…
Taking an involuntary step backward, Katharine bumped into something hard. Her scream froze in her throat and as she turned she fought desperately to keep her eyes open–to see what was behind her now.
Then she felt stupid. Really stupid. She’d bumped into the wall. Her own wall that had been there for the three years she had owned the unit. With that realization, she stomped off, her wet hair trailing down her back. She jerked clothing from her closet, not stopping to think about what was on her agenda for the day or what kind of image she needed to project. Mostly she didn’t need to project “mad rage,” and that was all she concentrated on.
But she couldn’t put the suit on with her hair wet. So she stomped back into the bathroom and took her hairdryer to the offending word and cleared the entire mirror before turning the air gun on herself.
Later, Katharine figured she must have yanked out half her hair the way she had tugged at the snarls and hit it full blast with the dryer. As it was, she was lucky she was merely presentable. She was just on time, which was late for her. And she had to stop and take a moment to look down at her shoes and make sure that they matched each other and her outfit. She’d been late before, but being unsure which shoes she had on was definitely a new experience.
Allistair stood up to greet her as she came through the doorway to what she was now beginning to think of as
their
office. He smiled and the force of it knocked her back on her thankfully matching heels. That was enough to make her want to turn around, go home, and call in sick. For a brief moment she wondered if it was possible to call in sick after everyone had already seen her walk in. Could she say, “Ooops–didn’t mean to show up, that was a mistake”? Instead she found a smile to answer him with, one she hoped didn’t convey the heat that kept rushing to her face–her whole body, in fact–whenever he was in close proximity.
She had barely draped her jacket over the back of her chair when he came into her personal space. She wondered if he inhaled the scent of her when he breathed in this close, the way she did him. Then she wondered if the anger and fright from this morning had knocked her brain out of whack. Taking a deep breath to center her thoughts, she smelled him again.
Damnit.
That was not the way to calm herself. He smelled of the elements, rain and fire, wind and water. Something primal and necessary. But what was truly necessary was to listen to what he was saying and pay some actual attention for once.
He placed a short stack of files on the desk in front of her. “These are finished, but we need further research. I’ve done all I can do with the Light & Geryon databanks. I thought I might hit the library and see if I can pull up some archives or some connection between WeldLink and its parent company.”
“Who is the parent company?” Katharine wanted to smile, but her mouth didn’t want to work. It seemed her brain couldn’t do much more than sort through her actions and make sure that she was making sense while her thoughts ran everywhere but where they should be. She had formulated a fine question; all the words worked together. She was sure, even though she was still too close to this man who made her head swim.
Allistair shrugged. “That’s just it, I can’t find it anywhere. So I figured I’d check the library as a last-ditch effort.”
This time she did manage a smile. “I’ll get it.” It was just the excuse she needed. “What does WeldLink manufacture?”
Allistair looked at her. “Does it matter? They’re making money hand over fist, and sharing it with their stockholders.”
“Of course it matters.” Realizing too late how the words had come out of her mouth, Katharine made an effort to sound less snappish and more civilized. She was his trainer after all. “We need to understand the market for the product. Whether it will still be there in ten years, why
Taking an involuntary step backward, Katharine bumped into something hard. Her scream froze in her throat and as she turned she fought desperately to keep her eyes open–to see what was behind her now.
Then she felt stupid. Really stupid. She’d bumped into the wall. Her own wall that had been there for the three years she had owned the unit. With that realization, she stomped off, her wet hair trailing down her back. She jerked clothing from her closet, not stopping to think about what was on her agenda for the day or what kind of image she needed to project. Mostly she didn’t need to project “mad rage,” and that was all she concentrated on.
But she couldn’t put the suit on with her hair wet. So she stomped back into the bathroom and took her hairdryer to the offending word and cleared the entire mirror before turning the air gun on herself.
Later, Katharine figured she must have yanked out half her hair the way she had tugged at the snarls and hit it full blast with the dryer. As it was, she was lucky she was merely presentable. She was just on time, which was late for her. And she had to stop and take a moment to look down at her shoes and make sure that they matched each other and her outfit. She’d been late before, but being unsure which shoes she had on was definitely a new experience.
Allistair stood up to greet her as she came through the doorway to what she was now beginning to think of as
their
office. He smiled and the force of it knocked her back on her thankfully matching heels. That was enough to make her want to turn around, go home, and call in sick. For a brief moment she wondered if it was possible to call in sick after everyone had already seen her walk in. Could she say, “Ooops–didn’t mean to show up, that was a mistake”? Instead she found a smile to answer him with, one she hoped didn’t convey the heat that kept rushing to her face–her whole body, in fact–whenever he was in close proximity.
She had barely draped her jacket over the back of her chair when he came into her personal space. She wondered if he inhaled the scent of her when he breathed in this close, the way she did him. Then she wondered if the anger and fright from this morning had knocked her brain out of whack. Taking a deep breath to center her thoughts, she smelled him again.
Damnit.
That was not the way to calm herself. He smelled of the elements, rain and fire, wind and water. Something primal and necessary. But what was truly necessary was to listen to what he was saying and pay some actual attention for once.
He placed a short stack of files on the desk in front of her. “These are finished, but we need further research. I’ve done all I can do with the Light & Geryon databanks. I thought I might hit the library and see if I can pull up some archives or some connection between WeldLink and its parent company.”
“Who is the parent company?” Katharine wanted to smile, but her mouth didn’t want to work. It seemed her brain couldn’t do much more than sort through her actions and make sure that she was making sense while her thoughts ran everywhere but where they should be. She had formulated a fine question; all the words worked together. She was sure, even though she was still too close to this man who made her head swim.
Allistair shrugged. “That’s just it, I can’t find it anywhere. So I figured I’d check the library as a last-ditch effort.”
This time she did manage a smile. “I’ll get it.” It was just the excuse she needed. “What does WeldLink manufacture?”
Allistair looked at her. “Does it matter? They’re making money hand over fist, and sharing it with their stockholders.”
“Of course it matters.” Realizing too late how the words had come out of her mouth, Katharine made an effort to sound less snappish and more civilized. She was his trainer after all. “We need to understand the market for the product. Whether it will still be there in ten years, why
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