Page 1 of Hello Goodbye Amore

Chapter 1

TWO MINUTES—that was all Chase Anderson had left before the morning meeting when the elevator doors slid open and he strode breathlessly to his office, past the department admin’s desk.

Loretta lifted her gaze from her computer and smiled. “Dewey canceled the meeting this morning,” she told him gently. “But he wants to see you in his office at eight fifteen.”

Breathing heavily, Chase gaped at her and thought about banging his head on her desk, but with the way things were going, he’d end up with a concussion. “Thanks.” Chase shook his head as he looked skyward, not daring to slip off his jacket until he reached his office and closed the door. Then he hung up his jacket, sat at his desk, and quickly went through his email. His inbox had been clear when he left last night, so he answered what he needed to and then slipped his jacket back on for his meeting with Dewey. After all, the world would scream to a halt if he showed up without it.

The company had officially gone to an office-casual dress code. But his VP, Dewey van der Veer, had other ideas, and while he never said anything outright, it was made clear—by his attitude and his expensive Italian suits—that he expected everyone who worked for him to continue to dress the way they always had, which meant jacket and tie, even when it was ninety degrees outside. It would be okay if the guy weren’t such a complete douchenozzle. Chase had been in his position forbarely a year and had already sent out a few inquiries about positions in other departments of Smithson Biomedical, if only to help him keep his sanity.

Chase knocked on the frame of Dewey’s door and took a seat when he motioned him in. Dewey was on the phone and building up a head of steam. “I don’t really care. You need to bring this in on the cost we talked about and on schedule. We have three teams waiting on it, and you don’t get to tell me a week before it’s due that you need two more weeks. I’m paying you to deliver.”

Chase had heard that sort of talk to suppliers a number of times. It was Dewey’s standard reaction to anything that didn’t go his way. Dewey was every cliché of a bad boss, right down to his “do what I say, not what I do” mentality. Others who had worked for him for years had told Chase he’d get used to it. Chase wasn’t so sure.

With a final threat, Dewey tossed his cell phone on his desk, and it slid to the edge but didn’t dare fall to the floor. Then he leaned back in his chair as though he had all the time in the world. Maybe yelling at suppliers gave the guy a thrill. Hell, he looked like he wanted a cigarette. Everything in the office was designed to keep everyone hopping and on their toes while Dewey relaxed and looked like he was ready to put his feet up.

“You’ve done an amazing job on the design of the adjustable breathing implant, and we got word yesterday that the initial trials were a success and have been approved to move on to large-scale testing in a few months.” As usual, Dewey dove right in and actually smiled like this was all his success, his perfect teeth—probably all crowns—actually shining. Not that Chase doubted he was taking credit for whatever he could, whenever he could. That was his usual method of operation. “The biggest stumbling block is the coupler that makes up the center of the design. The requirements for that piece are so exacting, we’ve had difficulties finding a company to produce them.”

Chase wanted to ask how hard Dewey had looked, but he bit his lip instead. “I see.” Chase wondered exactly what Dewey was up to. “I made a list of firms that should have been able to meet our specifications.”

He nodded. “And you did great, but the FDA approval process tightened the specifications further and ruled most of them out. However, one firm has agreed to supply what we need.” Dewey leaned forward, his hands on his desk, and looked at Chase as though he were being attentive. They had gone through this active listening training a year before, and this was Dewey’s attempt to comply with that. Instead of appearing engaged and attentive, he looked more like a constipated predator trying to pass his last meal. “We need someone to work with this firm to make sure that they can and will meet our specifications.”

Chase knew the list he’d made by heart. “Which firm is it?”

“Glorioso Metallurgy out of Italy.”

Of course. It had to be them. That firm had most certainlynotbeen on his list for a number of reasons, not least of which was that they were overseas, and he had been told to concentrate on American suppliers. But just the name brought up unpleasant memories that hit Chase right in the gut. Hell, a punch would be more pleasant than the twisting agony of old pain he tried to push back into its box. But he couldn’t let any of that show on his face in front of Dewey. It wouldn’t be professional, and it wasn’t like Dewey gave a damn about the things that had happened to Chase years ago and changed his life forever. No, that man cared about nothing but himself and what affected his image as the perfect supervisor.

“Do you want me to have someone contact them?” Chase asked. He wasn’t sure where Dewey was heading.

“No.” That gaze of his didn’t shift, but he smiled, like everything was so wonderful. “I need you to go to Florenceand work with them to make sure they truly can deliver what we need. Oversee quality and production schedules as well as arrange shipping and be the liaison back to the office and staff here. The project is important enough to the company that we thought we should have someone on-site there.” He sounded so reasonable, but Chase was praying for the floor beneath him to open up so the earth could swallow him whole. That would be preferable to what Dewey had just proposed.

“But I’m not the project lead. That’s Dave.” He swallowed. Yes, Chase had done a lot of the design work, but Dave was the lead engineer and the one who had spearheaded this project. Normally he should be the one to take on this role.

“Dave isn’t able to go. His daughter and son are in high school, and his wife isn’t able to manage it all on her own.” Dewey sounded almost sympathetic, which was something Chase had thought impossible. Dewey leaned closer. “You should be able to handle this for us. It will only be for about five months.” The tone was the same as if he had asked Chase to get him a can of soda from the machine in the break room.

Chase could just imagine how all this had come about. Dewey would have spoken to Dave first, and between Dave pleading hardship and the fact that he had his lips and nose buried so far up Dewey’s ass that when Dewey opened his mouth you half expected to hear Dave’s voice, Dave was off the hook. So now Chase was expected to uproot his life and Ricky’s.

Chase’s insides felt like they had just been put through a wash cycle and tumble dried. Yet none of that could show on his face, not for a second. He already knew that any expression of fear or dissatisfaction would be used against him. “I have a son in school.” Just the thought of Ricky being involved in this was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. Ricky was settled in his school and was a happy child, and that was one of Chase’s proudest accomplishments. After all the upheaval inhis early years, the last thing he needed was to be uprooted, and the very last thing on earth that Chase wanted was for Ricky to be anywhere near Florence, or the Glorioso family. The thought was enough to make him regret the breakfast he’d eaten with Ricky just an hour ago. But Chase was like a damned duck, calm on the surface while paddling like crazy under the water, even if in this case it got him nowhere. If he wasn’t cool, Dewey would pick up on it and then expect an explanation Chase was not willing to give.

“A lot of the time will be in the summer, and Dave’s son is going into his senior year.” Clearly the family argument would work for Dave, since he was one of Dewey’s cronies, but wouldn’t fly for Chase.

Chase tried to think of some sort of argument he could use, but came up with nothing—not that bulldozer Dewey gave him a chance to say anything.

“This is something I’m asking you to do for us. In the next year, if this project goes well, there will be directorial positions opening, and I won’t forget this.” He sat back once again.

And there it was. The big, shining, gold-plated carrot, glinting in the sun, dangling right in front of him. And fuck him six ways from Sunday if it wasn’t too much to pass up.

“This is a very important project for the company, and there will be a lot of eyes on it. Upper management will be watching all of us, so this will be an excellent chance for you to show what you can do. If this turns out well, and I have every confidence that it will, then there will be plenty of rewards to go around.” He smiled, and all Chase saw was the damned fox again, only this time he knew he was caught… and not in a good way.

Of course Dewey had to extend the carrot of a possible promotion—one that Chase had been hoping for. Before Dewey had moved into his position, James Sweet had been the VP, and he had been grooming Chase for a promotion. James was a goodman and had been a great boss who believed in building up and developing his people rather than lording it over them from on high. “Can I think about it?” Chase asked.

“Yes, definitely.” That predatory grin told Chase that Dewey already thought he had what he wanted. “Give me an answer tomorrow and let me know.”

Dewey’s phone rang, and he snatched it up off his desk and answered it as though Chase wasn’t there. Using it as a chance to escape, Chase left the huge office to return to his own, letting Dewey talk at someone else for a while.

“How did it go?” Loretta asked as he passed her area. She was always friendly, but Chase was wary of anything he said to her, not knowing if she was one of Dewey’s pipelines of information. Loretta had been James’s admin before Dewey was promoted, and Chase had always liked her, but with Dewey’s management style, he couldn’t take any chances.

“Pretty well, I guess,” he lied, and got a look over the top of her glasses, just like she’d done in the old days. “I have a decision to make, that’s all.” He tapped the counter and then returned to his office.

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