Page 11 of Brooklynaire
She smiles. Lauren and I get along well and always have. When I hired her to assist me in the Manhattan office, it was a goodchoice.
The next second I forget all about her, though. Because I spot Rebecca walking into the training center.Finally. And as I watch her approach, I tune out everythingelse.
At first glance, Rebecca looks fine. Better than fine. She’s wearing a short skirt that shows off legs that I shouldn’t be noticing and an eye-catching jacket in brightorange.
But there’s something not quite right. Her gait is hunched slightly forward. She looks downtrodden. Becca doesn’t walk like that. She always has her head up, shoulders back. She’s only 5 feet, 3 inches tall, but she always looks ready to tackle theworld.
“Nate. Jesus Christ. I asked you aquestion.”
I finally turn my head to look at Lauren. “Sorry. I missed what you justsaid.”
“Thank you for admitting it,” she says frostily. “That’s afirst.”
That’s not quite true. IknowI’m a pain in the ass. We’ve agreed on this point many times. “I’m a little distracted today. Can’t stop thinking about tomorrow night’s game.” That’s partly accurate. But it’s not the real cause of my distraction today. Although I can’t tell Laurenthat.
Rebecca disappears from my sight as she continues toward Dr. Herberts’ office. But I just sort of stare at the empty spot where she was a second ago. In seven years, Rebecca has never missed more than two days of work for illness. The fact that she’s still out has been bothering me. So much. I can’t even explainit.
A wadded-up piece of Lauren’s notepaper bounces off the top of my head. That’s how I know my attention has wandered yetagain.
“Usually when you get like this, I just get up and walk away and try again later,” Lauren says. “But you need to be in Manhattan for the engineering meeting at noon. And it’s 11:15 already. If we don’t finish up, you’re going to belate.”
Ah. “Then there’s no problem. Because I changed the engineering meeting to twoo’clock.”
Lauren’s expression flashes first with disbelief, followed quickly by irritation. “If that’s true, why does the schedulestillsaynoon?”
Good question. “Maybe I forgot to cc you?” Uh-oh…
Lauren leans over until her forehead reaches the wall beside her. And then she bumps her forehead against the wooden surface several times in arow.
“Hey! Cut it out. We already have enough head injuries aroundhere.”
She lifts her face, and it’s full of displeasure. “But Ijustset up a conference call for you at two o’clock! And when I told you so, not three minutes ago, when you were staring down the hallway, you grunted like that was fine! Butit’s not fine. Now I have to go back and reach the tax department to tell them that we have to reschedule this conference call for thethird timein threedays.”
“Sorry, sorry.” I hold up both hands in submission. “I’d offer to commit ritual suicide to convince you of my sincere apology, but I suspect that would just mean you had to reschedule even morestuff.”
Lauren’s angry gaze could be patented and sold as a military-grade weapon. That’s why most of the C-suite in Manhattan is terrified of her. “Just tell me this.Whydid you push the engineering meeting untiltwo?”
I’m not ready with my lie, so it isn’t a very good one. “Game five could be a real change in momentum for us. I wanted to watch this morning’s practice.” The one that ended a half hourago.
She stares me down. It’s possible that she knows exactly why I’m stalling in Brooklyn, and is just toying with me the way a cat plays with a mouse before he pounces to kill it. Either that or she’s experimenting with a new intimidation technique they teach at the ninja business school she attends. Suddenly she blinks, her face softening. “Nate, are youokay?”
Her change in demeanor takes me by surprise. It could even be a trap. “Of course.Why?”
Lauren sighs and lets the subject drop. I make women sigh all the time, but not always in a goodway.
“Enough about me,” I say, changing the topic. “How are you holding up with this wholesituation?”
“By ‘situation,’” she makes her fingers into quotation marks, “do you mean the way you’re forcing me to travel with hockey players? Who Ihate?”
“Orclaimto hate.” I brace myself for a hailstorm of office products flying at me, but she only scowlsinstead.
Some of the players are filtering out of the locker rooms now. They’re walking up the nearby corridor toward the building’s exit. And now it’s Lauren’s turn to be the distracted one. She actually repositions herself so she’s partially hidden behind me. That’s how badly she doesn’t want to interact with mygoalie.
“Go on up,” I say. “I swear I’ll find my way to Manhattan before my two o’clock.” I tip my head toward the door. “Get out of here. You know you wantto.”
“Raise your righthand.”
I do it just to humorher.
