“I—I don’t know yet.” She had statistics, but that wasn’t what was needed here. For once she wished she had the backup of her team. She even would have welcomed Brett saying “no worries” and committing them to all manner of unachievable goals. Anything that would give her a minute to refocus. “But I’ll find out. That’s why I’m here. I intend to find out what is special about Snow Crystal.”
Jackson was staring at her with incredulity, and her cheeks burned because she knew she’d failed him. And herself. For the first time ever she’d failed at her job. There was no way, no way, he’d give her the business after her pathetic performance. And she didn’t blame him. She wouldn’t give herself the business, either.
Walter gave a grunt. “Then maybe we should be having this meeting when you’ve done that.”
“That’s enough.” Jackson didn’t move from his seat, but his voice was hard. “This family may be many things, but rude isn’t one of them. Kayla is an expert at what she does.”
Walter’s expression was mutinous. “Maybe, but she’s not an expert on Snow Crystal. She’s just admitted it, and that’s hardly surprising, is it? She’s an outsider. How can an outsider know more than us?”
“We need someone on the outside,” Jackson said coldly, “because the people on the inside have done things the same way for far too long.”
“Because they worked. You want to change things for the sake of it.”
“I have no idea who rattled your cage, Walter, but you need to calm down or you’ll be getting chest pains again.” Sending her father-in-law a reproving look, Elizabeth O’Neil placed the large casserole in the center of the table. “As for Kayla, she’s probably starving hungry, and no one can think on an empty stomach. She had a long journey and traveling always makes a person hungry. Do you like pot roast, Kayla?”
They were looking for excuses for her fumbled, inadequate performance, and there were none. Or at least, none she could offer.
Kayla couldn’t make her brain or her limbs work.
She glanced at the casserole as if a spaceship had landed in the middle of the table then stood up, graceless and flustered.
They didn’t want her here.
Jackson reached out and caught her arm, his fingers like steel. “Where are you going?”
Why don’t you eat in your room, Kayla?
“You’re having a family meal. I’m interrupting.” Shaking him off, she stuffed the notebook and computer into her bag without bothering to switch off the power.
“You’re not interrupting.” Elizabeth sounded confused. “We’re having pot roast. Élise, our French chef, gave me the recipe. It’s the perfect comfort food for a snowy day, and we have plenty of those around here. I’ll give you the recipe, then you can make it when you’re back in New York.”
She wished she were in New York now, back in her soulless glass apartment sealed away from the world.
Coming here had been a bad idea. She was running away, but you couldn’t run from something that was inside you.
“I’ll leave you to your meal.” Kayla stumbled toward the door and grabbed her coat. “Have a good evening.” Her coat half on and half off, she yanked open the door.
A young girl stood there. Pale-skinned and thin, she wore a thick Fair Isle sweater and was holding a puppy in her arms.
“I found her outside.” She put the puppy down, and it immediately ran over to Kayla and raced in circles around her, leaping up and leaving paw prints on her favorite black suede shoes.
“Oh, she’s making a mess of your beautiful shoes, I’m so sorry—” Elizabeth brandished the serving spoon. “Go to your basket, Maple.”
Maple paid no attention and Kayla heard Jackson sigh.
“Down!”
Responding to the voice of authority, Maple sank to her belly and turned wounded eyes to Kayla.
Kayla was willing to bet the look in her eyes was pretty similar.
I’m in much deeper shit than you are.
While the O’Neils were focused on the puppy, she seized the moment to escape.
“Kayla—”
“I’m fine. Enjoy your meal.” She took a last, wild look around the room and shot out of the door, slamming it shut behind her.