Melissa Good - Tropical Storm

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

Dar had a feeling it was far too late for a lot of things. “Probably.” She indicated the car. “Let’s get out of here while we’ve got a break in the weather.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Kerry climbed up into the comfort of the leather seat, and waited for Dar to join her on the driver’s side. “So,” she folded her hands in her lap, “what does your assistant do?”

As she shifted and started to pull out into the rain, Dar shot her a quick look. “I don’t know. I never had one before that lasted more than a week.” She paused. “It’ll probably be a tough, unpleasant, thankless, wild ride.”

Kerry sniffed reflectively, then buckled the safety belt securely around herself and settled back, folding her arms over her chest and glancing sideways. She found Dar looking back at her. They drove on into the night.

THE ALARM WAS buzzing, an annoying sound in any event, and more so because it was a Saturday morning and she’d forgotten to turn it off. In the dim light, one blue eye appeared, glared at the device, then a hand shot out from the covers and clobbered the clock, sending it flying from the bedside table and unplugging it.

“Yeow.” Dar cursed and grabbed her hand, rolling up onto her other elbow and wincing as she examined her knuckles. The entire back of her hand was swollen and discolored, and she dropped back down onto the pillows as she recalled how it got that way. “Forgot about that,” she mumbled, closing her eyes again.

She’d forgotten how hard the human skull was, and how much it hurt if a fist without any protection hit it head on. Not, she reflected, that I would have chosen any differently even if I had remembered. She didn’t regret the damage she’d done to that one of Kerry’s attackers, or the rest of them, for that matter.

She’d used kicks for the rest, though. Infinitely easier on the body. But for now she could barely close her fist, and she knew it was going to be a couple of days before that improved. “Hey, look, Dad,” she whispered to the ceiling, holding her hand up. “I’m a half-assed hero again. Imagine that.”

It was damn lucky for Kerry that she’d been so close. She’d driven out to Haulover Park to the north and spent a half hour just roaming aimlessly up and down the boardwalk, watching the young kids in their puppy loves go past. She’d actually been getting off on the 2nd street exit when Kerry had called, intent on stopping at Bayside for some ice cream before she headed back to the office to finish up. Instead of ice cream she’d gotten trouble, a sore hand, a last-minute financial brainstorm, and… Her mind conjured up a picture of Kerry’s slim form, swaddled in a too-large sweatshirt, standing at her car window as she dropped the younger woman off. She’d put a hand on Dar’s arm, and squeezed it.

“I’ll bring the shirt back to you on Monday, thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Dar had waved her off, a little embarrassed. “Keep it. I’ve got dozens and dozens of them…believe me.” She’d glanced around, seeing the Mustang parked nearby, its window neatly taped. “You going to be all right with that?”

The green eyes had followed hers, and Kerry had sighed. “Yeah, one of the guys here works in an auto body shop. He’s a pretty good friend of mine.”

Then she’d looked up and taken a breath. “Thanks for coming to my rescue, and I’m glad the whole thing worked out okay.”

Tropical Storm 63

Dar had smiled. “Me too.” She’d patted Kerry’s arm. “Get some rest, I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

And that had been that. She’d driven away, checking her rear view mirror a few times just to make sure Kerry had gotten inside okay, and put herself on auto-pilot for the long, rainy drive home .

Now she listened, and heard the patter of rain outside still, and tucked her arm under her pillow with a satisfied grunt . No running today. Today was just time to snuggle into the warmth of the waterbed, pull the covers up, and catch up on some much-needed sleep. She was just drifting off again when the phone rang again.

Dar sighed. “No one’s home.” It continued ringing, and she finally reached over, and hit the speakerphone button. “Yeah?”

“Good morning, Dar.” The voice sounded complacently pleased.

“What do you want at six AM Dukky?” Dar muttered. “I sent the updates last night.”

“Oh, I know.” The smile was audible. “I just wanted to compliment you on some really brilliant financial footwork there.”

“At six AM?” Dar sighed. “You could have sent me an e-mail.”

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. The word’s out you’ve asked for an assistant for yourself.” Duks said. “Mariana has gotten four inquiries already.

When you do, um, wake up, would you please send her over exactly what you’re looking for before the poor lady gets swamped?”

Dar let her eyes open sleepily. “Duks, it’s only been posted for six goddamn hours,” she protested. “I didn’t think I was that popular.”

The VP chuckled wryly. “I hate to break this to you, my friend, but you’re not. Everyone’s convinced this means you’re vacating that corner office, and they want a shot at it.” He cleared his throat. “Especially since the posting came from Alastair’s personal logon.”

“That’s not what it means, for crying…” Dar groaned. “Jesus, Duks, I just asked for a little help, that’s all. I wanted an assistant, not a replacement.”

A small silence. “You don’t do that often,” Duks replied slowly. “You have anyone in particular in mind, Dar?”

Now it was Dar’s turn to be silent. “I don’t know,” she finally said.

“Maybe.”

“Mmm.” The accountant acknowledged the unspoken information. “Be careful, Dar, that could be a dangerous position for you. Pick someone who’s not going to immediately stab you in the back.” He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t pay to let people get on the inside, you know?”

Dar gazed at the dresser, shadowy in the pre-dawn gloom. “I know,” she replied softly. “Thanks for the warning, Dukky.” There was a click as he hung up. She rolled over and regarded the ceiling soberly. Complications already.

She’d used her momentary leverage to get the position approved, not really thinking about the consequences, or how it would look.

She hadn’t really even considered it. No, that was a lie. She’d been thinking exactly of Kerry when she’d asked for it, and it had seemed like such an ingenious solution at the time. The woman had talent and potential, she was sharp—she’d be a good addition to the team.

But what about Kerry? She’s been hurt by the entire situation with her 64 Melissa Good company. Do I want to expose her to the many times more vicious environment inside the upper levels of the corporation? Is that fair to the kid? Was she even really interested? She seemed like she was last night, but…that could have been overtiredness, and a reaction to the day.

The morning surely would bring a more sensible attitude, and Dar quietly hoped the young woman would at least reconsider, and remain with the Associated account. She didn’t like to see talent leave the company. Right?

Dar pulled the covers up over her head and sighed. Oh Dar, lie to everyone but yourself, remember? You like the little imp.

There was something about Kerry she found very appealing. Maybe some of the friendly innocence she could remember in herself, a very long time ago.

No. She’d never been that innocent. Dar closed her eyes, picturing Kerry’s face.

Now look. Is that what you want for her, too? Leave her where she is, or let her go and find something else—a small place where she doesn’t have to be exposed to the way you have to do business. Last thing she needs is to move into a nest of vipers.

Inhabited by the queen asp.

Dar swallowed the slight lump in her throat, as the blue walls faded to a somber gray in tune with her mood. It was a quiet depression that she’d been experiencing more and more often lately, making her question what the point was in doing what she did, in going the places she went. A feeling of hopelessness that made her want to just curl up in a ball here in the dark and never leave.

Her solution so far was to throw herself into yet more work, which usually distracted her enough to make the feeling go away.

With a sigh, she pulled the covers back and slid out of bed, trudging across to the bathroom and flipping on the light. She used the facilities, then splashed a few handfuls of water over her face, stopping to regard her reflection wearily. Bloodshot blue eyes looked back at her, accented by dark shadows which added years to her age.

Hell with it. Might as well get some work done.

She turned and flipped off the light, moving out into the living room to where her briefcase rested on the coffee table. She unzipped it and pulled her laptop out, plugging in the custom cord built specifically for that purpose, and booting it up. Then she went into the kitchen and looked at the coffee machine, bypassing it and going to the refrigerator instead.

She poured a glass of milk from the dispenser, then added three squirts of chocolate syrup and mixed it. She sipped at the beverage as she seated herself on the long, leather couch and punched the buttons that would start a connection to the office.

A flick of the control turned on the large screen TV while she was waiting, and she surfed through the cable channels, bypassing CNN and MSNBC and settling on the Cartoon Network, which was showing Space Ghost Coast to Coast.