Daughter of Light (Kindred 2)

“No problem. I saw you were busy,” I said.

He offered to give me a better tour of it all. “I’ve been here longer than most of the employees,” he bragged. “And I grew up in this town, so don’t hesitate to ask me anything. If you have a free weekend, I’d be happy to show you around, take you to lunch, whatever.”

“Thank you. I have it all under control for now,” I said as sweetly but as firmly as I could. He looked surprised more than disappointed as he left.

“You dented his ego,” Michele said. She had overheard it all. “Second to Liam, he’s the Don Juan of the company. Don’t let that accent fool you. He’s nowhere near as bright as he pretends to be.” Unable to disguise her jealousy, perhaps her longing for her own youthful, carefree time, she added, “They’re all going to hit on you. The word’s out, apparently.”

“What word?”

“That you’re young, beautiful, and available.”

“I’m not so available,” I said sharply.

“Oh. Are you seeing someone here already?”

“No.”

“Someone in Boston?”

I shook my head but offered no other explanation.

She shrugged. “Whatever.” She checked her watch. “I hope we don’t have any other interruptions. I’ve got to go to a doctor’s appointment. Let me just run through this list of important names, people Mr. Dolan considers his A-list. There are some politicians on it, so not everything here involves plumbing supplies, if you get my drift.”

“I do,” I said. “Thank you.”

I was too busy the rest of the morning to give Liam or the other young men who had stopped by much thought, even if I had wanted to, and when the women from accounting invited me to join them for lunch, I agreed, actually jumping at the invitation. They told me they sent out for sandwiches, and we would all have lunch in an area reserved for employees to have lunch or take snack breaks. There was a refrigerator and a microwave for our use. I checked what sandwich I wanted on the takeout menu and returned to the letters and phone calls. Just before noon, Liam stopped by to see if I was going to join him for lunch.

“You’ll really love the food at this place.”

“I’m just too busy,” I said. “I agreed to join the other employees ordering in sandwiches. It’s probably a good idea for me to get to know them all, anyway, don’t you think?”

Of course, he didn’t. “It’s better to get to know me,” he half kidded. “But whatever . . . I’ll go with Michael to this new job site to help formulate a bid, then. You’re forcing me to be a good employee, too.”

“It’s not castor oil,” I said. “And I repeat, you should want to be that without my influencing you.”

He laughed. “You sound like one of my high school teachers trying to motivate me.”

“Did you ever wonder why you needed motivation?”

He lost his smile. “Despite what you’ve been told and what you see, my life isn’t, nor has it been, a bowl of cherries,” he countered.

“Neither has mine, but wallowing in self-pity doesn’t help.”

“Oh, brother.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Mercy,” he pleaded with his hands up. I laughed at his histrionics. That brought a smile back to his face. “How about I give you a ride home, at least?”

“Oh, I’m shopping first. Mrs. Addison is taking me.”

“Naomi Addison?” He smirked. “She’s twice your age. What is she going to know about the things a young woman like you needs?”

“Don’t you respect the wisdom of older people?” I asked.

He shook his head. “You’re different, all right.” He didn’t make it seem like a compliment. It rang like a complaint.

“Why do you say that?” I asked. Was there something now so immediately obvious about me?

“Let’s just say you seem older than you are and leave it at that.”

“Whatever.”