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She grins back, turning her wedding band on her finger as if my smile means she should consider taking it off. I’m aware that quite a few employees have expressed their determination to get me to break my fraternizing rule. Surely she isn’t one of them.
“I have to find Frank.” Her voice is a rush. “My husband. Of twenty-four years.”
I bite back another smile as she backs up, almost tripping on the carpet.
“Thank you for these, Gloria.” I hold up the binders. Then I shut the door.
I don’t get it. I behave like a roaring curmudgeon at work in order to keep a suitable distance between me and the female employees, but I swear it has the opposite effect.
It’s taxing, reining myself in like I do. I’m a ridiculous flirt in the off hours. It’s essential, however, that I keep my dating life completely separate from work.
And preferably private. I wouldn’t like any exploits getting back to Dougherty Inc. Thankfully, I’m not prominent enough to ever make gossip columns, not like my brother Axel. After the half-billion-dollar sale of a hiking app, he became notorious and couldn’t sneeze on a woman without some rag writing a story about it.
Axel lets me know when there are big events at the castle near him, and often my other brother Court and I will fly there and cut loose while far from our home bases.
Maybe I’m due for one of those jaunts.
But first, to get through this one.
I review the itinerary. We set sail shortly with a bon voyage champagne toast, which isn’t highlighted. Then there is mustering, which is a mandatory safety lesson involving the lifeboats.
Then there’s a poolside welcome party, which is highlighted. Gloria has written “Speech!” in the margin.
Sometimes I think it’s unfortunate that the Dougherty of Dougherty Inc. isn’t an actual person. But if Uncle Sherman wants this company to function outside of the Pickle enterprises, I have to honor his wishes and keep him out of it.
And that means a poolside speech.
I plunk down into the chair. The days are planned within an inch of their lives. Karaoke, thankfully not highlighted. Sunset serenade with a live band. A midnight buffet. Then tomorrow we reach a small private island owned by Blue Sapphire. Pristine beaches and solitude from the entire world.
Highlighted.
Damn.
I set the list aside and boot up my machine. I only have half an hour until mustering, and I’d like to make a dent in these figures before I’m interrupted by my duties.
And then what ought to be a party, but cannot and will not be one for me, will commence.
And mercifully, none of the activities I will endure this weekend will involve my former assistant, Bailey Johansson.
3
BAILEY
Isit on the bed, awaiting my fate.
But then I hear Viola. She’s talking in the flirting register, a full half-octave higher than normal. The gossip tone, for reference, is lower than usual.
She and Rhett have a conversation right outside my door. Sweat sprouts along my hairline. Will he mention me? Ask her if I’m here somehow?
But he only explains he’s on another floor and excuses himself.
I let out a long breath.
Viola sounds put out when she says, “He didn’t even notice my outfit!”
Kenna is with her. “He never compliments anyone’s outfits.”
“He didn’t even look me over!”
