Eye of the Storm

Chapter

Eighteen

“I DID NOT jinx you.” Kerry brought the bottle of medicine into the living room, lit with the first rosy tint of dawn. “So don’t you blame me.”

She sat down next to the grumpy, miserable figure on the couch, who was cradling her head in her hands. “It’s not like I wanted to see you sick, Dar.”

Dar sighed. “I know.” She swallowed, trying to tame a rebellious stomach that had kept her up all night, in bouts of nauseous spasms.

“God, I hate being sick.”

“Well, I don’t think many people enjoy it.” Kerry poured a spoonful of the medication and held it up. “C’mon.”

Dar gave her a pathetic look, then winced and accepted the offering, swallowing it with a grimace. “Jesus.”

Kerry pushed the dark, disheveled hair out of her lover’s eyes, then felt her forehead. “I don’t think you have a fever. It’s probably just a bug.” She’d woken to find Dar huddled miserably in the bathroom and tried to find a way to make the poor thing more comfortable. “You’re definitely staying home today.”

“C’mon. You know I can’t do that,” Dar muttered.

“Dar! You most certainly can,” Kerry protested. “Don’t be goofy.

You are not in any condition to go to work so just get over it.” She rubbed the terrycloth covered back. “Curl up here with Chino, and watch cartoons, okay?”

Dar briefly considered ignoring the suggestion, then held her breath as another spasm hit her. Well, I could always go in and throw up all over Ankow. That might be satisfying, at least for the moment, but she knew Kerry was right. “You’ll have to sit in on the Marketing meeting for me.”

“Ew.” Kerry made a face. “Can I call in sick too? I’d rather hang out here and watch Space Ghost and take care of you.”

Dar looked at her.

Kerry sighed. “Okay, okay. It was just an idea.”

“I appreciate the thought.” The blue eyes flicked to her face and a bit of a grin appeared for a second. “Don’t stay too late, huh?”

That was better. Kerry smiled. “I’ll see if I can get out of there after the meeting. I don’t have anything scheduled for later on.” She stood up and tugged her jacket straight, then she walked into the bedroom and pulled 160 Melissa Good open a drawer. She removed a soft, fluffy blue blanket and brought it back with her. “Here,” she tucked the blanket around her sick friend,

“keep the phone by you, okay?”

Dar exhaled, then gave up and curled up on the couch on her side, bringing her knees up to ease the cramping in her guts. “Okay.” She glanced up to see Kerry gazing at her, the torn emotions very evident.

“What?”

Kerry scowled unhappily. “I think I hate you being sick more than you do,” she muttered. “I feel like such a turd for leaving you here.”

The cool leather felt good against her skin, as Dar rested her head on the couch arm. “It’s all right.” She felt absurdly contented with the reaction. “Go on. You’re going to hit traffic.”

“Mmph.” The blonde woman still wasn’t pleased. “Chino, you take care of mommy Dar, okay?” The puppy was curled up at Dar’s feet, her pale head resting on one bare foot, and she blinked at Kerry’s words.

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Sure,” Dar agreed, biting the inside of her lip.

Reluctantly, Kerry retrieved her keys and briefcase and left, not without several aggravated backwards glances. She locked the door and headed down the steps, surprised at how much she had to force herself not to turn right around and go back. “Jesus, Kerry. Would you chill out?

She’s just got a stomach virus. Calm your butt down already.”

She got into the Mustang and started it, then leaned on the steering wheel and gazed at the condo. Long fingers drummed on the wheel, then she sighed, and put the car into gear and backed out of her parking spot, starting towards the ferry as she punched a number into her cell phone.

“Good Morning, Dar Roberts’ Office.”

“Morning, María.” Kerry smiled, as she realized she’d unconsciously modeled her tone after Dar’s.

“Aye. Buenos días, Kerrisita. How are you?”

“Well,” Kerry glanced in the rearview mirror, “I’m fine but Dar’s not going to make it in today.”

María’s voice took on a concerned tone immediately. “What is wrong? She is not feeling well?”

“No, some kind of stomach bug.” Kerry sighed. “She was up all night sick. Anyway, I’ve got to sit in a meeting for her this afternoon.

Could you call Eleanor’s admin and sniff out the chances of moving the meeting to this morning?” She knew María would have a better chance at that then her newly commissioned Mayte.

“Sí, sí.” María wrote something. “I will do that. Is there anything that Dar needs?”

A nanny? Kerry swallowed the comment. “No. She’s just going to take it easy. I’m sure she’ll sign on from here later.” True, knowing Dar.

“At least I hope so,” she added, wondering if there was enough medicine in the house. Should she have some Dramamine sent? What about…

“Kerrisita?”

“Oh, sorry. Did you say something?” Kerry drove onto the ferry Eye of the Storm 161

carefully, and put the Mustang into park for the short trip to the main-land.

“I was saying to drive carefully. There was terrible traffic this morning.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She hung up the phone and nibbled her fingernail. “Now what did we always take for an upset stomach? Pepto…Kaopectate…Dramamine…warm cola.” She dialed another number, and waited for it to be answered. “Hi. Yes, this is Kerry Stuart.

Oh, hi, Mrs. Eveans. Yes. Listen, can you have some stuff sent up to the apartment?” She spent a few minutes listing things, then hung up. “Okay.

I feel a little better now.” She drummed her fingers again. “Wonder if the marina store has those seasickness bands…maybe they’d help.” Tones sounded over the roar of the ferry’s engines.

KERRY PULLED INTO the parking lot and sat for a moment, leaning on the steering wheel and collecting her composure. “Jesus, that was close,” she muttered, clearing her mind of the driver bearing down on her from the wrong side of the street, whom she’d only just missed crashing into. She got out and grabbed her briefcase, then straightened her jacket with an automatic twitch and headed towards the building.

“Morning, Ms. Stuart,” the guard greeted her cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Kerry replied, suppressing a soft curse when she saw who was bearing down on her from across the lobby. “Then again, maybe not.” She arranged a neutral look on her face as David Ankow joined her.

“Well, you are the early bird, aren’t you?” he asked mildly.

“Best time of the day to get things done,” Kerry answered, shifting her briefcase. “Before all the distractions show up, I mean, crop up.” He wasn’t sure it was an insult, Kerry knew, but he suspected. She kept an open, inquiring look on her face just in case. “Something I can do for you?”

“Just thought I’d spend the day following you around. Get a feel for what it is you do.” Ankow smiled pleasantly at her. “Where’s your…bitchy roommate?”

Kerry started walking towards the elevator. “Oh, probably lying on the rug chewing some cookies,” she replied. “Or maybe chasing flies. She likes that.” She entered the elevator, then turned and waited for him to join her, the look on his face priceless. “What’s wrong?”

Ankow stepped past her and eyed her warily. “That’s funny,” he said. “A joke, right?”

Innocent green eyes widened as the doors closed. “Joke?” Kerry asked, puzzled. “You asked me where my dog was didn’t you?” She pressed the button for the fourteenth floor. “Guess you saw her picture on my desk. She’s cute, isn’t she?”

“Adorable,” Ankow answered, with a slight flare of his nostrils.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, until the doors opened and 162 Melissa Good they exited, and Kerry turned purposefully right and headed towards her office. Mayte was already there, following her mother’s schedule, and Kerry waved. “Morning, Mayte.” Her eyes and the girl’s met, and Mayte’s shifted fractionally to Ankow, then rolled slightly.

“Good morning, Ms. Kerry. I was going down for some cafecito.

Would you like some?” Mayte stood up and brushed her plain, but well cut dark blue dress off. She was a tall, slim girl with dark hair and eyes, and a pretty, slightly elfin face.

“I’d love some.” Kerry opened her office door. “Any for you?” she inquired, glancing at Ankow.

“No thanks,” he muttered, brushing by her. “I’d like to live past forty, thanks.”

Mayte stuck her tongue out at his back and made a gesture, then escaped, leaving Kerry to gather the already shredded edges of her patience and enter her office. Knew I should have stayed home. She sighed inwardly.

Ankow stood near the window, peering out of it at the sunlit water.

Kerry ignored him, sat down at her desk, flipped her PC on, and pulled the folder off the top of her inbox. A soft buzz of the intercom alerted her and she lifted the receiver of her phone instead of allowing the speakerphone to pick up. “Hello?”

“Ah, Kerrisita.” María’s voice filtered through. “I have gotten them to move your meeting to ten o’clock, if that is okay.”

“Perfect.” Kerry was relieved.

“And I also rescheduled the conference call with the overseas group.

I hope you do not mind. It was to be at four, and I thought you might have something else to do then.”

Kerry suppressed a smile. “Thanks, María. I really appreciate that.”

She was aware of the silent, censorious presence at her back. “Anything on the boards this morning?”

“There is nothing, no.”

“All right. Let me know if anything crops up. I’ve got a ton of stuff on my plate here.” Kerry hung up the phone and opened her folder, studying the operations reports run an hour before her arrival. “Mr.

Ankow, you can sit down if you like.” She checked the usage tallies and took out a highlighter, marking several spikes that had run their main systems to almost capacity. “Wow.”

Ankow moved over to peer over her shoulder in a really annoying way. “What is that?”

Kerry dialed a number. “Utilization reports,” she answered absently, as it was picked up. “Mark?”

“Who else?”

“Did you see the U report this morning?”

“The one that made me put analyzers on all three big pipes? That one?”

“Let me know what you find. I bet I’ve got a mailbox full of slow-down complaints.” Kerry sighed as she clicked on her email, and watched Eye of the Storm 163

it open, then fill with line after line of exclamation points. “Oh yeah.”

“Will do.” Mark hung up, and Kerry went back to studying the report, then bent her head as she spotted something.

“Son of a…” She flipped through another few pages, then went to her PC, opened a session and requested information from the big database. She pushed back from her desk and jerked to a halt, almost slamming into Ankow. “Excuse me.”

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing a problem. That’s what I get paid to do.” Kerry glanced up at him. “You can go over there and sit down, or you can stand by the window, but I need to be able to do my job.”

He moved, but only far enough to sit down on the edge of her desk.

“Don’t like being watched, hmm?”

“I don’t like being hovered over, no.” Kerry pulled her fanfold report over and scanned it, then flipped to a center page and tracked a line across the bottom of it. “I knew it.” She dialed Mark back. “Mark?”

“Hey. It takes an hour or so, Kerry.”

“Don’t bother. Check out the job request from Houston. It’s buried in about three layers of subroutines.”

“Huh?” The sound of rapid keystrokes came clearly through the intercom. “What the hell’s that?”

Kerry sat back and folded her arms. “I don’t know. But if I had to give an opinion I’d say it looked like someone was dumping load on the system to stress it.” Her green eyes found Ankow’s face and fastened there. “Why don’t you call Brian up at CLIPC and see who made the request then pull the plug on them?”

“Son of a frigging bitch…”

“And tell CLIPC I want a filter on Houston. No big requests get through without my personal authorization.”

“They’re gonna have a fit.”

“Let them,” Kerry replied. “Make it one way, though. I don’t want Maríana to have a problem transmitting the payroll files later on today.”

“You got it. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll have the checkpoint in place. Good catch, Kerry. I’d have had to wait half the morning for the IP

analysis.”

“No problem.” Kerry pressed the button, then waited, her eyes on her unwelcome visitor. “When I find out who requested that, I’m going to file a formal protest,” she informed him, “for deliberate and malicious endangerment of ongoing business operations. That impacted a lot of customers.”

“Really? Interesting.” Ankow didn’t rise to the bait. He did rise, however, and stroll over to the wall, studying her certifications idly.

Kerry let out a frustrated but silent breath, then turned her attention to her inbox. “If you want to sit down, I’ll just be over here cleaning up that mess.” She opened a blank message and started composing a standard reply to the complaints.

It was going to be a very long morning.

164 Melissa Good CECILIA HELD HERSELF in the dream for as long as she could. It was one she’d had countless times over the years. Memories really, she knew. Ones her mind pulled out of the corners and crevices she’d hidden them in when she had no control over things.

And the waking was the worst, because she could still, half in her dream, feel the close warmth and breathe the scent of him, which would fade as she came closer to waking, fade, and weaken until she opened her eyes.

To nothing. Just an empty spot in the bed next to her and the bleak sunlight coming in the window, silent and harsh.

Reluctantly, she let the world intrude.

But this time, this one morning, the dream refused to loose its clutches on her, and the sense of being surrounded by a strong hold remained, until her confused, sleep fogged mind forced her eyes open into a room overwhelmingly full of her dreams.

Then memory hit with a rush, and she exhaled in pure joy.

It was late. Far later than she usually slept, but considering where she woke up, she couldn’t blame herself one bit. Shy they might be with each other, but after thirty some years of marriage, their bodies had merely waited for their pesky upper brains to slip off to sleep, then cuddled with each other in warm familiarity.

Strange. She’d forgotten, of all things, just how big Andrew was. He surrounded her with a living cradle of long arms and longer legs, and she found herself sleeping with her head on his shoulder and an arm wrapped snugly around him. It was a nice feeling, and one she’d always enjoyed, watching his chest move under her arm as he breathed.

He was thinner than she remembered, but there was still solid power through the broad shoulders and in the arms that were loosely wrapped around her. His face held a terrible record of pain though, outside the scars that her eyes hardly saw now, there were creases etched around his eyes and mouth that made her wince to imagine the prolonged agony that had caused them.

Andy had never been pretty. Ceci gazed at the strong, rugged face.

Just full of character and strength and a powerful sense of self that had attracted her from the very moment she’d seen him.

And still did. Ceci sighed soundlessly, unsurprised when a very blue eyeball appeared and focused on her. “Hey sailor,” she whispered, watching the look of startled surprise chase itself on and off her husband’s face.

His eyebrows twitched, then he relaxed. “Hey there, pretty lady,” he drawled in response, evidently deciding to dispense with any attempt at the half awkward bashfulness of the previous evening.

“Think you stole the covers.”

Andy scowled. “It’s a damn small bed.”

She smiled. “You’re a darn big boy.” She patted his side. “And a very, very, very welcome sight to wake up to.”

“Same here.” He tightened his grip a little. “Do I even wanta know Eye of the Storm 165

how many bells it is?”

“No.”

“S’what I thought.”

Ceci closed her eyes and let her heart float in a happy, lazy peace.

They had plenty of time.

DAR WAS CURLED up in an amazingly small ball for someone her size. She had her eyes closed and her head resting against the couch arm, and was thoroughly, totally, unbelievably miserable. Rather than better, the nausea and cramping had gotten worse, and she’d finally resorted to simply keeping a container next to the couch, in case the violent dry heaves produced anything further.

So far, all they’d gotten her was a mind splitting headache and a very sore body. The television played softly in the background, but she mostly concentrated on taking short, shallow breaths, and wishing she were dead.

Chino was lying on the couch next to her—unusually quiet for the generally rambunctious puppy, as though she sensed her friend wasn’t feeling well. Occasionally, she’d lift her head and give Dar’s ankle a lick, then put her muzzle back down and sigh.

A soft knock came at the door, and Dar groaned. Another knock, then a familiar voice. “Ms. Roberts?”

Oh God. Dar uncurled slightly, enough to give her diaphragm room to expand and sucked in a chancy breath. “C’mon in, Clemente.”

The door opened and the resident services manager poked his head in. “Oh my goodness, you are not feeling well, I can see that.”

Dar merely rolled an eyeball at him.

“I will just drop off these things and be on my way.” Clemente hurried in with a bag and set it on the coffee table. “Let me take them out for you. Is it a stomach virus you have?”

“Yeah.” Dar lifted her head a little. “What is that?”

The earnest Cuban settled on one knee and started unpacking. “Far-macia. We have the stomach medicine and for the nausea and some coca cola. I have some plain broth here, I will put it in the kitchen for you, yes?”

She blinked. “Uh. Sure, sure…wh…Clemente…where did all this come from?”

Clemente paused, looking puzzled. “Ms. Kerry called the market for you. Did you not know?”

Ah. Of course. Stupid me. “Right. Right…great. Just leave it. I’m sure some of it will do something.” A tired smile appeared as more and more items made their way out of the box and piled up on the glass surface.

“She’s thorough, huh?” An affectionate thought winged its way towards her lover.

Clemente looked up. “Yes, ma’am, for sure she most certainly is that.” The resident services manager set everything out, then stood and 166 Melissa Good brushed off his trousers. “I hope you feel better. Give us a call if there is something else you need, yes?”

“A harpoon.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind. Thanks, Clemente.” Dar watched him leave, then turned her head and studied the table. Her body chose that moment to cramp up though, and she grabbed the couch arm, leaning over and holding on until the spasm tapered off. A small, unhappy sound escaped her.

“Makes up for all the times I don’t get sick, Chino. The one time I do…oh boy.”

Chino whined.

Dar reached out a hand and poked her new acquisitions. “Trouble with all this stuff is I gotta put it on the inside and it ain’t staying there long.” Then she noticed a small package. “Hmm.” She lifted the seasickness bands up and eyed them speculatively. “They don’t…can’t hurt.”

She slipped the fabric bands on and settled the beads over the center of her wrists, then pulled her blanket more snugly around her and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would ease the discomfort a little.

“KERRY, A MOMENT please,” Eleanor called to her, as the meeting broke up and Kerry glanced at her watch.

Curses. “Sure.” She tapped her pencil on her notepad and considered her strategy. It was almost lunchtime, right? A glance at her watch again.

Well, eleven o’clock was someone’s lunchtime and surely if you came in at seven, as she had...

“Ah. Thank you.” Eleanor oozed up to her. “I was surprised not to see Dar here…problems?”

Kerry paused, deciding on whether or not to answer truthfully, then shrugged. “She got tied up with something. They’re trying to go beta with the new network next week. You know how it is.”

“Absolutely,” the Marketing VP agreed without hesitation. “And I agree—she should spend all the time she needs to with that. You’re much easier to deal with anyway.” She gave Kerry a smile that wasn’t totally snakelike. They’d come to sort of an understanding over the past few months, and Eleanor had become almost bearable. “How is the project coming?”

Kerry nodded. “Good. The structure’s in place. Now’s just the hard part, integration and testing.”

“It’ll be ready on time, you mean?” The pale gray eyes sharpened.

Kerry looked around carefully and lowered her voice. Ankow was in the corner chatting with José, and she didn’t want this little bit of information traveling. “Shh, don’t tell anyone, Eleanor but I think...”

“Yes?” The VP leaned closer as well.

“I think it’s going to be early,” she whispered. “Dar was asking me for some baseline projects she could ‘borrow’ as early as two weeks from now. I think she’s considering migrating them to check for traffic pat-Eye of the Storm 167

terns.”

“Really?” Eleanor fairly dripped with greedy delight. “I can’t wait to sell it. You have no idea how many people have been sniffing around, saying they’d heard we were putting up a new net and wanting the specs on it.”

Kerry smiled and wiggled an eyebrow at her. “Wish we could get that guy to buy into the project.” She nodded towards Ankow. “He just doesn’t get it.”

Eleanor regarded the tall, good looking man, then tapped one long, impeccably manicured nail against her lip. “I’m sure if he saw it from a sales perspective…” She gave Kerry a smile. “Me and José’ll take him to lunch. See what we can do.” She picked up her leather appointment book and slapped Kerry lightly on the side with it. Then she sauntered around the table and eased herself skillfully in to the conversation near the wall.

“You go, girl,” Kerry murmured under her breath, then picked her notepad up and lifted the conference room phone. After a moment, María answered. “Hi.”

“Dar has not called in yet, Kerrisita.”

Kerry pursed her lips. “I could have been asking for status on the relay outage in Newark.”

“Sí, you could,” the secretary agreed, amiably.

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll give her a buzz.” Kerry disconnected, then tapped the receiver against her chin. She watched Eleanor and José maneuver Ankow out of the conference room, then returned the pleasant smiles of the junior marketing people left to clean up.

They liked her. Kerry smiled back at them. Everyone pretty much did, she’d realized, after they’d gotten used to her, and used to the idea of someone else working in Dar’s territory, who, while being completely and unshakably loyal to her supervisor, could be approached in a far different way. And since she and Dar kept their relationship strictly out of the office, even those people uneasy at that aspect had grown comfortable in dealing with her.

“Hey, Kerry,” one of the regional assistants said. “See you at the gym tonight?”

“Not tonight,” she responded regretfully. “I’ve got an offsite meeting this afternoon, then something I’ve got to take care of later.”

“Bummer. We’ll miss you. Can’t wait for the next defense class to start.” The woman picked up her portfolio and tucked it under her arm.

“Thanks for a great meeting. See ya.”

Kerry went out with them and headed for her office, glad of the peace and quiet as she circled her desk and sat down. “Let’s see.” She checked her mail. “No more exclamation points. I like that.” She riffled through her mostly depleted inbox. “Looking good.” She checked the logon report and saw Dar’s name conspicuous by its absence and made her decision. She keyed the intercom. “Mayte.”

“Yes, Ms. Kerry?”

“I’m…um…”

168 Melissa Good

“Going home?” her admin supplied helpfully.

“Yeah. Guess your mom told you, huh?”

“She gave me what to say to people, yes,” Mayte agreed. “I have your pager and your cell. I will call you if there is anything.” A soft buzz was heard. “Hold on one moment.”

Kerry waited, until Mayte’s voice returned. “Ms. Kerry. It is my mother. She is looking to see if you are here. She has a call. She is not sure who it is.”

“All right. Put her through.” Kerry frowned. “María?”

“Sí. Kerrisita. There is someone calling here for Dar. I think it is her father.”

“Oh!” Kerry blurted. “Sure. God, put him on.” A click, then she leaned forward. “Hello?”

“Morning there, kumquat.”

Kerry smiled hugely and bounced in her chair, making it squeak in protest. He sounded so much better. “Hi, Dad. How’s it going?”

“Not bad. Where’s mah kid?”

“Ah. Well, she’s not doing so great, actually. She’s kinda sick,” Kerry explained. “She stayed home today. Was up most of the night throwing up and stuff.”

“Damn. Sorry to hear that,” Andrew responded. “Well, I was just callin’ to let you two know everything’s all right here. That’s ’bout all.”

“I’m so glad to hear that and I know Dar will be too.” Kerry started shutting her PC down. “Did you have everything you needed?” An impish grin formed on her face as she waited for the answer.

“Huh. Yeap. But you and I need to have a chit chat ’bout boy’s unmentionables when ah get back there.”

“Did I get the wrong size?” Kerry asked innocently.

“No, you did not.”

She could almost see the scowl. “They aren’t comfortable?”

“That is not the point, young lady.”

Kerry could hear a soft, muffled laugh in the background, and she realized, with a strange sense of wonder, that it was Cecilia. Forgot there’s two halves of this. “You didn’t like the color?”

“Kerrison.” Dar’s father’s voice dropped low, almost exactly like his daughter’s.

“Sorry, Dad. I only buy the very best for people I love,” she told him, softening her tone.

There was a period of silence on the other end, where she could hear a soft, mechanical sound she identified as an air conditioner cycling on and off. “You fight damn dirty, y’know that, young lady?” Andrew finally sighed. “All right. But you better be watching your back now, y’hear? I don’t go by the rules much neither.”

“Warning taken.” Kerry smiled. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a sick friend to take care of.” She paused. “Hey. How about I call you from the house? I bet Dar would love to say hi.”

There was a muffled sound. “All right,” Andrew agreed. “We were Eye of the Storm 169

just scrabblin’ up some breakfast.”

“Breakfast, hmm?” The green eyes twinkled.

“Not one word, young lady,” he rasped back. “Talk at you later.”

Kerry hung up and gathered her things, then slipped out the door.