Page 3 of Due South

Lucy

“I’m so sorryto do this, Lucy.”

It’s two hours later, and my chipper holiday mood has descended into a morass of confusion. I’m not entirely sure how to feel about this. Disappointed? Angry? Flattered? My boss’s expression is surprisingly earnest. She doesn’t say sorry a lot. More than she used to since she got married, but still not so much. I bite my bottom lip because I’m not quite sure what to say. I’ve never not been at home for Christmas.

“When this is all over, you can have a week off to see your family. I’ll pay for your tickets myself and reimburse you for the ones you won’t be using. I wouldn’t ask, but I need you.”

“You need me?” The words plunk out of my mouth, and I curse myself.Stupid, Lucy. Shut your face before she changes her mind.

“I do. Travers and Ellington completely shat the bed on this PRA bond project, and the entire thing needs to be redone. The presentation’s not until January second, but the report’s due on the twenty-sixth.”

Travers and Ellington have been working on this project for the Philadelphia Redevelopment Authority for months. It’s the first bond project our firm has done, so it’s not exactly business as usual. Not to mention I haven’t worked on it at all. The only reason I know it’s due right after Christmas is that India likes me to proof reports before they go to clients and I was supposed to do this one right before I left. Along with a thousand other things.

India’s kept me crazy busy for the past four months, what with all the changes going on around here since Jack left. And it’s not as if it was an expected transition. No oneplansto have a massive heart attack. On the plus side, he did survive. Jack used to scare the crap out of me, and I never got used to his yelling, but altogether, he was a decent and fair boss.

“But I—”

“Yes, I know you haven’t had anything to do with it, which was probably my first mistake. Okay, maybe my third, but the point is, I know you can help fix it. You and Evans are the only people I trust to get this right in the amount of time we have.”

It’s times like these I miss Jack. Not his yelling, of course, but he’d never put me on something like this. He’d plow through it himself. Which would likely explain his heart attack. It’s probably a good thing the current Mrs. Valentine made him give up JVA. Jack Valentine Associates is now the Burke Consulting Group, or BCG, though I still answer the phone wrong sometimes.

“Speaking of Evans, I’ve got to tell him he’s not going anywhere for the next week either. So, again, Lucy, I’m so sorry. I’ll get you to Iowa soon, just not for Christmas.”

“Okay.” I could tell her I have mixed feelings about going home anyway, but I don’t want her to change her mind. I’m not going to say no to a free plane ticket. And maybe if I tell my family why I have to miss Christmas…

No, they’ll never change their minds about me. I left Iowa years ago to see if I could make it in Hollywood. But all I got was a crappy apartment I shared with four other “aspiring actresses”—aka waitresses—blatant sexual harassment, and a whole bunch of credit card debt. Christina Hendricks had cornered the market on buxom redheads. That’s what the nice ones had said. The mean ones…

I shake my head.

“Lucy.” India’s voice is stern, but not angry, so I meet her gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Ms. Burke. But I… Could I take a minute to call my mom and let her know?”

“Of course. You can use my office if you want. I have to go give Evans the bad news.”

She huffs a sigh and straightens her shoulders before heading down the aisle formed by the cubicles.

I grab my phone out of my bag under my desk and hustle into India’s office. She’ll be back soon. I’ve never seen her do anything slowly. She’s more of the rip-off-the-Band-Aid school whereas I’m more likely to peel at the adhesive bit by bit in the hopes gentleness will make things better. It doesn’t always.

The phone rings a few times and then my mom picks up. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, Lulu. Wasn’t expecting to hear from you this time of day. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I am, but I—”

“Did the dragon lady actually let you take a lunch hour today? You should find somewhere else to work.”

It’s true I’d said some not-so-nice things about India after I’d started working at JVA. She and Jack used to scare the bejesus out of me. But they can be nice too. Jack had given me a week off when Grandma Cloris had died, and he’d encouraged me to take some community college classes so I could help on more interesting projects. Given me a raise at the same time so I could pay for them without changing how I live much.

India says thank you regularly and brings me coffee for my secret stash whenever she visits Cris in Kona, which is often. I don’t know exactly how their marriage works with them living in two separate places a plane ride away, but it’s not my business. Especially if it makes India happy, which it seems to. Even if it weren’t for those things, JVA—and now BCG—would be a pretty decent place to work. I always get paid on time, I’ve never been asked to do anything illegal, and no one’s ever grabbed my butt. Which is more than I can say for the other places I’d been an assistant. Maybe my bar is low, but it’s the only one I’ve got.

I swallow the defense of my boss. It’s not completely wrong to let my mom think India’s a tyrant. She certainly can be, and it’s nice to have an ear when all I want to do is complain. Not that my parents didn’t raise me to work hard, but they get back-breaking effort when it applies to the dairy farm, not so much when it comes to “pushing papers.” Which is apparently what I do.

“I have some bad news. I’m not going to be able to make it home for Christmas this year.”

There’s a pause that makes me cringe, and then my mom’s voice comes over the line, that saccharine tone that always means she’s going to say something that makes me feel crappy about myself. “Well, of course not. It was only a matter of time. We all know what a hard worker you are. Not that your brothers don’t work hard, but they’re so focused on family. We shouldn’t have let you watchWorking Girlso many times when you were little. I just hope you’ll get something out of this—a promotion maybe? We’ll miss your help with the cookies and decorating the tree, but there’s always Easter. Maybe you’ll have more time for us then.”

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