Eye of the Storm

Chapter

Twelve

OF COURSE, IT rained the next day. Kerry stood for a moment, yawning and peering out the double glass sliding doors that opened to the ocean, watching the sheets of thick raindrops almost obscure the surf.

Well, she considered, that was okay too. It was a great morning for sleeping in—and they had—and here it was almost noon and she was just crawling out to put up some coffee. She continued on into the kitchen and flipped the light on, since the weather outside made it gloomy, and measured off the coffee before hitting the start switch.

It made a friendly, percolating sound as the water emerged, and she stepped back, stretching her arms overhead and considering what to rummage up for breakfast.

Okay, brunch.

Kerry glanced at the clock. Lunch, if they followed their usual schedule. She ran her hands through her hair and yawned again, smiling as Chino trotted into the kitchen and sat down in front of her biscuit jar, looking up at Kerry expectantly.

“Oh.” She put one fist on her hip. “So. You think you’ve got me trained, huh?”

“Woof,” Chino barked, then looked up at the jar.

“I don’t think so, madam.”

“Woof!”

Dar peeked inside, then slid her long body around the doorjamb and padded barefoot across the tile, going right to the jar and taking a biscuit out for the puppy, which Chino crunched contentedly.

“Dar!”

The taller woman paused, blinked, then removed a second biscuit and handed it to Kerry. “Sorry. Didn’t know you liked them,” she drawled. “Try some peanut butter on it.”

“Hah, hah.” She tossed the cookie back, as Dar caught it one handed.

“You spoil her so much.”

“Mmm,” Dar acknowledged, a trifle sheepishly. “Seems to be a habit of mine lately.” She slid an arm around Kerry, who had sidled closer, and welcomed the warmth of her body against the kitchen’s air conditioned chill. “Maybe I’m coming down with a virus.”

Kerry snorted into the cotton of her shirt. “You’d be more likely to 106 Melissa Good write a virus than catch one. You’re disgustingly healthy, Dar. Did you know that? I’ve had two colds and a stomach flu since I’ve known you and you haven’t caught anything.”

Dar chuckled. “My body knows how much I hate being sick and it hates putting up with me so much, if I do catch something, it pretends not to notice.” She considered. “I can’t even remember the last time…oh, wait, yes I can.” Her eyes rolled. “I caught food poisoning from the cafeteria at some account I was…consolidating.”

“Ew.” Kerry winced. “I’ve never had it but Mike did once, and the colors he turned would have done Van Gogh proud.”

“Yeah. I was so sick I didn’t stop throwing up for…God, it seemed like forever,” Dar acknowledged. “I finally ended up just staying in the bathroom. I was too weak to get up.” She pensively paused. “Long couple of days.”

Kerry’s brow creased. “Why didn’t you call someone to help you?

God, Dar.”

The blue eyes studied her. “There wasn’t anyone to call,” she replied, very simply. “It was in my old place in the grove. Just me and a few liz-ards.”

It struck her, now, the realization of just how alone Dar had been before they’d met. “Wow,” she touched the dark haired woman comfortingly, “well, if your body happens to forget now rest assured you’ll be taken care of.”

Dar’s lips briefly tensed into a smile. “That might be worth getting sick for,” she allowed, resting her forearms on Kerry’s shoulders. “So,”

her eyes went to the window, “what do you feel like doing today?”

“Well, we’ve both got inboxes to clear…and laundry. We could get caught up on everything for a change.”

“Mmm.” Dar sounded very noncommittal.

“Or, we could laze around together on the couch all day and watch cartoons.”

A frank, unrepentant grin flashed back at her.

“Okay. So. Now that we’ve got that settled, go find Space Ghost, and I’ll bring out the coffee and whatever I find for breakfast.”

Dar obediently ambled out into the living room and flipped the TV

on. Grabbing the remote, she found a nice, soft spot on the couch to curl up on, wincing a bit as the cold leather took its time warming to her body.

Thunder rolled outside, and she lay down on her side, propping her head up with one hand as she surfed.

Always liked rainy days, she reflected idly, listening to the hard pattering outside. They were good times to read, or watch old movies, or... A grin played over her face, remembering the long summer afternoons on the base spent constructing models. Much to her mother’s despair. All those intricate, tiny pieces and the scent of glue, so carefully painted and put into place.

Haven’t thought about that in forever. How many hours had she lost herself in those? All the ships of the fleet, each with its proper, exact Eye of the Storm 107

markings and then coming home from college one time, and finding them gone. Given to some shelter or other because her mother thought she’d outgrown them.

She’d rarely ever been that angry. She hadn’t spoken to her mother for a month after that, until her father had sought her out and made peace. Like always, able to bridge their differences with his love for her mother and his understanding of Dar, they’d depended on him for that.

Maybe that was why after he was gone…

Dar sighed, releasing the memories as Kerry entered, bearing a small tray with two steaming cups and a basket of something that smelled cin-namony and sweet. “Ooo…what have we here?” She grinned at her lover.

“A nice healthy breakfast, I see.”

Kerry stuck her tongue out. “We’re low on bean sprouts. I had to improvise.” She set the tray down with the coffee and cinnamon rolls and then took a seat on the wide couch next to Dar’s sprawled form. “I didn’t think you’d object.” She tore a roll in half and offered it to her lover.

“Nope.” Dar chewed the sweet pastry contentedly, saving a small piece for the cream colored Labrador head that magically appeared in front of her face. Then she licked her fingers off and took a sip of her coffee, put it back down, and curled an arm around Kerry to bring her closer.

“Hmm.” The blonde woman relaxed onto her side and pressed her back against Dar’s warmth, sharing the colorful, soft throw pillow. “Oh yeah. I can deal with this all day.” She yawned and snuggled closer. “I like rainy days.” Idly, she picked up a few bits of mail lying on the table and sorted through them. “How did we get on a mailing list for X rated videos?”

Dar lifted her head to peer at the item. “Mmm…videos…means video recorders, which means electronics, which means high technology which means computers. Can you figure out how we got on a list for that?”

Kerry paused and thought. “Nope.” She shrugged and chucked the mail, which Chino ran and retrieved for her, setting it down hopefully next to the couch. “Let’s see…your Microsoft newsletter. Want that?”

“No.”

“Here you go, Chino. What about the small computer book club offer?”

“Oh. Right. I need more small computer books.”

“Right.” Toss. “Invitation to a time share in Las Vegas?”

“Nah. They don’t like me there,” Dar responded. “I know too much about the systems programming.”

“Okay.” Kerry peered at the next envelope. “Oh. You’re having a class reunion.”

A brow arched.

She passed the envelope back. “Here. Oh wait. Don’t move. I’ll open it.”

Dar hadn’t stirred an inch. “Did I say I wanted to see it?” she grum-108 Melissa Good bled, then sighed as Kerry opened the green and orange striped envelope and pulled out its contents. “I’m not going.”

“Aw.” Kerry read with interest. “Why not? It’s here next weekend. It looks like fun, Dar. It’s a ‘come as you were’ party.” She showed the flyer to her lover. “C’mon.”

A blue eye pinned her. “High school wasn’t a time I remember all that fondly, Kerry. I think I was voted ‘Girl Most Likely To Be Incarcer-ated.’” She chuckled self deprecatingly. “It was the start of that rebellious phase I mentioned.”

“All the more reason,” the blonde woman responded. “Don’t you want to go back there and prove otherwise? Didn’t you really get a kick out of doing that with your relatives?”

Hmm. A brow lifted in thought.

“I wouldn’t call it a kick,” Dar murmured, then shook her head. “No.

I really didn’t get along with the crowd that’s organizing this.” She pointed at some names. “Key Clubbers. Bet they haven’t changed.” She gave Kerry a suspicious look. “Why are you so enthusiastic about this?”

Kerry grinned, her nose wrinkling up cheerfully. “I want to indulge my newly discovered hedonistic tendencies. I want to see you in leather.”

She got a definite “look” in return. “You what?”

“And chains and the torn clothes.” Green eyes sparkled. “Though,”

Kerry riffled through Dar’s hair, “I think we can fake the spikes.”

Dar started laughing. “Jesus, Kerry. You gotta be kidding. I don’t have that stuff around anymore and even if I did, it’d never fit.” Then she remembered the boxes still sealed in the storage area. She bit her lip. Nah.

A finger touched her nose. “I bet we could find something,” Kerry coaxed. “C’mon, Dar. Hey. Tell you what. I’ll even rent you a motorcycle or something for the night.”

Dar clapped a hand over her eyes. “How d’you even know I know how to ride one?” she objected faintly. “Kerry, I can’t just—”

“Sure you can. Lots of people go to their high school reunions.”

Long fingers drummed on the couch’s leather surface. “Okay,” Dar finally responded. “On one condition.”

Triumph! Kerry squirmed around and faced her, with a delighted grin. “Name it.”

Now it was Dar’s turn to grin. “You come with me.”

A snort. “Of course. You think I’d let an opportunity like this go by?

Me and the digital camera—”

“Dressed the same way,” the low voice interrupted her slyly.

Kerry stopped and blinked. “Uh.” Slowly a finger pointed at her own chest. “Me?” Her face scrunched up in comedic dismay, as she fingered her Tweety shirt. “Dar, I’m not very convincing in leather. Really.”

Dar waited, her eyes twinkling.

Kerry sighed. “Well, okay. I’m pretty sure I’ll look goofy, but if that’s what it takes, that’s what I’ll do.” She gave Dar a firm nod. “Kerry, Biker Chick, will be there.”

Hmm. Dar let a chuckle escape as they snuggled together, and the Eye of the Storm 109

thunder rolled around them. This might even be kind of fun.

IT WAS STILL raining as Kerry pulled up to the office. She tugged up her rain hood before she ducked out of the Mustang and made the short dash to the front door. The security guard saw her coming and stepped on the plate, making the glass portals open and letting her inside with only a minimum drenching. “Morning, Ms. Stuart.”

“Hi. Morning.” Kerry pushed her hood back and shook her head, scattering a few droplets from her hair. “Wow. Lousy weather, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guard peered behind her expectantly. “Ms. Roberts coming along with you?”

Kerry smiled. “No. She’s got a meeting this morning.” Not true.

“She’ll be by in a bit.” Dar was, in reality, not far behind her, but they decided to take separate cars this week, since their unwelcome board member was roaming around and Kerry had been assigned to escort him.

Neither of them went out of their way to hide their relationship, but there was no point in advertising it to the already antagonistic Ankow.

She was alone in the elevator and remained that way as she got out on the fourteenth floor—not surprising given the hour. María was in, though, and she smiled at the secretary as she poked her head in Dar’s outer office. “Morning.”

“Ah. Good morning, Kerrisita.” María smiled back. “Is terrible weather, no?” Her eyes went to the barely visible hallway behind Kerry’s head. “Dar is not with you?”

It occurred to Kerry that coming separately might possibly cause more comment than just arriving together would. “She took her car,” she explained. “Is our visitor here yet?”

The dark head shook no. “His plane is landing at nine. We are sending Consuelo for him.”

Ah, Consuelo. Not a bad idea. “Is she still moonlighting as a dancer?”

“Sí.” María smiled primly. “Is so cultural, no?”

Kerry bit off a grin. “Absolutely. Hey, Maríana tells me she’s gotten approval for my assistant. I hear it’s someone familiar.” She’d been surprised at the move and astounded at the person Maríana had hired for her. They’d been putting off the addition for a while, with Kerry stating she really didn’t need one, more to prevent having to deal with the awkwardness of bringing a stranger in than anything else. But now, with all the new projects, it was unfair to ask María to coordinate for both of them and Maríana had gone ahead, putting Kerry’s fears to rest by hiring María’s young daughter whom she and Dar already knew.

Who also knew about them and was a quiet, reserved girl not much for spreading rumors around.

María beamed. “Mayte is so excited. She spent the entire weekend choosing what clothes and how to do her hair. She cannot wait to start.

She will be here at nine also to do her paperwork.”

“Great.” Kerry waved. “Gotta go get ready for my squiring assign-110 Melissa Good ment. See you later, María.” She pulled her head back out and went down the hallway into the little alcove where her office door was.

There, she paused, watching the busy activity. A small room just off to one side had been used for storage and now everything was being moved out. To the left, a handsome wooden desk stood on one end, waiting to go in, and behind that an MIS cart was parked with a PC and monitor on it. She poked her head in the room as the last of the boxes left and nodded.

It wasn’t huge, about twelve feet square, but it was carpeted, and the walls were clean, with soft blue soundproofing weave on them.

“Excuse me, Ms. Stuart.” A polite voice made her jump and she ducked out of the way as the maintenance worker maneuvered the desk through the door and got it positioned. Then he glanced up and wiped his brow. “This all right?”

Kerry blinked. “Um.” She studied the room. “Yes. Sideways to that wall would be good, I think. It’s near the powerstrip.”

He nodded. “I always like to ask. ’Specially with you ops people.

Dear Lord knows I was in that office,” he pointed towards hers, “hours getting things how Ms. Roberts wanted ’em.”

It was an unexpectedly revealing moment, and Kerry smiled. “Well, you did a great job. I didn’t have to move a thing.” She patted the doorframe and left the man to his work, going through her door and into her office and closing it behind her. Her eyes moved around the now familiar confines. “Hours, huh? And you let me think it was just an extra office you had hanging around.” She chuckled and went to her desk, flipped the switch to turn on her PC, then wandered over to the window while it booted.

It was dark and gloomy outside, with sheets of rain still falling over the drenched landscape, and fractious whitecaps lashing the shoreline just visible from her window and ruffling even the usually calm waters of Biscayne Bay, which the office overlooked. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll close the airport,” she remarked. “Or make him land in Tampa.”

Not likely. MIA was used to this weather and only ever shut down in the worst possible scenarios, such as tornado watches and hurricanes.

Her phone buzzed, and she sighed, then turned and eyed the display. Ah. She punched a button. “Morning, Mark.”

“Hey. Where’s the boss?” The MIS manager’s voice was preoccupied.

“She’s not answering in her office.”

“Probably because she’s not here yet,” Kerry answered dryly.

“Oh. I saw your IP come active so I figured she’d be around,” Mark replied. “I’ll page her. Thanks.”

He hung up, and Kerry shook her head, then looked up as a knock came at the door. “What is this? Did the entire building come in early today? C’mon in!”

Maríana opened the door and entered, carrying several folders and small pot of geraniums. “Morning, Kerry. Your new administrative assistant is starting today.”

Eye of the Storm 111

“I know. I saw the movers outside.”

“Right. Okay, here’s her profile. We’ve already done the background and government screening and she came out clean.”

“I’d hope so. Since she’s barely twenty.” Kerry took the folder and put it on her desk. “We got to meet her at her sister’s quinces not too long ago. She’s really nice.”

Maríana nodded. “Yes, she is. She’s got nice things to say about you, too.” She smiled at the younger woman. “Not that people generally don’t have, mind you.” She took a seat in Kerry’s visitor’s chair. “Which reminds me.”

Uh oh. Kerry sat down, and rested her arms on her desk.

“Your six month evaluation is coming up.”

Ah. “I know.”

The Personnel VP considered a moment, sucking on her lower lip.

“Usually, the person who does that is your direct supervisor.”

Kerry nodded, folding her hands. “I don’t see any need to deviate from that,” she told the woman calmly.

“Kerry,” Maríana lowered her voice, “the purpose is to get an objective report on your professional qualifications.”

“And Dar can be very objective,” she responded. “She always has been. Right from the start. When I do things right, I get commended.

When I do things wrong, and I have, I get reprimanded, just like everyone else.”

The older woman looked surprised. “Really?”

“Really. I’ve gotten called on the carpet several times and believe me, it hurts,” Kerry admitted. “But it’s never personal, Mari. It’s all very

‘you did this, you should have done that, this is what happened, don’t let it happen again kind of stuff.’” She shrugged. “Just like everyone else.”

“Hmm.”

“The only difference is, after a day when that happens, I get to go home and get a big hug.” Kerry’s lips pressed into a thin smile. “And I try not to let it happen very often. So, no. I’m pretty sure I’ll get an objective report, as objective as anyone else would give, at any rate.” She paused.

“At least I’ll know she’s not holding the fact that I’m sleeping with my boss against me.”

Maríana winced.

“I trust her,” Kerry added, very softly.

“All right.” Mari held up a hand. “You’ve made good points. Let me go drop off the forms in her office. Mind if I use your back way?”

She sighed. “Go ahead. But she’s not in yet. I don’t think.”

“Really? Something wrong? You guys all right?” Concerned hazel eyes studied her.

Kerry threw up her hands. “We were trying to be inconspicuous for a week while that board member’s here. Instead, I think the most talked about thing in the lunchroom’s going to be the fact we didn’t drive in together.”

Maríana stared at her, then laughed. “Oh, my god. That is so true,”

112 Melissa Good she admitted, lifting her hands with the geranium and all, and letting them drop. “Apologies, Kerry. It’s just that you get used to a routine around here and when it changes, people notice.” She held up the plant.

“This, for instance. I gave it to Duks, because he was moaning that his office has no color.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm. Except he’s had to explain a dozen times to people why he’s suddenly showing an interest in horticulture. He gave up and made me take it back. Said he’d just go out and get a couple of beer steins instead or put a stuffed fish on the wall.”

Kerry laughed.

“All right, Kerry. I’ll send Mayte over when she gets done with her paperwork. Hopefully that’ll be before our guest shows up.” She waved her geranium and walked out, leaving behind a scent of earth, flowers, and Chanel.

Kerry sighed and shook her head, then turned and opened up her mail program, watching the inbox fill to bursting with lots of little exclamation points indicating urgent messages. “Happy Monday.”