Driven to Date (2 page)

“Tomorrow works,” I said, then jotted down the address she gave me. “And Kristen? Thank you.”

I hung up the phone, stared at the files on my desk, and hoped Kristen would have good advice. Otherwise, how would I ever stomach working for the man who’d snatched my promotion out from under me?

****

At two in the afternoon on Saturday, I collapsed into the chair at Innovation, Kristen’s hair salon. “How is cutting my hair going to get me my promotion?”

“It won’t.” Kristen glanced at me from the chair to my right as her hair stylist snapped a trendy silver smock around her neck. “I just figured you could use a change.”

I raised one shoulder. “Okay, but I usually pull my hair back into a ponytail.”

“I’ve noticed.” Kristen eyed my brown hair critically. “You should wear it down more. Have some fun with it. I’m thinking highlights, too. Do you have time for that, Carmen?”

“You saved my marriage, Kristen.” The short-haired brunette winked at her. “I’ll always make time for you.”

Kristen smiled as her own hair stylist transformed a lock of Kristen’s deep, red hair into a perfect ringlet. “I checked the guest list and you’re not bringing a date to my wedding tonight?”

“No.” I shook my head. “My boyfriend and I broke up last month. So, I’m going solo.”

Carmen held my head in place, picked up a black comb, then ran it through my long locks that currently hung six inches below my shoulders. Soon it would be gone, just like my promotion. . . .

Carmen held out a sample sheet of various highlight shades and pointed to the gold strands in the middle. “I recommend this color for your skin tone.”

Kristen nodded in agreement.

“Sure,” I said, even though this seemed like a waste of time. Highlighted hair would
not
get Jim’s thieving nephew to abandon my Managing Attorney position.

“Why did you and your boyfriend break-up?” Kristen asked.

I took a deep breath, remembering Aidan’s final straw. “Aidan wanted me to go to the movies with him, but I had a brief due.”

Kristen nodded slightly as if assessing, and her stylist dropped another ringlet softly against her cheek. “I take it this wasn’t the first time you’d put work ahead of him?”

“How did you know?” I said, then rolled my eyes. “Dumb question. You’re a trained counselor.”

She winked at me.

I watched Carmen stir the concoction she’d poured into a bowl, and the pungent fumes from the blue gunk burned my nostrils. Ick. “My career’s important to me. Aidan should’ve understood.”

“And love isn’t important to you, Jill?”

My nose immediately wrinkled. “Love is an abstract feeling used by romance writers to sell books.”

Kristen raised her brow.

“I’m sorry.” I let out a small laugh. “I shouldn’t say that to a woman getting married in four hours.”

“Say it if you mean it.” The corners of her mouth turned up. “Believe it or not, I felt the same way you do not so long ago. My work had been my priority, too. Then I met Ethan and everything changed—for the better. You and I aren’t so different.”

I was instantly reminded of my meeting with the partners yesterday. “Except that you didn’t have your promotion stolen from you.”

Carmen sectioned my hair, brushed the pungent goop on my strands, then wrapped tinfoil around them.

“True.” Kristen’s brows came together. “Not much you can do about nepotism.”

My shoulders slumped at Kristen’s unhelpful take on my trauma. “I was hoping you’d know which direction I should pursue now. I’d planned to enjoy my career at that firm, but obviously that’s shot. I need a new plan.”

I’d
always
been the woman with a plan and my life had always gone according to it. Mentally, I pictured the old crinkled list of goals I’d created after high school and carried in my purse:

#1–Graduate college at 21 (Done!)

#2–Graduate law school at 24 (Done!)

#3-Obtain job at well-established firm (Done!)

#4-Purchase house at 26 (Done!)

#5-Managing Position at 29

#6-Partner at 35 (33, if possible)

I always achieved my goals and wasn’t equipped to deal with failure. I had to make a new plan. That’s all there was to it. Life without an impeccably mapped out strategy was like pleading a case naked in front of a jury. Actually, I felt naked now. No, worse than naked. I felt vulnerable. Like my life had no purpose.

My throat tightened.

“How else do you spend your time?” Kristen’s eyes became covered by a mess of pinned ringlets as she spoke. “Besides work, I mean.”

I blinked rapidly through my blurred vision, and cleared my throat trying to pull myself together. Emotional displays were so not my thing. This lost promotion was taking its toll, and I had to get my disappointment behind me. “What do I do? Laundry, house projects, go to the gym . . . the usual.”

“Those are chores.” Kristen made a humming noise. “What else do you do? For instance, my usual is work, spending time with Ethan, touring and studying anything having to do with history, hiking, boating, and community service projects.”

My jaw dropped open. “All of that and you have your own business?”

She smiled. “I’ve cut back on work a bit since I met Ethan. I love my practice, but it’s not my entire life, you know?”

Catching her meaning in her tone, my forehead creased. “You’re saying work is my whole life.”

She lifted the ringlets above her brows, then held my gaze. “Isn’t it?”

As Carmen continued sectioning, brushing goop, and wrapping her organized pieces of tinfoil around my head, I racked my brain for all I’d done over the past two weeks. Work. Gym. Work. Laundry. Work. Grocery store. Work. Hmm. . . .

Remembering something, I twisted toward Kristen. “I went to a fundraising dinner for the Sacramento Children’s Home two weeks ago.”

Carmen cleared her throat, then guided my face forward again as she continued her highlighting mission.

“And who were you with at the dinner?” Kristen asked.

“Associates from work.” Argh. Nailed again! “But, I did make a donation.”

After watching the presentation on the abandoned kids, it had been impossible
not
to contribute. My heart had ached so much that I’d made a substantial donation. One so big I had to charge my groceries in order to pay my mortgage. Pictures of their sweet little faces ran through my mind again. . . .

“A donation is really nice.” Kristen sounded like she meant it. “Still, you have to admit the event was work-related.”

My brows came together. “What’s wrong with being driven in my career?”

“Nothing’s wrong with being career driven. But, you’re zooming down the highway without stopping for gas.”

I blinked. “You lost me.”

“One day, you’re going to run out of fuel, and find yourself on the side of that desert highway.” She gave me a meaningful look. “Alone.”

Right. Nobody I’d be responsible for besides myself. “Don’t worry, I’ll call a car service.”

Lifting her curls again, she threw me a pointed look. “Your life isn’t balanced. If it were, then you wouldn’t feel like your entire world was falling apart just because one area isn’t going so hot.”

“Going so hot? My life has come to a crashing halt.” Oh, wait. . . She might have a point. Um, yes. She
definitely
had a point. “Let’s say you’re right, that my life is unbalanced. What should I do about it?”

“To put it bluntly, you need to get a life.” She raised a finger. “Outside of work. Starting with my wedding tonight. Do not even think about leaving early to go home and work. Stay until midnight. Even better, go out after. What are you wearing? Scratch that. Buy something fun. Something new. To go with your new hair.”

With that, Carmen swiveled me away from the mirror, and gestured toward the chair with the dryer hanging over it.

“I suppose I can do that.” I watched Kristen’s hair dresser pull the ringlets away from her face, and secure the large group up high on her head with a rhinestone clip. Then came the hair spray. Lots of it.

“All right. I’ll definitely buy a new dress,” I agreed, then went to sit under the dryer. Even though my black dress was versatile and worked for almost any occasion.

As the heat blew in a loud, vibrating
hum
around my head, I thought about Kristen’s advice. Get a life? I’d had one and it had been swiped out from under me. For a trained therapist, I would’ve thought she’d focus on that more. Not what kind of dress I wore to her wedding.

The blow dryer turned off at the same time Kristen was on her way out in her princess hair-do. “Your hair looks amazing,” I said.

She gave me a hug, and when I squeezed her back a warm feeling came over me. “See you tonight?”

“Yes, and thanks for listening,” I said, then joined Carmen who’d been motioning to me from her work station.

After Carmen shampooed and conditioned my hair, she sat me down then placed her hands at my shoulders. “I’m thinking here would be a great length for you. It’ll take the weight off while still leaving your hair long enough to pull it back like you mentioned.”

“That’s fine.” I flinched at the
swish swish
of the blades chopping at my hair. I kept my head still and eyes closed, refusing to look at the long strands falling to the floor.

Snip! Snip
! Had Carmen gotten more aggressive with those scissors or was it my imagination? My nerves were frazzled the entire time and after she blew my hair dry, she ran a flat-iron through it.

Then she turned me back toward the mirror. “Do you like it?” she asked.

I opened my eyes, and stared at the short blunt cut that hung just above my shoulders. The gold highlights brightened my features and complimented my brown eyes. “Wow.”

Stylish. Chic. I loved it.

“I’m glad you like it.” Carmen stood behind me, put her hands on my shoulders, then leaned down toward my ear. “Be sure to listen to Kristen’s advice, honey. It might not make sense now, but trust me. My marriage was dead in the water and she brought it back to life. That woman knows what she’s doing.”

Carmen’s marriage had been dead in the water, just like my career. Logically, if Kristen helped her, then supposedly she could help me. Looked like I was off to buy a party dress.

****

I arrived at the Geoffries hotel, dressed for a Hollywood awards ceremony. The sales woman at the fancy boutique downtown had definitely taken it to heart when I’d said, “I need a dress that’s ‘fun’ for a wedding tonight. Please pick one out for me and ring it up.”

Judging by the hefty price tag and her elated expression, she worked on commission. Glad I could make her day, but I wished Kristen had let me wear my comfortable black dress. I felt way too extravagant in the sexy, glittery gold, off-the-shoulder gown the sales woman had chosen. And people kept staring—mostly men. Sigh.

As I entered the ballroom, an usher appeared holding out his black tuxedo-jacket covered elbow. “Friend of the bride or groom?”

“Both.” Placing my hand on his arm, my eyes flicked up to his, and an electric jolt ran through me. Sexy hazel eyes. Dirty-blond hair. And a sensual smile. Ethan’s groomsman was
hot
. He even had a tan going on even though we were at the beginning of October. Maybe he’d just returned from a vacation. Where he was surfing. Because his upper body told me he used those muscles a lot.

His eyes crinkled as if he could tell exactly what I was thinking. “Since I can’t seat you in the middle of the aisle, why don’t I take you to the best available row? Unless you’re waiting for your date?”

A zing heated my belly. This guy was smooth.

“He’s coming later.” I tilted my head, smiling back at him. The lie had rolled off my tongue easily, because this guy screamed
bad boy
and I had enough problems.

“Lucky guy.” He showed me to the last two empty chairs in the fourth row on the groom’s side. “Don’t worry about your date finding you. He can’t miss you in that dress.”

“It’s new.” Tingles spiraled through my chest from his compliment, and I reminded myself of one word:
danger
. Despite myself, my eyes drifted down to his ring finger. Bare. Definitely dangerous. “Well, thanks.”

“My pleasure.” He nodded, gave me a wry smile, then headed back up the aisle.

As if pulled by magnets, I glanced over my shoulder as he retreated, then quickly forced myself to turn back. Get a grip, girl. I was here for my friends’ wedding, not to pick up on the gorgeous groomsman. The last thing in the world I needed was to be distracted from finding my new career goal.

“Is this seat taken?”

My head snapped up and I immediately recognized the woman standing before me. Madison McKenzie of McKenzie, Atkins, Haugan, & Hall—a high-powered law firm downtown who also specialized in personal injury.

“No, it’s all yours.” I gestured toward the empty chair, feeling glad I’d indicated that I needed two seats, and silently thanking Ethan for inviting Madison McKenzie. If I could’ve chosen a mentor, it would’ve been her. The woman was career driven with a capital “D,” and was so persuasive she could convince a jury to strip naked if she wanted them to. After she sat, I held my hand out. “Jill Parnell, from Corbett, Gray, & Shaw.”

“I recognized you.” She gripped my hand in a firm shake. “I’ve watched you in court. It’s nice to see the shark out of water.”

“Says the great white herself.” The corners of my mouth twitched. “I watched you try Holliday versus Sanders recently. That was a nasty car accident in front of the capital building and you obtained an incredible jury verdict for the plaintiff. I’ve always admired your work.”

“Coming from someone so skilled herself, I take that as a huge compliment.” Her expression brightened. Then she leaned toward me as a piano started playing, and mingling guests rushed to their seats. “We should talk, Jill.”

“We should.” I smiled, hoping she meant that. Then I faced forward and saw Ethan step out in front of the elegant archway, which was decorated with white satin, endless pink roses, and exquisite greenery.

“By the way.” Madison leaned toward me. “I absolutely
love
your dress.”