It had hurt so bad the night before, she’d been ill from the tears.

Monday night passed in similar solitude, but the next morning brought an unexpected development. Several of the men who worked in the warehouse joined the women at the line. Their expressions were sheepish.

“We … ah … we agree with you,” one began. “The company ought to give back the health benefits to everyone, not to just a few.”

Charity grinned with relief. The women had had a sense of defeat about them that morning, with the implications of the strike breakers having sunk in. “It’s about time.”

“Yeah … well …” None of the men looked happy. One said, “We haven’t felt right about getting our benefits and you didn’t. Besides, our wives got after us about crossing the line.”

They began walking with the women, who handed over some
WAYANS
UNFAIR
signs. The women’s expressions were far too angelic. Charity knew they must be fit to burst out with laughter, just as she was.

The look on Jake’s face when he drove in later and saw the men on the line was priceless. But Charity saw the dark circles under his eyes, and his face had a drawn look. She had a feeling it matched her own. His gaze touched hers, holding anger and regret. She
wanted to say something but knew she couldn’t. She realized that even if this got settled, he would still be the boss and she would still be the employee. Her valid reasons for never getting involved in the workplace had been driven home with a vengeance.

A numbness set in as two more days went by. She could look at Jake without feeling anything. He looked back at her the same way. Even the strike had stalemated into a bizarre routine. The strikers would arrive early, several more male employees would join them, the WNO people would show up whenever there was a photo opportunity, Jake would drive by the gauntlet, followed later by the strike-breakers’ bus. The strikers would continue in shifts, Wayans would close for the day, the gauntlet would get a second pass, and everyone would go home. The company didn’t back down despite the looming deadline for filing the contract, so the women didn’t back down despite the looming loss of jobs. Stalemate.

Friday morning brought a break in the stalemate.

Jake turned around in a circle in the main office area, furious with what he saw. A sea of paper was scattered everywhere. He couldn’t remember when he’d ever seen so much paper in one place. Several file drawers were pulled from their cabinets, while others hung limply on. Chairs were overturned, and some telephones had been thrown on the floor. Even a computer terminal was ripped out, the monitor broken and upended.

He whipped through the corridors, right out the doors, and to the picketers.

“Charity!” he roared.

“I can hear you,” she said mildly, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Then hear this. The office is vandalized, destroyed. All of you are fired!”

The silence was stunning, but it left Jake feeling only slightly satisfied. Charity breached the quiet with an unrepeatable string of words that Bruce Willis would have admired. She summed it up with, “Don’t be ridiculous, Jake. You can’t fire us on suspicion.”

“The hell I can’t!”

She threw her placard from around her neck and began trotting to the building. “Come on!”

He followed her inside. Once she’d surveyed the damage, she added a few more imaginative curses. “How could they? How could they!”

He gaped at her. “You know who it is?”

“No, of course I don’t!” she snapped. “I meant … hell, you know what I meant.”

He did. His anger was cooling.

“Firing us doesn’t solve anything, though,” she said. “Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry.”

“The police did a close check early this morning,” he said. “They noticed the door from the foyer area ajar and could see inside to the offices. They called me. We still can’t figure out how they got in without setting off the burglar alarms.”

“Why were the police doing a close check?” she asked.

His glare froze her. “They’ve been doing it since the strike began. With justification, it seems.”

She lifted her chin. “I asked only because police usually just drive by.”

“Your people have gone too far, Charity.”

“My people didn’t do it. We want the health benefits we’ve always had and are entitled to still have, but not by destroying the office. I can’t believe this, and I can’t believe any of them would be doing this.”

“Somebody is.”

She sighed in resignation. “I know. It makes me sick to look at it.”

He nodded.

She bent down and began to pick up the papers.

“Don’t bother with that,” he said.

“I have to.” She looked up at him. “I just can’t leave it, Jake.”

“Why didn’t you call about that press conference last week?” he asked. “Why didn’t you let me know it was coming?”

“Why didn’t you call about the injunction?”

“I didn’t know about it until the attorney hauled me into court that morning.”

She took a deep breath. “The WNO called the press conference on our behalf without asking us. We’ve had matters pretty much taken out of our hands there. What about the scabs?”

He closed his eyes, then opened them again. “We’re drowning here without any clerical help.”

She smiled bitterly. “That’s what I told the women.”

He looked around. “We didn’t even listen to what we said the other night, did we? About you and me keeping the level heads in this.”

“No, we didn’t.” She swallowed and added, “This isn’t what the women would condone.”

“Can we settle this?”

The papers in her hands seemed so useless. “I don’t know. Can we?”

He didn’t say anything.

He helped her to her feet. They stared at each other for one breathless moment, then he pulled her to him, his lips taking hers in a punishing kiss.

Jake’s senses had long spun out of control by the time he eased his mouth from hers. She sagged against him, pressed so thoroughly to him that he could feel every inch of her soft body against his aching flesh.

“Why didn’t you come to me that night?” he asked.

“How could I?” she whispered. “You could have come to me.”

“No.” He sighed. “No more than you could have.”

Charity wanted to say a lot of things, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she just held him, allowing herself the pleasure of him real in her arms.

Eventually, he said, “You better go. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

She nodded. He wasn’t offering her platitudes this time. He must know there weren’t any more. “This won’t happen again, Jake. I promise.”

“I’ll keep the board calm.”

“If you don’t use the strike breakers and if you drop the injunction, we’ll get rid of the WNO,” she offered.

“I’ll talk to the board. That’s all I can do.”

She nodded.

“Well, well. Isn’t this cozy?”

At the snide words, Jake dropped his arms from around Charity. He cursed under his breath as Dave Ringman walked toward them, his expression about as pleasant as his voice.

“Wouldn’t your streetwalkers out there be surprised
to know how you’re making a settlement, Charity?” Dave asked sarcastically. “What’s the matter? Tired of sabotaging the place?”

“Shut up, Dave,” Jake said, cold anger running through him. “You can be civil or quiet with Charity. Or you can do your work. That would be a change.”

Dave stiffened, his hands knotting into fists. Jake wondered if the man would have the audacity to hit him. But Dave wheeled and stomped away.

Charity sighed. “Why do I think that if I ever get back to my job, it’s going to be miserable?”

“He won’t be around,” Jake said. “He’s managed to show his complete incompetency this past week. How did he ever get to be a department head?”

“He slept with the boss?”

Jake laughed.

She turned around and around for one last horrifying look at the carnage. Jake stood next to her, silent. A movement caught her eye, and as she glanced over, she saw the strikers at the doorway. They slowly filed in, staring in disbelief.

She couldn’t believe one of her people was a nasty vandal, but who else would have done this? It was too much to believe that it was completely separate from the strike.