Read Online The Cocktail Club by Pat Tucker - Free Book Online Page B

always slick and in place. Her birth certificate might have put her at sixty-five, but her body, her passion, and poise could rival any forty-year-old.
    â€œDon’t get up,” she said, as she walked in.
    The white, jewel-embedded pencil skirt she wore fit as if it was made specifically for her thin frame. She had on a matching silk top trimmed in black, and a pair of sky-high Michael Kors, pointy-toed pumps.
    â€œGeneva.” I rose ever so slightly.
    She waved her arms, and dismissed my greeting as she moved behind her desk. Geneva always looked so fresh and easy breezy that she could lure you into a false sense of comfort. I knew better. I understood the unspoken seriousness of being summoned to her office.
    Despite how much her Russian, red-matte lips smiled, it was always high-stakes poker with her, and that smile could lead to the kiss of death. When the smile vanished, and her pretty features twisted into a frown, I braced myself for the worst.
    â€œOooh, a little too much Belvedere last night?” She giggled.
    If my skin were pale, I would’ve turned several shades of crimson right where I sat. I was more than a little embarrassed.
    â€œThat obvious?” I asked sheepishly. I wanted to say, “You wouldn’t have been assaulted by my fumes had you left me to my work at home.”
    â€œIt’s seeping through your pores,” she joked. “A woman after my own heart.” She reached for a thick folder, and dropped it onto her desk.
    She had not called me in to discuss my drink of choice, but I couldn’t rush her, despite how badly I wanted to.
    â€œCarson Liam is making some serious allegations of negligence on your part. He’s demanding a meeting, and I need to know what I’m walking into Monday morning.”
    Negligence. I allowed her words to roll around in my head before I responded, but the main one that stuck, cut deep.
    â€œGeneva, Carson is impatient. He doesn’t understand that any campaign needs time. He wants instant returns.”
    She stopped what she was doing, and eyed me closely.
    â€œIvee, you are very talented and more than capable. I am not going to lecture you about how to do your job, but the bottom line is, we are here to give the clients what they want, and that isn’t necessarily what they need.”
    I was even more vexed with Carson. He had basically put me on Geneva’s radar unnecessarily. While I was confident my work more than spoke for itself, I enjoyed being complaint free. When a client complained, regardless of who was right, it cast a negative shadow. I’d seen it happen with others, and we all talked about it. When someone received that mark, it seemed to hang around forever. Whispers around the office about who had a client switched to another colleague was a sure sign that one shouldn’t expect any kind of bonus or pay increase.
    Geneva and I talked, and although she kept it lighthearted, I didn’t trust the false sense of security she tried to shower on me.
    By the time I left her office, I felt like the kid who had been silently reprimanded by parents who had unrealistic standards.
    As I walked into the elevator, I murmured to myself, “Well, if that bitch thinks I’m gonna sit and wait on her to strike, she’s got another thing coming.”

13
PETA
    I made it a priority to have dinner with Kendal at least three or four times a week. The boutiques kept me busy, and I loved it. However, it was easy to fall into the trap where my focus was solely on work. And as a single parent, I couldn’t afford to neglect my girl.
    Gordon and I texted back and forth, but I didn’t call him. I had plans. After dinner, Kendal and I popped in a movie. I listened as my daughter rambled on about which of her classmates were no longer friends, and who said what about whom.
    â€œSo, Mom, Heather was like, you can’t be friends with me if you’re gonna be friends with Leslie. And, like you