Flash Flood (10 page)

Alina crossed her arms over her chest. “Remind me never to take a job like Ryan’s.”

“Certainly not without disability insurance.”

“Oh, you are witty.” She shrugged. “I hope James doesn’t lose his temper.”

“Be careful. Your heart is showing.” Deidre wagged a finger at her.

“I’m going on Fred’s recommendation. Fred likes him, and I like Fred.”

“Hey, girlfriend, this is Deidre here. Don’t forget, I know the bottom line.”

Thursday, 10:15 a.m
.

Ryan realized he’d stepped into dangerous territory when he agreed to ride with James on the afternoon calls. From his past dealings with employees who openly displayed hostility, Ryan believed James’s problem was gut-wrenching fear. Some men clothed themselves with a macho image in times of distress instead of seeking out answers to the problems that affected their ego.

When he first read James’s file and saw his qualifications and his outstanding record, Ryan wanted to keep him on board. But the man’s belligerent attitude had to change, or James would be gone by Monday morning. Threats and accusations might work in the pool hall, but not in the business world where upper management called the shots.

James stood outside his van with a couple of other servicemen. From the venom-tipped darts the man’s eyes aimed at Ryan, he gathered the afternoon would be either incredibly long or incredibly short. James still hadn’t given him an answer about whether he planned to use his skills and leadership abilities or hit the road. Ryan should have forced his hand the day James cornered him in the break room. Instead he let it ride, and nothing had been resolved. Not good in the management department.

Ryan greeted the other men, then turned to James without waiting for a response. “I’m ready if you are.”

James failed to reply but moved toward the driver’s side of the van. “You men have work to do. Get at it.” He laughed and waved.

Once inside the van, Ryan took out a clipboard. “Am I being tested?”

He managed a laugh for James’s benefit. “I already know your abilities. This is for me to evaluate any differences between the ways Flash and Neon personnel handle service calls. You may have a procedure that we need to incorporate or the other way around.”

“I’m not rude to customers, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Nice added touch
. “Fred respects the work you do. If customers complained, he wouldn’t have kept you working for the past five years.”

“So it
is
a test.”
Caustic
best described James’s tone.

Ryan ignored him. No point in fueling an argument. They bumped down the street, hitting every pothole. He refused to complain. Framed children’s photos attached to pieces of leather swung back and forth from the rearview mirror.

“Those are your children?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah. Have four of them.”

“How old are they?”

“Jonathon’s eight, Jarrod’s seven, Jenna’s five, and Jason’s three.”

Ryan hadn’t asked for names. Maybe he could get inside James’s heart through his kids, and they were a good-looking bunch. The older boy posed with a ball. “So the oldest plays soccer?”

“And Jenna, although Jarrod is more interested in baseball and piano.”

“That’s a different combination.”
What a breakthrough. He’s talking to me
.

“My wife wants them to be exposed to everything. Whatever they’re good at will help when it comes around to college scholarship time.”

So James cared about his family. They weren’t rug rats or liabilities, but his children. “And education is expensive,” Ryan said. “I had a few grants, but mostly I worked my way through.”

“I took you for the family-money kind of guy.”

Ryan shook his head. “Nope, my parents were blue-collar workers who instilled in us the value of learning.”

“Are you saying something’s wrong with blue-collar people?”

Great, here it comes: animosity barreling down the field
. “Not at all. I’m proud of my folks. They helped me see the value of hard work.”

The van pulled to a stop in front of a home. “Look, I’m not into small talk or swapping family stories, especially with someone I don’t like. But I have a job to do and a family to support.”

“I understand.”

“I doubt it. What I’m saying is you wanted my cooperation, and I’ll give it.”

“Thank you.”

“No need. This is for Fred. He gave me a job and trained me when no one else was interested.”

“I’ll be blunt here. You have the know-how to keep the service department running smoothly. I’d like to recommend Neon keep you on as foreman of the crew, but I have to see for myself that you’re willing to cooperate with the ones running the show.”

“Fair enough, but I don’t have to like you.”

“I’m not asking for flowers and candy, just respect and a good day’s work.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Ryan felt like he’d made a little headway. “And for the record, Neon pays for employees who want to continue their education as long as it will benefit their current job. They also give out thousands of dollars in college scholarships to employees’ kids.”

James opened his door. “Is all that in a handbook somewhere?”

“Yes, and also online.”

“I don’t have computer skills, and I hear Neon keeps all of their service calls there. Maybe I could take a class on that.” James peered at him. “Don’t be blowing smoke about any of this. You might have some of the other folks on your side, but I’m not easily convinced.”

“Trust takes time.”

“So does raising kids.”

Thursday, 8:30 p.m
.

Alina switched off the vacuum, unplugged it, and wound the cord around the handle. Housecleaning done for another week. She snatched up the furniture polish and tucked it under her arm along with the dust cloth as she pushed the vacuum to the closet.
My whole apartment smells yummy-lemon and sparkles with a dust-free sheen
. She smiled.
Maybe I should consider going into television and doing commercials
.

She glanced around at the eclectic collection of antiques and sleek contemporary designs mixed with vibrant reds and bright yellows. A room to fit her every mood. Most of the time, she grappled with which mood fit her that day.

At the moment her stomach growled for food. Some days she overloaded on coffee, chocolate, and peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, and other days she ate like a Victorian lady with dainty amounts of healthful, no-nonsense food. At this very moment, a can of tomato soup with sprinkles of basil and a heavy dose of garlic croutons sounded very appetizing.

After washing her hands, she reached for the can of soup and the opener from a drawer that was in dire need of organization. Tomorrow night she’d tackle the clutter. Right now, she simply wanted to relax.

How exciting. She planned to clean drawers on a Friday night. Unfortunately, her life had been like this for the past six years. No hope for a man to fill her dreams; she had responsibilities a man would never understand.

Alina took a deep breath and flipped on the radio. She refused to start in with the woe-is-me list. A knock at the door surprised her. She made her way to the door and took a glimpse through the peephole, then flung it open.

“Hi, Deidre. Come on in. What brings you in from the farm?”

She laughed and held up a plastic-covered dish. “This is Thursday, cleaning night, and you normally don’t eat until about now.”

“Vietnamese food?” Alina lifted the lid. The aroma of vegetables was intoxicating. “Oh, this is heavenly.”

“It’s still warm, so grab a fork. I have a few minutes before Clay goes nuts getting the kids bathed and ready for bed. He’s been on the tractor all day.”

Alina grinned. “And to think I was about to open a can of soup.”

“Well, I have another reason for being here. I wanted to see the English washstand you just bought.”

“It’s in my bathroom. Take a look and I’ll get you a glass of iced tea.” She pulled out a couple of glasses and opened the fridge.

“It’s beautiful,” Deidre called. “And it fits in here nicely.”

“Thanks. I got it for a good price.”

Deidre reappeared in the kitchen. She tilted her head. Confusion etched lines in her face. “Alina, I have a question.”

“Sure, fire away—and no, you can’t have my washstand.”

“Maybe this is none of my business.”

Deidre’s concern nudged Alina’s conscience. “Go ahead. Bringing me Vietnamese food entitles you to ask anything.”

“Has Ryan’s picture always been on your dresser?”

Alina startled. Why hadn’t she remembered to put the picture of them away? “Ah … no. I found it in my closet the other day and forgot to put it back.”

“Let’s sit down and talk.” Deidre pointed to the sofa. “This is your girlfriend here, and besides bringing you dinner, I want to have a heart-to-heart talk about your problem with Ryan.”

With anyone else Alina would have danced around the situation and laughed off any implications of her feelings for Ryan. But this was Deidre. “All right, but can I eat while we talk?”

Deidre eased into an antique rocker. “Sure, but don’t use your fingers. It’s not polite, and I don’t want you fainting from lack of food.” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “Seriously, have you noticed the way Ryan looks at you?”

Alina’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Sometimes I twist around in my chair to see what’s happening in your office. At first it was to make sure you two weren’t killing each other, but now it’s to see how many times I can find Ryan staring at your back.”

Alina sat on the edge of her sofa. “He’s probably concentrating on something.”

“My point exactly.”

Alina waved her fork. “You’re seeing things. Besides, I’m very careful to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong impression. Oh, this is good.” Her heart thumped against her chest. Was Deidre right?

“Alina, what happens when the others notice, too?”

“That bad? I mean, I don’t want to be rude.” Alina leaned back on the sofa. She couldn’t hide the turmoil any longer. “What am I to do? Are you sure he’s staring at me?’

“There’s a look a man gives a woman when they are working together professionally. There’s also a look of admiration a man gives a woman from time to time. There’s also a look a man can give that deserves a slap. Then there’s the look of a man in love—and he can’t disguise it. Ryan is as much in love with you as you are with him.”

“Since when did you become an expert on love?”

“I was born a woman.”

The impact of Deidre’s words gave Alina’s stomach a funny little flip. “No matter what you think you saw, nothing can come of it.”

“Why? Did he betray you in college and now you can’t forgive him or trust him?”

Alina set the food on the coffee table in front of her. “He never gave me a reason not to trust him. It’s Anna. I can’t ask a man to share me with my mentally challenged sister. She’s my responsibility. What if I married and my husband wanted children? I couldn’t get pregnant, because then I’d have to quit my job or take a leave of absence. Who would pay for Anna’s care?”

Deidre stood and walked across the room. When she faced Alina again, her eyes moistened. “You’re denying yourself and any potential husband happiness because of money? Alina, aren’t you doubting God in this? If you trust Him with your soul, why not trust Him to provide for Anna?”

A wave of sickness swept over her. She swallowed hard. “Believe me, this problem is complicated, and parts of it are real … ugly. Walking away from love is my lot in life. Once this transition is completed, Ryan will be gone and I’ll be able to deal with life again.”

“But you love a good, Christian man, and I believe he loves you. Would you simply pray about the situation? Ask God what He wants for your life?”

Alina nodded. If she verbally agreed to Deidre’s request, she’d get blubbery and embarrass herself. “I have. Many times. But I promise you, I’ll go to Him again.”

Deidre sat down by Alina and took her hand. “Don’t you find it more than a quirk of circumstance that he is at Flash, working alongside you? I don’t know about you, but I don’t believe in coincidence or luck. This is at the hand of God, and for some reason I can’t help believing it’s for you two to be together.”