moment merely standing and absorbing it all.

“Hasn’t changed a bit.” Dar shook her head in mild disgust and headed for the elevators, perched behind an imposing guard desk. “Pretentious piece of...”

“Can I help you, ma’am?” The guard’s voice stopped her. “Are you looking for someone?”

Dar walked over and leaned on the counter. “Yeah.” She pulled off her sunglasses and chewed on an earpiece. “Alastair McLean.”

The cool hazel eyes studied her, before scanning a list behind the desk. “Is he expecting you, ma’am?” His voice was pointed on the title.

“Yep.” Dar flipped her badge onto the counter.

Reluctantly, the man took it and put it on the desk, then started typing in something, glancing at the badge as he did so. His hands stopped, and he leaned closer, then looked up at her in evident shock.

Dar smiled. “Not what you expected?”

He slowly handed her the badge back. “No, ma’am, Ms. Roberts, not exactly.” Now the voice was respectful. “You can go on up. You know the way, I guess.”

The dark haired woman smiled, then moved past him to the bank of glass and marble lined elevators, one of which was resting on ground level in all its brassy splendor. Dar entered it and punched the twenty-third floor, then leaned against the wall as the doors slid shut and the car moved upward.

It stopped on fifteen and two men got on, arguing over a Y2K

upgrade on a legacy program Dar remembered writing seven or eight years prior. She listened in amusement as they debated, ignoring the glances they kept giving her.

“If they’d have left that original code in place, Dave, we’d be fine.”

“You tell them that. I tried to tell them that two years ago, but no.

No. They had their heads stuck too far up their butts to go and ask the original coder.” The shorter man shook his head in disgust. “Pansy asses.”

“Well,” the taller man chuckled, as they got out on the twentieth floor, “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d have the balls to go tell Dar Roberts I’d messed up her code either.”

The doors slid shut and Dar snickered, then eyed her reflection, flicking her dark hair into a semblance of order as the elevator reached its destination and the doors opened.

It was, if anything, even quieter up here than in the lobby. There was soundproofing weave on all the walls and the floors had plush, padded carpeting on them. Dar walked silently through the entryway, lit by sunlight that poured in through the vaulted glass ceilings, and turned down the largest corridor, which had plaques all down its length.

The soft sounds of business could be heard through the wooden doors she passed and she exchanged nods with two other women who passed her. Finally she was at the last set of doors and she grabbed the ornate brass handles and pulled them open.


20 Melissa Good Inside was a large, airy antechamber, roughly circular, with three doors leading off it. In the center was a small fountain and to one side, a huge, laminated wood circular desk presided, with a tall, austere woman seated precisely in the center, her attention focused on a paper.

“Hello, Beatrice.” Dar’s voice broke the quiet.

Startled, the woman glanced up. “Oh I...” Then she turned her head fully. “Well, my God, Paladar Roberts. It’s been forever.” Beatrice laughed and stood up. “Or at least, what…five years?”

“At least,” Dar allowed, walking over and folding her arms over her chest. “You know I hate this place.”

Alastair’s long time assistant cocked her head and smiled, pulling down her half glasses a little. “You show up like that just to tweak him?”

she asked gently. “Bad timing, if it was. Ankow’s really giving it to him in there.”

“I know. That’s why he asked me to show up,” Dar replied. “They still in session?”

“Mmm.” Beatrice nodded her neatly coifed gray head. “He’s trouble, Dar. He wants to get Alastair out.” The older woman folded her hands and sighed. “Have you met him?”

“No.”

“Well, I can’t say I like him much. He’s in his early forties, good looking, sporty type,” Beatrice told her. “Thinks anyone who can remember World War II should be gone and buried. He doesn’t have much patience with what he regards as the old ways.”

“Really.” Dar considered the door to the conference room. “Change for the sake of change gets no one anything but trouble, Beatrice. You know that.”

“Mmm. Well, he’s on a campaign to get the board restructured and remove Alastair. He thinks he has the leverage. You know last quarter’s results weren’t that great.”

“We’re trying to fix that,” Dar replied quietly. “You can’t sell facilities you don’t have.”

“I know that, and you know that. Maybe you should tell Mr. Ankow that.” Beatrice’s dark eyes twinkled. “He took one look at your sixteen year tenure and he wants you out, too.” She gazed at Dar. “You look great for such an old-timer, Paladar.”

A look of wry amusement crossed Dar’s tanned features. “Thanks.”

She walked over and put her hands on the door latches into the conference room. “See ya.”

“Good luck.” Beatrice waved.

Dar paused, hearing the raised voices inside, and took a breath, rousting her more aggressive, darker side up before she worked the handles and pulled the doors open.

KERRY ENTERED THE break room, winding her way around several employees seated at the small tables, most of whom ignored her. She Eye of the Storm 21

went to the hot water dispenser and ran the steaming liquid over her teabag, focusing her ears on the conversations behind her.

“Think they’ll fire us?”

“Nah. They can’t. Sam’ll get them locked up. Just give it a chance.”

“I dunno, Rex. This ain’t no little two bit graphics company coming in here.”

“I heard they just got rid of the last three companies they bought out.

You came in and they handed you a box with your stuff in it.”

Kerry rolled her eyes and dunked her teabag. Not quite. Though she had needed to make some hard decisions on the first of them, where the departments pretty much mirrored the business unit that was acquiring them.

It had been a very lonely moment, that night in a strange hotel room in a tiny corner of North Carolina. She’d sat up for hours, locked in a fierce debate with herself as she tried to come up with some way–any way–to justify not screwing up those people’s lives.

And she couldn’t.

At four a.m., she’d given up and, feeling small and foolish, called Dar. “How can I make decisions like this?” she’d asked her lover.

“Don’t,” Dar had answered, apparently wide awake. “I’ll do it.”

It had been so tempting, Kerry sighed. She’d been exhausted and emotionally drained and every instinct she had was begging her to give in and let Dar take the weight off her shoulders.

But she’d said no. And she’d collected herself, gotten a few hours sleep, and went into the place the next morning to give them their limited options.

“Well,” the company’s director had said, “we thought we were all out. That’s good news.” And he’d smiled at her. “Thanks, Ms. Stuart. It’s sure been a pleasure working with you.”

Kerry put some sweetener in her cup and stirred it.

“Yeah, well they’d better take care of us or I’ll have something to say about it,” a tall, younger man in the corner spoke up in an irritated voice.

“We held up our end of things.”

“You’d better shut up, Alvin,” a woman answered. “Or you’ll end up like Mary.”

An odd silence fell, and Kerry experienced a sudden prickly feeling up and down her spine. Casually, she turned, to find everyone looking at her. She took a sip of her tea. “I didn’t bring any boxes with me, so you can relax.”

It got ten degrees cooler immediately. “You’re from the new company?” someone muttered from the back of the room.

Kerry nodded. “Yep.” She took another sip, feeling the waves of hostility beating against her. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Not from your perspective,” the woman who had last spoken retorted.

“Well, I was in your shoes a couple months ago,” Kerry answered evenly. “So you never know. I got a promotion out of it.” She went out 22 Melissa Good the door and down the hall, but not fast enough to escape the comment that floated after her.

“Yeah? Wonder who she slept with.”

Kerry sighed. “And you know, I can’t even really get mad at that,”

she remarked to the empty hallway. “I hate living a cliché sometimes.”

She slipped back into the conference room and stopped, finding Sam waiting for her. “Oh, I took you up on the offer of coffee.” She lifted her cup and circled the table to the opposite side.

“Great,” the comptroller replied, with a friendly smile. “We’ve got the reports you asked for running. But it’ll take a couple of hours. Listen, you up for an early lunch? There’s a nice spot near here we all go to.”

A tiny, faint warning bell rang in Kerry’s mind’s ear. “Sure.” She pulled out her cell phone. “Let me just check in with the office.” She dialed a number, then waited. “Hey, María.”

“Kerrisita.” María’s warm tones came through the phone at her. “I am glad to hear your voice.”

“Thanks.” Kerry smiled in reflex. “Listen, did the boss call in yet?”

“No. She is in a meeting in Texas,” María told her. “Beatrice tells me it is not a good one.”

“Mmm.” Kerry sighed. “She was afraid of that…yeah...well, things are in process here, but I’m going to step out for lunch so if anyone’s looking for me, have them use my pager, or the cell.”

There was a little silence, then María cleared her throat. “Sí, I will do that, Kerrisita.”