Daughter of Light (Kindred 2)

“Look, Liam, I was with someone before I came here. I thought he was a responsible, considerate, and stable young man, but he finally clearly dem

onstrated that he was more interested in a good time for the moment than in any planning for the future. There is nothing a girl with half a brain should resent more than feeling like someone’s good time. Too many men I’ve met think we’re some sort of video game they can click on and off whenever they have a mind to do so. Those who don’t mind get what they deserve. I’m not one of them, and my disappointment in love set me back. I need time to catch my breath.”

My imaginary revelation caught him completely off guard. The sadness and sincerity in my voice quickly wiped away his disdain and self-pity. He shook his head, impressed. “I don’t know any girl your age or even ten years older who thinks like you do. Most of the girls I know are just the opposite.”

“They’ll regret it when they wake up one day alone and realize life is a lot shorter than they thought.”

“How old did you say you were?”

“I didn’t say. Besides, it’s not the years you put in; it’s what you put into those years.”

“What’s that, something you heard my great-aunt Amelia say? Don’t get her started on Ben Franklin quotes.”

“No, it was something my father once said,” I told him, “but like most people, he didn’t follow his own advice.”

“Okay, okay.” He put up his hands like someone surrendering and started to back away. “I know when to go into a strategic retreat. Lately, that’s all I’ve been doing.”

“I hope your attempting that new leaf is not going to stop now,” I said. “I meant what I said. You should do what’s right and important to do for yourself and not as part of some illusion you design to seduce the new girl.”

He just stood there staring at me so hard that I thought he could see something really different in me, something that made me clearly a daughter of darkness.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t know what to make of you. You look like a stick of dynamite but act like a ballpoint pen. Discovering the real you is going to be a challenge.”

“Maybe the effort to find out will do you some good. Things that come too easy usually lose their value quicker,” I said, and turned back to the work I had on the computer. I knew he was still looking at me, but when I looked, he was gone. Romantically, maybe for good.

My lunch with the other women at Dolan’s Plumbing Supply was as I had anticipated. They were friendly but mostly full of curiosity, women Ava liked to call “pokey” because they poked their noses into everything.

One woman, Helen Carter, voiced what they were all thinking, maybe after talking about me with Michele. “I was very surprised Mr. Dolan would hire someone as young as you for the position. I don’t know any businessman as serious as he is when it comes to running a company. He puts a great value on experience. You must have done or said something very impressive. What experience have you had as a personal secretary? Were you just recommended by Mr. Dolan’s aunt, Amelia Winston?”

They all paused to hear my answer. “My father always said that quality is far more important than quantity.”

They waited to see if I would add anything, but I just bit into my sandwich, and they started talking about something else. Inevitably, the conversation turned back to me, however. They wanted to know more about my personal life. Instinctively, I knew that they would be more inclined to be on my side if they felt sorry for me, especially if they knew the story I had concocted for Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder, so I told it in an abbreviated form. Nevertheless, I had their rapt attention.

“So, you’re really a young lady on your own,” Clara Weintraub said, and all their heads were nodding, or I should say bobbing, in agreement and sympathy.

“I’m afraid so. I was lucky to find Mrs. Winston’s place, and one thing led to another, which is how I came to be here. Sometimes you can be just lucky. It’s not my usual history, as you can now understand, but when good fortune shines on you, you should turn your face right into it. My father used to . . . it was something he once said.”

“Of course, dear. You just call on any of us if you need anything, anything at all, including advice,” Helen Carter said.

“Men,” Clara Weintraub followed, practically spitting the word. “You take your time with that,” she warned, even waving her right forefinger at me. “Don’t let anyone, especially here, take advantage of you. Most of the young men here live from paycheck to paycheck and think saving for a rainy day simply means buying an umbrella.”

Heads bobbed.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” I said, smiling at them. “For now, I’m wearing a No Trespassing sign around my neck.”

That got them all laughing. They followed me out, chuckling and hugging me with warm welcomes. When I paused in the hallway, I saw that Liam had returned and was looking our way. Although he smiled, he shook his head with disappointment and went quickly into his office.

Exactly at the end of my workday, Naomi Addison arrived, as she had promised. She looked dressed to go to a fancy restaurant and not for shopping in a mall. I could see that she had gone to her stylist and had her roots highlighted and her hair done in a new style that made her more attractive. It also looked as if she’d had her makeup done by a professional.

Naomi was a full-figured woman who babied her complexion and, from what I understood, had a personal trainer. What she was wearing accentuated her attractive features. Her dark blue jacket was semifitted, lined, and below the hip in length. The shoulders were slightly extended, and it had long sleeves. Her matching skirt, also semifitted, was straight, lined, and below mid-knee. She wore a silver beaded necklace with matching earrings. In short, she was a perfectly put-together package.

Ava would call her “dressed to hook.”

“Am I early?” she asked.

“No, I was just finishing up,” I said. “You look very nice, Naomi.”