Head Over Heels (6 page)

His jaw tightened but he didn't reply, which told Marielle that she'd probably said the wrong thing. His SUV was in pristine condition, even though it was a few years old. Marielle's car, on the other hand, showed its age. She did care about her car and other personal property being in good condition and looking good—just not at the expense of what was really important, which was other people. Learning how to tutor the teens and being able to provide a few meals for the group was far more important than having a flat roof on her car. Besides, the dent wasn't bad unless she really looked at it—which she never did.

She turned toward him and watched him in profile as he drove. “While we're talking about that, I was
wondering if anything has come back yet, if you've been able to remember anything.”

“No, but since we're on the subject, I was thinking you might be able to tell me something that might jog a few memory cells. Can you tell me what you saw, and if you heard anything beforehand? Anything odd or out of place that would indicate what happened?”

“I didn't see or hear a thing. I had just picked up my ringing cell phone, which was why I pulled into the driveway and out of traffic. But there is something I thought was odd, now that you mention it. After you slid off the roof and landed on the hood, I ran out to keep you from falling onto the ground. I remember looking up, and now that I know exactly where your office is, I saw a woman's head stick out of your office window. That should have been normal, considering what happened, but I thought then that it seemed a long time before someone actually came out of the building to see what happened. Then, after the policeman had asked all his questions, the people you work with were outside, gathered together, standing around in shock after the ambulance left. But the woman who stuck her head out the window wasn't there. I thought if she was the first one to see that you'd fallen out, she should have been the first one down. She wasn't. She didn't even come outside. Unless she went outside after I left.”

“There are only a few women who work in the office—it's mostly men. Can you describe her?”

“I was looking up into the bright sky, so I didn't see her very clearly, and she was up on the third floor. All
I could tell was that she had dark hair and was wearing a yellow top.”

“Was she wearing glasses?”

“No.”

“Then it was either Brenda or Jessie.”

“I wish I could tell you more.”

“Well, thanks anyway.” The church came into view. “Here we are. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I'll ever be.”

Nothing more was said until they were sitting side by side at Russ's old computer, which appeared to be newer and had more memory than the rest of them. After he showed her the basics of the program everyone was anxious to learn, he gave her some assignments to do herself, which helped her understand the fine points. While she worked at the computer, instead of sitting beside her to watch, Russ picked up the drill and made four holes in the second table in preparation for the next batch of computers coming on Monday. As promised, they stopped when she felt she'd had enough.

On their way out the door, Marielle's stomach grumbled. Her cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but to Russ's credit, he didn't laugh.

“Want to grab a couple of burgers on the way back to your place?” he asked.

She assumed when he referred to more than one burger that he intended for them to eat together, which surprised her.

He also drove more quickly once they picked the burgers up, saying he didn't want them to get cold. She
hadn't expected him to make the extra effort and was pleasantly surprised. The burgers were still warm by the time they were seated in her kitchen.

Before taking a bite, Marielle folded her hands and rested them on the table. “I always pause to pray before I eat. Will you join me?”

“Go ahead. I'll just listen.”

Contrary to his claim, he did bow his head and close his eyes, which Marielle found comforting.

“Dear Lord, thank you for this food, and for the day Russ and I could spend together to learn. Amen.”

“Amen,” he responded.

Marielle bit back a smile. He had done more than just listen, which she found both encouraging and curious.

She ignored her burger and fries, thunked her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her closed fists. “A couple of the girls have asked me what you look like without that bandage on your nose. I have to admit that the first time I saw you I had other things to think about, so I can't really remember what you look like without it. When does it come off?”

Russ's cheeks darkened, which Marielle thought quite endearing. He lowered his eyes and stared at his burger, also untouched.

“Friday. And I can tell you I'm counting the days. It may sound vain, but I want to know what I'm going to look like, too.”

Brittany's comments about Russ probably being a “real hottie” echoed in her head. She tried to block it from her mind while she lowered her arms and began to eat. “When are you going back to work?”

Russ began to eat, as well, talking between bites. “Wednesday. That's why I put the holes in the tables today. I just have to get everything running, and I'll be done. If you still need some help learning the programs, I can come down after work.”

“Thanks for the offer. I appreciate it.”

“Jason seems like he has a good focus, more so than the other kids…er, I mean teens.”

“Yes. He still needs to decide what he wants to do as a career, but he certainly loves computers. He types really fast, too.”

“They don't call it typing anymore. They call it ‘keyboarding.'”

“Right. And they don't call your speed ‘words per minute' anymore. It's just ‘keystrokes.'”

Russ told her a bit more about current computer trends and terminology, then stood. “I know you had plans that you cancelled. I think I'll go now so you call your friend back and see if you can still meet up.”

She stared into his eyes, above the white bandage that still covered his nose. There was no hint of anything except honesty in them, and his question. Strangely even though at first she hadn't really wanted to spend the afternoon with him, she now was in no rush to go separate ways.

“Will I see you tomorrow morning?” The words were out of her mouth before she was thinking of what she was asking.

For an almost indiscernable second, he hesitated. “No. You won't. I'll see you Monday.”

R
uss found Marielle inside one of the closets Monday afternoon. “Marielle? What are you doing?”

She backed out, holding a couple of large bags. “I was just looking for more construction paper.”

“I was going to ask you how the preschool class went at Sunday school. Why does it sound like you're doing it again next week?”

“Because I am. But at least this time I have more adequate notice. Do you need some help bringing in the rest of the computers?”

“They're still at the office. I called Grant, and he said he's going to be bringing them himself. He should be here any minute.”

As if saying it made it so, Grant appeared in the doorway. “Russ? Marielle? Are you in here?”

“Here!” they called at the same time.

“Are you ready?” Grant asked, without moving
inside. “A few of the boys just got here and they're starting to unload my car.”

Russ joined Grant at the door. “They can set them on that table, and they already know where to position them. Do you see what I've done to the other table?”

Grant nodded, telling Russ that he was impressed at how Russ had secured the first set of computers, and that the other table was ready for the second set. “Good work. I knew you were the right man for the job.”

“Maybe so, but it's time for me to get back to my real job.”

Grant turned to face Russ. “Unfortunately, there's been a complication.”

“Complication?”

“Jessie still hasn't come in, she hasn't called, and her voice-mail box is full. Not only that, Byron told me that his funding has been put on hold for another project, and he requested that we put this on the back burner for at least a couple of months.”

“That doesn't make sense. The last time I talked to him, he was pushing to have it done ahead of schedule.”

“Whether it makes sense or not, that's the way it is. By the way, have you heard from Jessie? It isn't like her to behave this way. The only reason I know that she's not dead is that Tyler saw her downtown on the weekend. He said she waved at him as he was going up the escalator and she was going down, just like it was any normal day. He says he ran around and went back down, but by the time he got there, she was gone. Have you got any ideas? This all started the day of your accident.”

Russ tried to think of a reason why Jessie might seem
to be hiding, except at the same time, be in plain sight. “I haven't got a clue. I still can't remember what happened, much less why. But I have a question for you. Do you remember what Jessie or Brenda was wearing that day?”

Grant crossed his arms over his chest. “You're kidding me, right?”

“I wish I was. Marielle said she saw a woman with dark hair and a yellow shirt poke her head out my window after I fell. She also said that she saw everyone from the office outside after the ambulance left, and that woman wasn't in the crowd.”

“Brenda was with me when the ambulance took you away. But now that you mention it, Jessie wasn't with the rest of us. When we all got back up to the office, she wasn't there, either. I just assumed she got so shaken up that she went home, and that she didn't tell anyone because we were all outside.”

“So Jessie was in my office when I fell.” Russ tried to remember what they might have talked about that day, but all he recalled was working on their client's project together, and getting frustrated with a glitch in his computer. He definitely couldn't remember what he was doing at the window.

The dizziness grew into a full-blown headache.

He pressed his fingers to his temples. “I can't remember what happened, but I just have a very strong feeling that this all has something to do with Jessie. And now that I know she was with me, at the very least she must have seen something. I really don't know how it's possible for me to just fall out the window. I go to that
window and stick my head out for a breath of fresh air all the time.” However, right now just the thought of sticking his head out the window brought on an almost dreamlike, terrifying sensation of falling, and with it, the headache pounded harder.

“Russ? Are you okay?”

“That headache is coming back again. I just need a couple of minutes and it will pass.”

Grant's face tightened as he frowned. “I wasn't sure before, but I'm sure now. Between the recurring side effects of the concussion and because you still can't remember anything, I'm putting you on stress leave for a month. You work on all my most sensitive projects, so I need you to be at one hundred percent. You're not coming back to work until you've had time to relax and the headaches have stopped.”

The headache increased to migraine proportions. “I can't be off for a month. I have so much to do!”

“No, you don't. You don't have anything important on your schedule because we'd cleared your calendar to allow you to work exclusively on Byron's project, and now it's cancelled.”

“But…” He'd never been off work for more than a week's vacation. The concept of being off for a month was unthinkable.

He'd been working extra hard to get Byron's project done not one week, but two weeks ahead of schedule. He knew that Grant was looking to open up a new vice presidency, and Russ wanted the job. Completing one of the largest contracts in the history of the company
ahead of a client's rush schedule would make him a shoo-in for the position.

Being on stress leave would not only stop him from completing the project, but take him out of the picture completely—the only time Grant would think of him was when Grant looked at his empty desk in his empty office. Russ knew that none of Grant's other employees could adequately fulfill his responsibilities or be dedicated enough to do all the extra work that was expected. Yet, if Russ wasn't there, he would be out of sight and out of mind. He feared that Grant might select the best of the staff available at the time for the promotion. If Russ wasn't there, it wouldn't be him.

“I think my time would be better spent helping everyone else with the current projects.”

“I've been thinking about that all weekend, and especially all day today. I don't think that's true. You know I'm expanding the company, and right now, I need more exposure. The best advertising is word of mouth. If we can show the community, and then the city at large, how we put something back into the community, then we'll be on people's minds and they're more likely to think of us first. I know you're thinking that you won't know what to do with yourself if you're not at your desk working, but I have an idea. Instead of putting you on medical benefits, I'll keep you on full salary and I want you to spend your time here, at the youth center. It will bring us good PR.”

Russ gulped. “Here?”

“Yes. Working here with the kids and teaching them how to use those programs will be a lot less stressful
than being bombarded with everyone else's deadlines at the office. You need some time off, but I know you. You won't be content to rest at home. You need something to do, so I want you to work here. It will be a good move for both of us.”

The headache stabbed through Russ's brain with such intensity that he thought he might vomit. He swallowed hard and sucked in a deep breath of air.

“It would be better if I was at the office. Why don't you send someone else here. Like Tyler?”

“Because Tyler doesn't need to take a break from the fast pace of meeting deadlines. Tyler needs to learn how to work with deadlines, and meet them. Like you do. I know I can always count on you to do what I need. And right now, I need some good PR, and this is an open door.”

Russ forced himself to remain silent while a million thoughts ran through his head. He saw too much of his old life in Marielle's teens, and in this neighborhood. Years ago he had vowed he would never go back, that he would only move forward with his life. And he
was
moving forward with his life. He'd found a good employer. Grant knew how hard Russ worked, and appreciated it. Grant also often gave Russ the hardest jobs because he knew Russ could handle them. And Russ did handle them.

But this was asking too much.

Still, Grant didn't know anything about where Russ had come from. According to Grant, he was just another guy from the suburbs. Grant judged him on what he was like now, not the insolent sewer-rat he'd once been. And what Russ was now was a loyal and dedicated employee.

He couldn't do anything to show Grant otherwise, because right now the key to getting the vice presidency was his willingness to put any program in motion that Grant desired, as long as it wasn't underhanded or illegal. Providing equipment and tutoring at an underprivileged teen center for a limited amount of time was far from either of those.

“Okay,” Russ reluctantly agreed. “I'll do it.

Grant rubbed his hands together. “Great. I knew I could count on you.”

“Yeah,” Russ mumbled, hoping he looked more enthusiastic than he felt. He glanced at Marielle, who was openly staring at him, her eyes big and wide. He wondered if she was as surprised as he was that he was staying.

“It looks like they've got everything inside. I have to get back to the office. We'll be in touch,” said Grant.

Russ watched in silence as Grant walked to his car and drove off. Then he turned to Marielle. “It looks like now we've got all the time we're going to need to sit down and show you how to use those programs properly. Since I'll be here, I can even help the teens myself for a while, if they need it.”

“I'm sure they will. Most of them are pretty smart, but it takes a while to break down their defenses enough to get them to show it. It's more important for them to look cool and not act nerdy or geeky—” Suddenly, her face paled, then her cheeks flushed a brilliant red.

Russ gave her a half smile. “I'm not sure whether that's an insult or a compliment.”

“To them, it's an insult, but please, take it as a compliment to you. I try so hard to convince them that after
high school, those same geeky qualities are an asset and employers seek them.”

“They do.” Russ's computer skills and willingness to learn and advance had gotten him his job, and he hoped that what he was doing now would bring him more success in the form of a promotion. “So, that said, let's get started hooking up the rest of the computers. I've already noticed that six o'clock comes quickly.”

 

Marielle fought the strange feeling that it was odd to be alone in the church basement. Five days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, she set up the room alone—going on two years now.

Today she felt differently, and she didn't want to think why the absence of a certain shiny silver SUV in the parking lot would mean anything to her.

Russ had told her that he'd already taken off the wrapping that supported his rib cage, but she wasn't interested in seeing him without a shirt. Okay, she was a
little
interested, but today was the tenth day after Russ's accident, so this day he had finally been allowed to remove the bandage from his nose.

Today was the day she was going to see what Russ really looked like.

She walked into the closet and began pulling out the boxes containing everything she needed to set up for their usual Friday-night activities. When the door opened and someone walked in, Marielle tried to hide her disappointment that it was only Jason.

Finally Russ entered, five minutes past his usual time. Marielle stared at him, too curious to turn away.

“Sorry I'm late. I—” He stopped, halfway between her and the door, staring back at her as she stared at him. He lifted his hand and touched the bridge of his nose.

Britt was right,
Marielle thought, remembering the young girl's words. “How does it feel?” she asked.

“It feels much better without that stupid bandage. It was a little tender when the doctor poked at it, but if no one touches it, it feels fine. I'd hoped it wouldn't be the case, but there is a bump. The doctor said that sometimes it just happens. The important thing is that my nose is straight.”

Marielle tipped her head just a little and studied him. She'd thought Russ was a handsome man even with the white bandage obscuring part of his face. He was, and she wondered why there wasn't a lineup of women following behind him. His eyes were unusual enough to attract attention, and she'd already thought the pale brown mixed with olive green and gold was a good match to his light brown hair. But now that she could see him as a complete picture, she was stunned.

His high cheekbones accented his rather prominent nose, which she assumed had been perfectly straight before. There was a small bump at the bridge, but the surgeons had done a good job on the realignment. The bump would have looked natural if she hadn't known the nose had recently been broken.

But Britt was right. She imagined perfectly what he would look like, the day she called him a “hottie.” The little bump made him look slightly dangerous, even daring, which didn't fit with the Russ who sat behind the desk at his computer all day and every day, in his
third-floor office downtown. So far she'd only seen him in casual business attire, khaki or dress pants, and always a button-down shirt.

She wondered what he would look like in snug jeans and a T-shirt, wearing dark sunglasses and a baseball cap, on backward.

Marielle shook her head. The image of Russ dressing like one of the boys in her youth group was absurd. Besides, she wasn't attracted to the bad-boy type. Then again, she was no longer attracted to the nose-to-the-grindstone corporate type, either.

The type of man she
should
be attracted to was somewhere in the middle. She just hadn't met him yet.

Russ started walking again, straight to his old computer, which she thought rather amusing. Every day, he bypassed the original two old dinosaur computers, the four other computers Grant had brought the previous week, and the four other computers Grant had brought on Monday. Every day, Russ went straight for the same computer, the one that used to be his own.