Off the Rails (9 page)

Kevin giggled, looking like he’d just gotten laid by the Goddess of Printouts. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

Why bother lying? “No. I didn’t.”

Still giggling, Kevin walked off, leaving Madison alone with her most unfortunate new information.

Chapter Seven

Kiss and Tell?

Thursday night, Madison found herself in the middle of a mess.

The night started out well enough. Madison, wearing her favorite jeans and sporting perfectly straight hair, got to Otto’s early enough to get a table with a view of the door, so she could make a point of looking busy when Scottie the Hottie got there. It would have worked, but when he walked in he looked so cute she forgot to look away.

“Hey,” he said, swinging into the seat across from her.

“Hey,” she said back, smiling.

About the time she thought maybe they were going to start nodding at each other again, he pointed to the bar. “Two for one shots. How’s that sound?”

“Great.”

And things were great—for a while. Until too many shots later, Madison found herself slumped across Scottie’s fake leather couch, mumbling, struggling to push herself upright, and trying to find her cell so she could call Tia to come rescue her from the nasty stupidity she’d gotten herself into.

The beginning of the night was crystal clear. They’d met up at Otto’s and immediately starting doing shots. The middle of the night was pretty clear. Scottie convinced Madison to do karaoke, and he’d helped her pick out the best songs. She’d done great and everyone at the bar loved her. Whatever happened after she’d gotten off the stage, that was a
bit
blurry.

She’d left her car in Clifton, sang as she and Scottie walked to his place, then agreed to something about Carly. Like maybe that she didn’t care if Carly came over?

Obviously, she’d passed out and missed a couple key transitions, because Scottie was sprawled over his plaid La-Z-Boy chair, naked except for his tan socks, while Carly, also naked, entertained herself by licking his amazingly rigid cock.

Was it possible for a man to be passed out and still have a hard-on?

Carly didn’t look like she cared that Scottie was as enthusiastic as a rag doll.

Wasn’t there some ethical thing about using a subordinate co-worker like that?

Madison squeezed her eyes shut, praying that the aberration before her would magically vanish, but no amount of heartfelt wishing or spiritual pleading seemed to matter. When she lifted her lids again, that damn woman was still there, sucking and licking Scottie’s towering shaft.

Unfortunately, Carly spotted Madison’s bleary gaze and mistook it for interest.

“Come on over, sweetheart,” she murmured, smiling. “His cock is big enough for both of us.”

That was the last thing Madison remembered before blacking out again.

* * * *

Hours later, Madison sagged against the back of the elevator and prayed that her stomach would settle at least enough so that she wouldn’t have to puke in the bathroom.

After pausing at the hall mirror to be sure she didn’t actually look as green as she felt, Madison cautiously zigzagged between the cubicles only to find Kevin sitting in her chair. “Cutting it pretty close, aren’t you? If you got here three minutes from now, you’d be late.”

“That means I’m on time, doesn’t it?”

Kevin didn’t appreciate her sassy response. “If you consider coming in at the last minute on time, then I suppose you’re on time.”

Realizing she was making things more difficult on herself, she tried a belated smile. Kevin wasn’t buying. She swayed forward. He stood up and stared down at her. If she’d felt well enough to be intimidated, it might have worked. “Ms. Holmes wants you.”

Crap. One of the two people she least wanted to be in the same room with.

Ever again.

“Okay.”

He squinted. “Why does she want to see you?”

Madison felt her face get hot. “Um…err… I don’t know.” She tried the smile again. “Don’t you know?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his gray pants. “She didn’t tell me.” He tipped his head toward the back hall. “You better not keep her waiting. If it’s bad, it might be worse by the time you get there. And, if by some crazy chance it actually is good, she may change her mind if you show up late.”

When she stepped back, he suddenly grabbed her arm. “Remember. Don’t mess with me—I’m the keeper of the numbers.”

Madison managed to not roll her eyes. “Whatever.”

Ms. Holmes’ secretary wasn’t at her desk, so the only thing for Madison to do, other than chicken out, was to march over to the door marked ‘Ms. Holmes’ and knock. The command to come in came before Madison’s arm dropped down.

The boss lady’s office was mid-twentieth century modern done to tacky perfection. The only explanation for the insanely perfect array of plastic was that Ms. Holmes had a teenage daughter who was addicted to eBay. The girl must have moved on from Hello Kitty to Hello Expensive, passing all the hand-me-downs to Mommy Dearest in the process.

Seated at her desk, Ms. Holmes looked a hell of a lot different than she had last night. For one thing, she had her clothes on. Pointing to one of the vintage yellow plastic chairs positioned across from her desk, she said, “Have a seat.”

Madison did.

“Look around,” the boss lady said, waving her arm in an arch.

The chair squeaked when Madison shifted and pretended to be taking her first really good look. There was a pale wood bookshelf filled with a collection of crazy shaped, orange plastic vases, a tall floor lamp with bendable arm things, each with its own light, and two wire mesh chairs by a window covered with some kind of organic-looking cloth.

“Like it?” Carly asked, gesturing to the furnishings.

Truth first then the lie. “It…wasn’t what I was expecting, but I do like it.”

Ms. Holmes smiled. “I like to watch the expression on people’s faces the first time they walk in. I should videotape it. It would be funny. I could load them on YouTube.”

Eww.

What else did she like to videotape?

Shit.

And put on the Net?

Madison waited while Ms. Holmes reveled in her ability to shock unsuspecting employees. “Promise you won’t tell anyone else, anyone who hasn’t been in here, what it looks like. Okay?”

Too weird. “Sure. No problem.”

“Great.”

Ms. Holmes leaned back, happy with herself and her collection of what used to be somebody’s crap they got stuck with because somebody else had died.

“You want to know why I want to see you, I bet.”

Madison crossed her legs and tried to look casual. “Sure.”

Please God, don’t let her say anything about last night.

“I noticed your numbers
might
be improving.” She opened a folder and took out a single sheet of paper. A spreadsheet no doubt. “See here,” she said, using one glossy red nail to point to the numbers from the one morning when Madison decided to forget about Scottie and actually do work.

“Err…um…”

“It isn’t unusual for me to see this sort of thing, possible improvement. You must be”—she licked her lips—”among other things…smart.”

While Madison’s stomach clenched, the woman took a minute to laugh at her own joke, and set the sheet down. “We have an opening in our special teams unit. It’s for a fast learner. Someone who has drive and initiative. I’m hoping that’s you. I want to recommend you for the spot. What do you think? Do you feel special?”

Special.

Hmmm.

“Would it be a promotion?” Madison asked.

Ms. Holmes arched back, tilting her retro office chair onto two legs. “Not right away. You’d be a
junior
member of the team. If they—
and I
—like what I get, then yes, you’d get a promotion.”

Speechless for once, Madison stared at the corner of the boss lady’s desk.

“I need your answer today. The spot has to be filled. I’m sure you understand.”

“Um…what does the special teams unit do?”

“Special things.” Carly tilted her head back and laughed, then pulled some other papers from the file. “Here’s the job description. It doesn’t say much because basically the team members do whatever I tell them to do. The projects change quickly and end suddenly. I use the teams for my special needs.” She laughed again and slid the papers over to Madison. “You’d be on Scottie’s team.”

* * * *

Later, seated on one of the cozy couches at The Vine, Madison told Tia the whole story of the nasty sex debacle. Tia had listened patiently all the way through, then asked, “What’d she say when you said no to being on her
special
team?”

“‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.
Poor performance
. Kevin will back me up. You can clean out your desk now, in front of everyone, or you can come back tonight, after nine, and do it while the cleaning crew is here. Either way you get an escort from security. Your choice about the time, though. Now? Or later?’”

Tia didn’t even bother trying to hold back her laughter. “Poor performance. That can mean a lot of things.”

Madison tapped her bag of desk crap with her foot, smiled weakly, and said, “Yeah, but she who arranges severance in exchange for divulging stupid secret plans has the last laugh.” With that, she tucked the hefty check she’d talked Ms. Holmes out of in exchange for the little she knew about Kevin’s stupid secret plan into her purse.

“Now that you have some money and can buy whatever amazing outfit you need to make Drew lose his mind, we can put this whole reunion stress behind us, right?”

“Fuck no. Money isn’t everything. I still have something to prove—I need the full package.”

At the mention of Drew’s name, Madison realized it had been two weeks and two days since she had talked to him. Two days was more than long enough to get started picking up where they left off. What was wrong with the guy?

Madison slid her phone over and sent Drew a Skype message.

Madison: Hey. What’s up, Taggster?

Ha, ha
. She was so funny she nearly made herself laugh. Or maybe that was stress bubbling to the surface. In either case, her mouth was starting to pucker and her eyes were getting wide. Tia noticed the change, and that feisty, I’m-about-to-give-somebody-a-hard-time look passed across her face. Madison spotted it and cut her off with a question about work, a topic Tia actually loved to talk about because she actually loved her job. It worked. Tia went off on a verbal bender, describing every detail of one of her newest accounts. About the time Tia was circling back to compare that new account to her other most recent account, a Skype notification made Madison’s phone blink.

Drew: Hey, Taggette. What’s up yourself?

Madison stared at the screen. She’d waited over two weeks for that?

Madison: I contacted everyone and have the list of preferred names just about ready.

Drew: Great. Thanks.

Madison:
(:

Drew:
How about I call you tomorrow? I have to figure something out.

Madison’s fingers hovered over the screen for several seconds before she finally just went with: Okay.

And that was the end of it.

But the disappointment lingered.

Chapter Eight

Baby Fat

“I don’t care what you say,” Madison clutched her phone to her ear, shouting over the roar of traffic as she hurried down Ash Street. “I’m doing it. If I look pregnant and happy at the reunion, everyone will assume the rest.”

Predictably enough, Tia started going on about how ridiculously Madison was behaving. But really, who could take anything Tia said seriously? Her life was so perfect, she wouldn’t know desperation if it showed up wearing a tutu and bit her in the ass.

“Don’t even bother trying to show up and stop me. You won’t make it in time. And if you do show up once I’m inside, you’ll just make a scene.”

“As if you aren’t going to make enough of a scene yourself?” On Tia’s end, a horn honked and then, after screaming something, Tia clarified, “It’s a little obvious that you aren’t pregnant, you know.”

Madison patted her flat stomach. “I’m not showing yet.”

“What are you going to tell the salesgirls at the shop?”

“I like to plan ahead. I’m excited about the baby. I heard they were having a great sale.”

“Okay,” Tia sighed. “I guess you’ve thought it through a little bit. I won’t have to turn my phone off for a couple hours, so you can call if there’s an emergency.”

Madison crossed the street and, with the shop directly in her sights, replied, “Don’t be stupid. What kind of emergency could I possibly have in a maternity shop?”

Tia muttered, “Whatever,” then clicked off.

The cute little thing who welcomed Madison into The Princess Pea did not look the least bit suspicious. In fact, she was so enthusiastic and helpful that Madison started to wonder if non-pregnant women shopping in maternity shops were a usual occurrence.

“So.” The cute little thing smiled and stared at Madison’s flat stomach. “You looking for a whole new wardrobe? Or maybe a few pieces to get you started?” Madison scanned the expanse of racks, wall displays and mom-to-be mannequins.

“Do you have anything that would be a sort of…?”

“Sexy?”

Madison blinked. “Sexy? You have sexy things in…here?”

The salesgirl took her arm and guided Madison toward the back of the shop. “This is your first, isn’t it? Well, you’re in for a treat.” Then, as though she was revealing the long-lost secret to happiness, she said, “Just because you’re expecting, and may not be the same size, doesn’t mean you don’t want to be sexy!” She waved to a back wall of lingerie and dresses, “With any of these things, you’ll feel like your old self.”

Horrified by the possibility that the cute, perky little thing actually thought Madison was expecting, she fought the urge to look down at ‘her old self’ just to be sure said self was still indeed the same non-expecting one it had been only hours ago when she got out of bed.