Can't Touch This (34 page)

Nancy clears her throat.  “You have fifteen minutes to pack your personal belongings and exit the building.  Please proceed to your cubes in an orderly fashion.”

Orderly fashion.  This isn’t a fire drill.

I bolt down the hallway, only to stop and look into the Bobby Orr room at the “other” meeting.  Everyone’s sitting around looking confused.  Griz and Rick have their heads bent together.  I see Jack and several others I know, but no Kyle.

Where is he?

“You only have a few minutes, Vanessa.”—Nancy’s standing behind me—“I wouldn’t waste any time.”

“Or else what?”

“You’re no longer employed here and don’t belong on the premises.  Now, please...”

Back at my desk, there’s a cardboard box in my chair.  Boy, they planned this out.  I stretch my arm and sweep all of my toys and marketing chotchke into the box, not caring how it lands.  I remove my personal files from the desk drawer.  Then I pick up my phone to leave a message for Kyle, but they’ve already disconnected it.  I wonder if my e-mail still works.  Yep.  They haven’t shut it off yet.

I open up a new message in Outlook and select “All Contacts” in the “To” field.  My message is simple, telling of my demise, and that the company has laid off a third of its staff.  I give my personal e-mail address in case anyone wants to keep in touch.  Without anally proofreading the message, I hit “Send.”

As I print out my contact info, I get a response to my “I’m Out of Here” e-mail from [email protected].

“What the hell?”  He’s supposed to be hiding out in Mexico and not back at SalesTracker.  I start to shake as I reach for the mouse and click on the message.

Nervously, I scan.

Wait a sec, it’s from Gene Cappucci.  He’s been monitoring Rory’s e-mail and thought he should respond.

I can’t believe I sent this message to our competition.  Stop.  Reverse.  Not
our
competition: 
their
competition.  I’m not on the team anymore.  Booted off the island.  Eliminated by the judges.  Voted off by the viewers.  Fine, whatever.  Serves them right for canning me.

I read Gene’s message: 
Vanessa, Sorry to hear what happened.  I hope it had nothing to do with the demo disk Rory got from you.  He said you gave it to him.  I never believed that.  I destroyed your disk because we already had one that a customer got from your president, Jiles, and I didn’t want it traced back to you.  You didn’t deserve that.  I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Rory, but you’re better off.  I wish you all the best.  Gene

Despite the current circumstances, relief cascades over me.  The whole demo disk fiasco was
not
my fault!  If I weren’t so angry, I’d be jumping for joy.  Stupid fucking Jiles.  It was Little Baby Jesus’ slipup all along, not mine.  He’s still here and I’m being thrown out into the streets.

I’m about to forward the e-mail to LBJ—with some edits, of course—when my Outlook craps out.  Actually, my whole computer goes blank.  I’ve been killed off the network.  Oh sure,
now
those computer network guys work fast.

Nancy comes around with several people in tow, telling me it’s time to leave.  I join the end of the pathetic line and walk to the reception area.  She holds the door open for us and asks for each employee’s identification card.  Then, I follow the procession down the stairs with the rest of the corporate rejects.  Ted whistles “Pomp and Circumstance” while we descend the four flights.  I’m back where I was two years ago when I graduated from American University—probably still single, jobless, and no idea what to do with my future.

“You need a ride home, Vanessa?” Ted asks when we round the last corner.

Stunned, I say, “Yeah, I hadn’t thought about it.  Thanks.”

“Tell you what,” he says, twirling his car keys around his finger.  “Why don’t we go get drunk instead?”  He’s certainly taking this well.  Guys are a lot tougher, for sure.  “Wait out front and I’ll bring my car around.”

We filter out of the building and say our goodbyes.  People swap e-mails and cell phone numbers like kids who’ve spent summer camp together.  I wave as folks make their way to the parking lot and toward the T.

Then, I’m all alone.

Shell shock turns to anger, which subsides to tears.  And I dare anyone to judge me as being a weak female for crying.  I just lost my fucking job.  I put my box on the ground and sit on the lid, careful not to cave it in with my body weight.

This is not fair.

However, Jack isn’t out here with his packed box to tell me life isn’t fair and to buck up.  I wonder if he still works here.  And Griz.  And Rick.  There’s no telling what went on in those other conference rooms.

Most of all, I think of Kyle and the many questions zig-zagging through my mind:  What happened with him?  Why haven’t I seen him?  Why hasn’t he sought me out throughout this?  Did he know beforehand what would happen?  Wouldn’t he have told me I was losing my job?  Or had he used me to plan those meetings?

I swat at the air as if batting away the mental queries.  No.  I won’t believe something like that could’ve happened to me twice.  I don’t want to believe that.  I won’t believe it.  I try to rein in my tumultuous emotions with deep, cleansing breaths.

My chest aches as I think of Kyle.  He wasn’t involved.  I know that.  I trust him.  What stinks is I have no idea how to contact him outside of the office, other than his work cell phone.  I can’t exactly call work on Monday and ask for his home phone number.  I don’t know where he lives, either.  My heart lurches at the thought of never seeing him again.  In addition to losing my job, I’m losing my sense of cool and now I stand to lose Kyle.  I drop my head to my knees in defeat.

A car horn knocks me out of my funk.  I suppose it’s Ted.  I don’t want him to see me like this, so I hide behind my hair and wipe my face.  I hope my mascara isn’t cascading down my cheeks.

“Vanessa!  There you are.  I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he calls out.

When I lift up, there are those hazel eyes that I truly do love.

“Oh, Kyle...” I say, more relieved than anything in the world.

He picks up my stuff and crams it into the back seat of his black Infinity.  Then, he pulls me by the hand and draws me to him for a comforting hug.  I squeeze my eyes shut and wrap my arms around his neck.

He rocks me gently and whispers, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Ted pulls his car up behind Kyle’s and beeps.  “You, too, Nettles?” he asks.

“Sort of...”

I look up at Kyle curiously.  What does he mean?

Ted smiles.  “I don’t guess you’re coming with me ‘Nessa.”

I rotate in Kyle’s arms.  “No, I’m all set here, but thanks, Ted.  Keep in touch.”

“Sure thing.  Take care of her Nettles.  She’s a jewel.”  He waves, gets back in his car, and peels off.

“I’ll agree with that,” he says, holding me tightly.

It feels amazing to be in Kyle’s arms again.  He’s the only thing I’m sure about right now.  How could I have doubted him?  “Oh Kyle...”

He adjusts his head for another kiss, deeper this time, more emotional.  I can tell he’s hurting, too.  “You okay?” he asks when he pulls back.  He strokes my hair for reassurance.

“Just in shock.  I know I should be stronger, but I’ve never had anything like this happen before.”

“You are strong, Vanessa.  I heard you told Jiles where he could go.  I bet you were the only one smart enough to do that.”

“Or stupid enough,” I say with a snicker.  “But I figured, what did it matter at that point?”

“Well, it’s natural to feel hurt and confused.”

“Used, more like it.”

He rocks me in his arms.  It’s okay to lean on this knight in shining armor—well, in a shiny car, at least.  I’m drawing strength from him and it feels pretty damn good.

When we break apart, I ask, “What did you mean when you told Ted ‘sort of?’  Did you get fired, too?”

He rests against the trunk of the car and wraps his hands around my waist, tucking his fingers into the back pockets of my jeans.  Lifting his eyes to mine, he says, “Jiles called me in with the Willies and told me the Board gave him the ultimatum.  Seems the books were a lot worse than anyone imagined.  All due to his mismanagement.  We’re—they’re—$3.2 million in the hole.  Profitability isn’t going to happen, so the Board said to cut a third of the personnel.  Every position eliminated was Jiles’ decision.  When I found out you were on the list, dammit, Vanessa, I fought for you and you know what Jiles asked?”

My heart trills nervously again.  “Do I want to hear this?”

“He says to me, ‘why are you fighting so hard for her, Nettles?  You fucking her?’”

Horror fills my lungs.  “Oh my God!”

“I swear, I almost leveled him, but I kept a cool head.  I told him that was inappropriate and unprofessional.  I said you were instrumental in saving the company’s reputation with these meetings.  I reminded him how you’d stepped into your boss’ shoes.  He said it wasn’t about thanks or the work you’d done—that yes, you had excelled more than he expected—this was about the bottom line and marketing was too much of an expense.”

I blink hard.  “Jack got to stay, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did.  They think he can help with the PR fallout.  There’s going to be another round of layoffs in a few months if Jiles remains at the helm.  Jack’s not safe.  No one is.”

“So, do you still work there?”

Kyle fiddles with my belt loop and cocks his head sideways.  “Actually, no.  I quit.”

“You quit?  Over me?”  My heart is going to burst wide open with what I feel for him.

“That was a big part of it.  I’ll admit I didn’t like Jiles’ management style or how he views customers.  They’re a means to an end for him and he doesn’t understand that a little effort goes a long way to making a long-term relationship succeed.  People want to be treated with respect and know they mean more than what you can get out of them.  I couldn’t stay knowing he didn’t care about customers.”

I can’t help but equate what Kyle says to that of a mature adult relationship.  He respects me and doesn’t want anything from me—unlike someone else who shall remain nameless, but whose initials are Rodney Elmore.

With Kyle, I’m not a means to an end.

I hold his arms for support.  “So what happened?”

He continues.  “Well, I got pulled into the third conference room—”

“The third one?  What were the other two?”

“You were in the ‘getting canned’ room, Jack, Isabella, and Rick were in the ‘keeping your job’ room and I got sifted into the ‘stay for four more weeks to help clean up the mess’ room.”

“They actually had a group like that?  How humiliating.”

“I thought so, too.  So, I told Jiles to forget it.”

“You walked out?”  He did that for me.

“Yep.  I can’t work here anymore.  We spend more time at work than we do with those we care about, so what’s the point if it’s all for nothing?”  He tugs me back to his chest.  “Besides, without you there, I don’t have a reason to go into the office.”

I let my head fall forward and my hand snakes up to the back of his neck.  “I was worried I’d never see you again once they escorted me out of there.”

“Not a chance.”

“You don’t even have my phone number.”

“I would’ve found you, Vanessa.”

Ah, man, there’s a heart clench moment.

“I don’t know what I’ll do now.  I’m going to miss seeing you every day and working with you.”

His lips turn up in an impish grin.  “Well, you may not have to miss me.  We’re going to be okay.  Trust me.”

We?  He said “we,” right?  This is a good sign.

I gaze into his eyes.  “How so?”

“After I got wind of what was going down, I called my buddy, Todd Mattingly, who owns BioDynamics here in Cambridge.”

I’ve heard of them and seen their massive, all-glass new construction.  “They’re right around the corner—huge with all of the biomedical technology.”

“Right.  Todd and I went to business school together and he owes me a favor.”

“Oh, he does?” I tease.

“I introduced him to his wife, okay?” Kyle says with his dimple showing.

“Aren’t you sweet?”

He smiles and looks embarrassed.  “He’s got a job for me,” he continues.  “Head of their client services.  Todd’s been bugging me to come work for him, so I took him up on the offer.  I’m taking a few weeks off and then I’ll start April first.”

“Kyle, that’s great.”

“There’s more,” he says.

I don’t know if I can take anymore.  I tighten my hold on him and ask, “What’s that?”

“He may have something for you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he mimics with a laugh.  “They’re ramping up their marketing and just brought in a woman to head up the department.  They need someone to coordinate events, so I told him about you.  He said for you to send your resume over to him.”

“Just like that,” I say in surprise.

“Well, you still have to go in there for an interview and wow them with your knowledge and experience, but you can do it.”

“Damn right, I can,” I exclaim.  And then I look into those amazing eyes again.  “Kyle, what a great lead.  I can’t believe you did that.  I don’t know what to say.  Thank you!”

“No thanks, necessary.  Your experience and expertise speaks for itself.  Oh, and there isn’t any stupid office dating policy.  I didn’t even have to use my ‘we’re a package deal’ line on Todd,” he jokes, which makes me laugh.

I raise my eyebrow at him and smile.  “Are you trying to get me to fall in love with you, Kyle Nettles?”

He touches his forehead to mine.  “What if I am?”

“Then I’d say you’re on the right track.”

We seal the deal with a soulful kiss, right there at the front door of DigitalLostItsDirection.  Kyle sets me back and says, “What do you say we get out of here?”

“Amen to that.”

He opens the passenger side door and closes it behind me.  Such a gentleman.  He comes around, slides into the driver’s side and pulls the car out onto the busy street.

I fumble with my keys and gasp when something catches my eye.  “Oh no, I forgot to give this to Nancy.” I wrench it off my key chain.

“What is it?” he asks.