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Maybe because she was confused.
She wanted to hate him… but she didn’t.
“Fine,” she said, stretching out a hand. “We’ll agree to be polite to one another. That’s all I got.”
Graham looked at her hand. “Just polite? Seems cold.”
“Really?” Tess said, dropping her hand. “What do you expect? We work for rival companies and our ‘relationship’ lasted for all of twelve hours.”
“Thirteen,” he said, reaching forward and picking up the hand she’d dropped.
Oh, she knew exactly how long they’d spent together that night nearly two months ago—thirteen hours, eight minutes. Something about his knowing, too, plinked a few heartstrings.
Graham studied her hand clasped between his. “I’m sorry, Tess. I don’t know how much more I can say it to you. I guess I can’t. I’ll see you around.” He released her hand and turned toward the store where Emily stood inside waving, a huge, loving smile on her face.
Tess waved back to the child and headed back to Upstart, her step heavy as her heart. She wanted the heaviness to leave. She wanted to be happy again.
But life wasn’t always happy, was it? Life held as many tears and as much loneliness as it did hugs and belonging. Tess had just skidded into that other fifty percent for maybe the first time in her life… and it pretty much sucked.
Monique met her at the front door, carrying a pink duffel bag. “Where’s Emily?”
“With her father. Her drink spilled and he went to get her another.”
“Uh, he’s been spoiling her.”
“That’s what daddies do,” Tess said, sliding past the woman and reentering the warehouse.
“Tess?” Monique called, turning toward her. “I’m glad you’re here at Upstart.”
Unexpected words delivered by a tough-as-nails woman. Tess still couldn’t read Monique—they’d only spent two weeks together. Still, the words did what they were intended to do. “It’s been hard for me, but I’m determined to carve my niche here.”
“Good. We want you happy. Happy Tess means happy Upstart.”
Tess wouldn’t go as far to say “happy” but she nodded anyway. “I’m going to run by Edward Mendez’s offices and drop off the corrected sketches, and hopefully I’ll have my vision for Oedipus ready by Monday.”
“Good. And don’t forget we have drinks with the Rivera brothers on Monday afternoon. The Prometheus account isn’t as big as the others, but they’ve been with me for several years. I want them to meet you.”
Right. Dog-and-pony show. The Ullo name hard at work again. Well, at least Monique hadn’t lied to her about her reasons for hiring her… or done anything behind her back like Tess’s father had. If Tess hadn’t been an Ullo and hadn’t the connections she had with the krewes, she wouldn’t be working for Monique right now.
Sometimes honesty sucked. Maybe she’d rather have smoke blown up her skirt and be told how great she was at designing floats. Or maybe she’d have to earn that designation.
Carving a niche wasn’t as easy as Tess had hoped.
FRANKULLOLOOKEDdown the table at his family. It had been three weeks since Easter Sunday. Two and a half weeks since he started the experimental drugs that had ravaged his body. He’d lost nearly ten pounds and looked like something the dog had barfed up.
“Dad, you don’t look good at all,” Frankie Jr. said, not bothering to stop shoveling Maggie’s lasagna into his mouth. His wife, Laurie, wasn’t much of a cook, so every Sunday Frankie approached lunch like a man who’d spent twenty years in a third-world prison.
“Hush, now,” Maggie said, sliding her eyes to Frank and giving him a small nod.
Frank looked down at where Tess sat studying the food on her plate. They hadn’t spoken since she’d left that Easter day, and frankly, he was so angry at her for quitting Ullo and working for Upstart, he didn’t want to talk to her… especially since he felt so damn weak and helpless. His daughter should be ashamed to even sit at the table, eating the food Frank Ullo bought.
Graham had said a lot of things about making peace with Tess, but Frank wasn’t ready to do that just yet. Tess had purposely poked a stick at him… and the damn thing was sharp. He wasn’t saying anything to her. He didn’t care what anyone else thought.
Maggie kept staring at him. She wanted him to tell them all about why he looked like death. Something other than the “I’m a bit under the weather” he’d been using with everyone he saw over the past week.
“Your father has something he wants to tell all of you,” Maggie said, setting down her fork and giving him a final “get on with it” look.
“Let everyone finish their food, woman.”
