Can't Touch This (27 page)

I’m on a roll and can’t stop myself.  “To the best of our knowledge, George never left the town he was born in, which he clearly and consistently states throughout the movie as his one wish in life.  For whatever reason, Bedford Falls owns him and keeps sucking him back into its vortex.”  I’m teetering on the edge.  “When God intervenes, even He, in saving poor George, keeps him within the city limits.  Then they sing, bells ring and we’re supposed to believe everything is okay?  That George is finally happy enough?  That his meager existence in that town will cut it?  I don’t think so.  It’s the most depressing movie ever.”

Kyle, Griz and Rick all stare in disbelief.

“Holy shit, Vanessa,” Griz says.  “Thanks a lot.  I’ll never be able to watch it the same way ever again.”

Someone please stamp an “L” on my forehead.  I’m a complete loser.

Kyle moves his arm to my shoulder, his eyes brimming with concern.  I don’t blink as he gazes at me.  He probably thinks I should be committed after a speech like that.  And I should be.

Then, he moves close to my ear.  In a voice where only I can hear, he says, “Someone hurt you something awful, didn’t they?”

*****

T
he pity in Kyle’s
voice continues to ring through my head as I recount everything to William post-party.  It continues through the weekend of no phone calls from Griz and sleepless nights, tossing, turning and listening to Mr. Paulsen’s upstairs snores penetrate the thin ceiling.  Kyle’s words reverberate Monday morning at my desk while I try to focus on banquet orders for the Newport Beach, New Orleans, and Tucson client services meetings.

Maybe I should apologize to everyone for my tirade.  It wasn’t right of me to rain on Griz’s happiness parade.

I sit back and reach for a jumbo paperclip from the magnetized holder on my desk.  I straighten the long bit of metal and shape it into a “U” formation.  When I was younger, I used to do this and pretend they were braces.  Not that I needed them; I was just a strange little kid.  Now, I roll the metal around my desktop with my left hand while my right holds my chin.  I concentrate intently on what to do next in my quest to be a grown up.

The answer lies in Kyle Nettles.  I need to ask him about that near kiss in my cube.  I must find out if he feels anything for me.  I have to know if he’s interested enough to take the risk and see if this emotional magnetic pull we’ve got is for real.  You can’t fight what’s natural.  You can’t legislate attraction.

I pick up the phone to dial his extension when I hear him next to me, “Hey Vanessa.  You got a minute?”

I swallow hard and face him.  “Listen, about the other night—”

He holds up his hand.  “That’s why I stopped by.”

“I’m sorry,” we say in unison.

I furrow my brows.  “You’re sorry?  For what?”

He props his hip on the top of my desk and leans in.  “That was rude of me to say what I did.  You know, that thing about someone hurting you.”

I drop my head and toy with my hands in my lap for a moment.  “I’m sorry for going off on one of the most classic movies of all time.”

He chuckles.  “You know, I’d never thought about it before.  You do have a point.  George Bailey got screwed.  It can be a depressing movie.”

I lift my head and let a soft laugh escape.  “Thanks, Kyle.  Sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”

“It really is a movie of love, friendship, support, and hope.”  He pauses and then reaches out for my hand.  My fingers curl automatically into his and the zap of electricity sizzles all the way down to my double-socked, boot covered toes.  “Your assessment was cute.  You’re cute,” he says.

My insides do one of those crazy loop-dee-loops while I let his words soak in.  If I’m going to make a go at this with Kyle, it’s confession time.  “You were right, Kyle.”

He rubs my knuckle with his forefinger.  “How so?”

“Someone did hurt me.  Wicked bad.”  I gulp hard and wonder if I should clarify.  Not just yet.  Keep it generic for now.  “I’ve been a little bitter about guys lately.”

Kyle’s smile is warm and endearing.  “We’re not all bad.”

This is the first time I’ve allowed myself to enjoy the sensation of his skin on mine.  Before it was for fear of flying purposes.  This is something more.  A pressure low in my belly makes my body ache for him.  It feels so right sitting here with our fingers weaved together to the point where I can’t tell whose is whose.  This isn’t wrong, although company procedures would disagree.  Apparently Kyle, the guy I thought was Mr. Corporate through and through, agrees that some rules just need to be broken since he continues to rub my hand.

“Dude, there you are,” Rick shouts out as he approaches.

Kyle pulls away and stands up.  “What’s going on?”

Rick’s face is ashen and I have a horrible feeling something bad has happened.  I hope it’s not more problems with losing customers from SalesTracker’s shenanigans.  I thought things were going better now that we’d rolled out our enhancements to the customers.  Something’s making Rick’s eyes bug out though.

“Isabella and I just got out of Nancy Mendelssohn’s office.  Shit’s hitting the fan big time.”

I stand up.  “Why?  What did you do?”

“Too much fraternization at the company party,” he says flatly.  “Nancy reminded us of the policy against dating and said if we wanted to keep our jobs, we’ll keep our socializing to a professional level as to not ‘endanger’ the customer base.”

Kyle runs his hand through his hair, making it stand on end.  He shifts his eyes over to me and lets out a long sigh.  “Doesn’t this company have anything better to do — like make customers happy instead of torturing employees?”

“Is Griz okay?” I ask.

Rick lets out a puff of air.  “She was put on warning.  We both were.”

I shake my head to try and rearrange my scattered thoughts.  I told her.  I said she and Rick had to be careful, but did they listen to me?  Now they’re on some sort of probation and at risk to lose their jobs.  All for the pleasure of the flesh.

My eyes graze Kyle’s as my heart pings in sympathy over what Griz and Rick are going through.  I want Kyle so badly, yet I can’t have him.  I need this job.  I have to have the money.  My student loan won’t get paid on its own.  I refuse to rely on unemployment to get me through. I can’t be a failure.

Rick interrupts my thoughts.  “It gets worse, though.”

“How can it get worse?” Kyle asks.  He seems most frustrated, like he’s searching for a solution to this dilemma.

“After the holiday party, Reagan got a room at the Sonesta and charged it to her company AmEx card.”

“So?”

Continuing, Rick says, “Seems like she had some company.”

I cover my mouth with my hand.  “Tell me she didn’t...”

“She and Ted Spencer used company money for their sex romp.”

My chest tightens.  “She’s going to get fired.”

Rick sneers.  “She
got
fired.  Nancy and Jiles are updating the company manual to reflect harsher ‘no dating’ policies.  Something like, if you break the rule, not only do you lose your job, but you forfeit your vacation pay and stock options, as well.”

Kyle slams his fist down.  “This has nothing to do with running a profitable company, taking care of customers, or providing quality products.  It’s about controlling people’s lives.”

I’m relieved to hear Kyle stand up for employee’s rights and buck Little Baby Jesus’ way of management.  I don’t know what we can do about it, though.  We have to play by the rules or suffer the consequences.  Or find another job, which is easier said than done these days.  Reagan knew she was already walking on thin ice, yet she defied the rules.  Now she’s paying the price for her actions.  Our top salesperson—the woman who’s brought in more new business this year—is fired over being attracted to someone.

“What about Ted?” I ask.

“First offense,” Rick says.  “Warning, just like us.”

I look at Kyle’s profile and see the frustration cross his beautiful face.  He can’t change this any more than I can.  If we want to keep our jobs, we have to stay away from each other.  I’m here to work.  Not entertain my hormones.

Good thing I’m going on Christmas break soon.  Time away from the office and away from Kyle will do me some good.  It’ll give me time to put the Hazel-Eyed Hunk out of my mind.

Time to put my priorities back in order.

Griz, Rick, and Reagan took the chance and have marred their professional fate.

Well, Vanessa Virtue is
not
making that mistake.

“W
hat on God’s
green earth is that on your nose?” I ask Griz our first day back at work after the holidays.  Time away has done me good and I’m ready to attack work—not my stymied sex drive—head on, living up to my “Chef of the Year” award.

Griz points to the diamond chip on her left nostril.  “I got it pierced.  I think it’s sexy?”

“No, it’s not.  I want to flick at it.  What made you do that?”

She shakes her head.  “I got into a fight with my mom over Christmas and I needed to rebel.  She said Boston’s ruining me, so I did this.  I call it my nose jewel of defiance.”

“Well, that’ll show her,” I say with a snicker.

I spent Christmas with my parents, little sister, Victoria, and Sergeant, our faithful German shepherd.  It was good to be “home” around the people who have to love me.  I was able to forget about all of the work turmoil.  I put aside—the best I could—thoughts of Kyle and his hazel eyes.  I dodged my grown-up responsibilities for a week and luxuriated in my sister’s teen angst, my mother’s less-than-light cooking and my father’s recycled jokes before returning to my urban family.

Griz, who seems unfazed, prattles on about her mother.  “I did this when I got back, so she didn’t even see my pierced nose.  How insolent is that?  But she’ll flip when she sees it for the first time.”  Griz twirls the diamond chip around with her finger.  “She cried when I got my ears pierced because of the religious overtones.  She says the Bible tells you not to pierce your body because it’s a temple for God.  You’re not supposed to get tattoos either.  They’re the mark of the beast”

I clap my hands together and laugh.  “Sounds like a raucous good time at the Perry household this holiday season.”

“That’s what it’s like growing up a minister’s daughter.”

We laugh together, until Griz winces.  Her hand goes to her nose.  “That hurts so good—like acupuncture—when I laugh too hard.”

“Well,” I say, “you can never underestimate the power of a perfectly placed prick.”

“Is this a post-holiday party?” a male voice interrupts.

My Lord, it’s Kyle.  I hope he didn’t hear what I said!

Looking at him brings to life the floodgate of emotions toward him I thought I’d dammed up over Christmas break.  His hair is still damp from his morning shower and he smells lightly of musk.  His skin is bronzed; toasted like a slice of wheat bread, not pasty-white like most New Englanders.

“Happy New Year, ladies.  How’s it going?” he asks politely.

“Obviously not as good as you,” Griz says.

“Yeah, where’d you get that tan?”  I say a bit too flirty, hoping Darth Nancy doesn’t bound around the corner.

Kyle’s deep tawny color continues down his throat to the base of his neck, exposed by the open collar of his royal blue shirt.  This man looks more delicious every time I see him.  The color only makes his eyes stand out even more.  I realize I’ve missed talking to, working with, and just being around him, even if it was only for a week.

We can’t pick up where we left off with the near kiss and the sensual hand holding.  No more.  Griz may not care that she’s on probation, but I’m not going to be so irresponsible.

Kyle leans on the partition.  “I went to Hawaii with a college buddy.  It was amazing.”

“And you didn’t send me a postcard?” I say, not recognizing my own voice.

Griz nods approvingly and slides off my desk.

“No, but I got you this.”  He hands over a wrapped package.

“I’ll catch you later.  Bye, Kyle,” Griz sings out.

“See ya, Isabella.”

I take the shiny package and flip it over in my hand.  It’s bulky and round.  Too big to be a three carat diamond.  I rip the paper off and out pops a Magic 8-ball.

“I haven’t seen one of these in years.  Why’d you get me this?”

Kyle smiles and my toes involuntarily wiggle inside my shoes.  “I thought it would be an entertaining conversation piece to the rest of your office toys.  A ‘thank you’ for all the great work you’ve done.  Besides, with our client meetings about to start, we need all the good luck we can get.”

“That’s for sure,” I say, holding the 8-ball in my palm.  “Will our meetings be a success?”  I shake the ball and turn it to see the message in the window.  Kyle moves around and places his head near mine to get a better look.  I try not to breathe in the scent of him or acknowledge that my body is on fire with his nearness.  “AS I SEE IT YES.”

“Hey, that’s good,” I say, almost backing my chair into him.

“Let me try,” Kyle says, smiling.  “Will Vanessa Virtue go out with me?”  I swallow hard and look up at him.

“Yeah, right...”  He’s kidding, isn’t he?  Surely he remembers what happened to Griz, Rick, Reagan and Ted before the holiday break.

“And the 8-ball says, ‘OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.’”  Kyle tosses it on my desk.  “What the hell does it know, huh?”

“Umm.. .ahh... Kyle...”  Holy shit.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’ve never had a problem talking before now.  My dad called me “Motor Mouth” when I was little kid.  Lowering my voice, I say, “You know that’s not allowed.  Against company rules.”

“Some rules are meant to be broken, Vanessa.”

I put my hand on my hip.  “Some of us enjoy that direct deposit every two weeks so we can do pointless things like make rent, buy groceries, and pay off exorbitant student loans.”

“There’s more to life than money.”

“Easy for you to say, Kyle.  First off, you make a lot more than I do, so you have the luxury of saying that.  Secondly, you’re a guy, so you get to bend the rules more.  Women can’t.  That should be evident from Reagan’s firing.  I’m not willing to take that chance.”  No matter how cute you are, I almost add.