This Holiday Magic (20 page)

She then hugged her again and shooed her off to her class. But before going, Keisha asked another question, one that floored Renee.

“Hey, Mom. Can I get my hair relaxed?”

That
was when Renee realized what lay at the core of this latest crisis.

It wasn't dance that was bugging the girl.

Renee now understood more so why Keisha felt out of place in this town and in this school. Renee had seen all of the kids in Keisha's new third-grade class. While the overall class was evenly split between boys and girls, and they were all a mix of races, Keisha was the only one who was dark and whose hair was in cornrows, white and blue beads clacking at the ends. All of the girls in her class at the old school in Durham had some variation of cornrows or braids, natural hairstyles that complemented the varying shades of cream, brown and ebony that were reflected among the pupils. In addition to looking good, the braided styles were easy to maintain. But here in Cedar Springs, they made Keisha look different. And thus, feel different.

“I think I've found a hairstylist here for both of us to try,” Renee said. “It's the one that Kelly goes to.”

Keisha's eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes.”

The girl grinned and threw her arms around Renee's neck for another hug before dashing into her classroom.

It seemed she had finally uncovered the basis of Keisha's acting out this week. She could only hope that something as easily altered as hair was the extent of the problem.

Nevertheless, Renee was left standing in the corridor, wondering when life had become so complicated for kids.

Chapter 4

W
orking at home had its advantages. But today was not one of them.

The deal Trey had worked out with his management consulting firm when Kelly was an infant had made sense at the time. He was a single parent with a newborn and his responsibilities then were such that a flexible schedule met both his needs and those of Keaton & Myers Incorporated. Now that Kelly was in first grade and in school most of the day, he more often than not found himself driving out to the headquarters of Keaton & Myers at Six Commerce Plaza for meetings rather than video-conferencing in.

The thought had crossed his mind that if he had time to make a lunch date with Renee Armstrong, he had the time to get his rear into gear and into the office.

Trey knew that Bradley Christian, his chief, and really only, nemesis at work, was busy posturing for the operating committee that was holding an impromptu meeting at the office.

“I'll be there in less than five minutes,” he told Bradley, guiding the Navigator through the midday traffic of Cedar Springs. The drive, which should have taken all of ten minutes from his front door to the KMI parking lot, was already stretching into twenty.

Trey resisted the urge to lean on his horn and plow through the traffic. Who were these people and what were they doing out and about like this in the middle of the day?

He, of course, had no way of knowing just what traffic was like during the day in Cedar Springs. He was almost always working from home. And even if he'd worked from the main office, he wouldn't be driving around during the day. In the years he had spent raising Kelly, Trey had turned into something of a social recluse. He knew all about dance lessons, enough about crafts, and was well versed enough in the trappings of beauty salons that he made sure to hustle Kelly into the shop before the after-work rush.

That made him think of Renee Armstrong. He'd given her the name, number and address of his aunt's salon.

A grin split his face as he contemplated what Renee's reaction might be if he walked into the salon while she was in the middle of a beauty treatment. Her hair in those giant pink or yellow rollers or plastered with foil and that stinky goop that they slathered all over it. He liked her long curly hair; it was full-bodied just like the woman herself. He liked that she didn't flat-iron it into one of those slick styles that reminded him of anemic models.

She would probably be mortified if he saw her that way, but Trey had grown up one of the few males in a family full of women. He knew the pains females put themselves through to look good for themselves…and for their men. And until this year, when she'd turned six, he'd dutifully sat in those uncomfortable chairs waiting for Kelly because she used to cry if he left. His baby was growing up, though. The last time at Aunt Tiny's shop Styles, Kelly had suggested that he go to the barbershop while she got her hair done.

He'd laughed at the notion, until he realized it made a lot of sense. He usually spent the time browsing the internet or playing games on his tablet, and sometimes eavesdropping on the female conversation all around him. While waiting for his daughter, he'd heard enough juicy gossip to write one of those bestselling romances that his cousins loved so much.

He'd gone to an author book signing once that Sasha had been covering for the television station. The writer had said ideas were all around and that one of the best writing exercises was to play what-if.

Like, he thought, with more than a bit of ironic humor, what if a call girl really did set up shop on a quiet suburban street? Who would be her love interest? A preacher spotted tipping out of her door one Sunday morning or the cop who came to check out an unrelated complaint.

When Trey again gave his full attention to driving instead of his aspirations as a novelist, his daughter and the woman he wanted to get to know even better, he found himself pulling into the employee lot at Keaton & Myers Incorporated.

He checked the Windsor knot in his tie, brushed a hand over his hair, then reached for his portfolio. Running through the mental checklist of things he needed to do, including points he needed to make in his presentation, he made his way to the conference room.

The only thing Trey hated more than posers like Bradley Christian was a brownnoser who wanted nothing more than to take credit for work he hadn't done.

The good thing about working from home was that he didn't have to deal with the B.S. that went on at Keaton & Myers. What he'd learned in the years he'd essentially been an independent contractor with all the benefits of a full-time employee in the office was that he liked it…a lot. The flexible schedule allowed him to take a few side jobs. While they had necessitated the out-of-town trips that required him to get a sitter for Kelly, he loved the work of designing marketing and imaging campaigns for up-and-coming creativity outlets. The work posed no conflict with KMI and he'd even generated a couple of new clients for the company.

When Trey strode into the conference room, it was to find Bradley Christian all but snuggled up with the vice president of the company. But when Randall Keaton saw Trey, he patted Bradley on the arm and walked away, straight toward Trey.

It took effort for Trey not to grin when he saw Bradley's perplexed look.

The two men shook hands.

“It's good to see you, Calloway. That was a really fine job you did for the Hathaways.”

“Thank you, Mr. Keaton,” Trey said. He'd worked his butt off on that consultation and was glad to see it recognized. “It was a team effort.”

Keaton rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. I know all about the team down here. Listen, first, call me Randy, and second, are you free for lunch today? After this meeting, there are a couple of things I'd like to discuss with you.”

So much for lunch with Renee. Maybe this was the Lord's way of saying he needed to stay away from that woman. He'd have to text her to cancel.

“Sure thing,” he told the company vice president.

As everyone was taking their seats, Trey tapped out a quick message and apology to Renee, then turned his phone on vibrate. His mind now occupied with what Kea­ton wanted to meet about, he didn't wait for a response from her and tucked the phone inside the portfolio.

When the full Gang of Six—as they were called—from corporate were seated as well as the six other senior account execs like Trey, Randall Keaton got down to business.

“There's a mid-Atlantic acquisition that we're making. It represents a new market for Keaton & Myers, one that has untapped potential. And this office, which is central to all of the areas that will be impacted, is key to the success of the project.”

Trey noticed that heads were bobbing along the table and he figured the eager account executives were already tallying up the six-figure bonuses they could potentially earn. All of Trey's extra money was deposited into high-interest-bearing investments. He had Kelly's future in mind with everything he did.

“We'll be naming the executive team in a few days,” Keaton said.

“Excuse me, sir,” Bradley asked, his hand shooting into the air as if the meeting were being held in a fifth-grade classroom and Keaton was the teacher. “Is there an application or nomination process for that team?”

“No, Christian. There is not.”

As if,
Trey thought. The only team Bradley Christian was capable of leading would be the suck-up one. Trey wasn't even sure if Bradley detected the note of irritation in Keaton's voice or the way his demeanor ever so subtly changed when addressing him. The older man leaned back as if distancing himself from his too-eager employee.

It took Keaton fifteen minutes to run them all through the acquisition plan and to outline what would be required of each of them. An assistant then circled the table, handing each of the account executives a binder with KMI's logo stenciled on the cover.

“It goes without saying,” Keaton said, “that the information you're now receiving is confidential. If you'll open the binder to the first page—” he waited while everyone did so, then continued “—you'll find a confidentiality agreement.”

Bradley was the first to whip out a Montblanc fountain pen and proceeded to scrawl his name across the bottom of the document. He did so with a flourish and then sat back with a satisfied grin, as if being first to commit himself would win him a prize at the fair. The idiot hadn't even read the thing.

“I'd like you to take a moment to read it,” Keaton said with deliberation as he all but scowled at Bradley, “and then I'll address your questions.”

Looking chastened, Bradley lifted the binder to read what he'd just signed. Shaking his head, Trey read the document. What he found there was troubling. It stipulated pledging confidentiality about the project, which was pro forma in all of their client dealings. But there was also a pledge to not discuss the project with media, friends, family, including immediate relatives or any KMI employee other than those in the meeting.

“Why is this project subject to such unusual scrutiny?” Trey asked. “We maintain confidentiality with every Keaton & Myers client.”

Keaton nodded. “Yes, we do. But there's an element of this project that I haven't yet shared with you. If anyone would like to recuse themselves, now is that time. And trust me, no one will think ill of you if you choose to.”

For a moment, no one moved.

Then, one by one, as if signing their own death warrants, the other account executives signed the document until only Trey remained.

He'd lived and worked his entire life relying on both his gut and his common sense. And the only thing his gut was doing now was screaming that this was a bad idea. A very bad one.

It might cost him his job, but he wasn't about to commit to something that, for all he knew, could be illegal, immoral or unethical.

Trey closed the binder and put his pen to the side of it. He shook his head. “I'd rather not sign unless I know what I'm committing myself to,” he said.

The executives from KMI headquarters exchanged glances, and Trey could have sworn he saw a small smile lift the corners of Keaton's mouth before it quickly disappeared.

“Very well,” Keaton said. He then directed them through the rest of the proposal as if the whole document-signing interlude hadn't happened. More than one confused glance scurried around among the account reps. And Trey wondered why he hadn't been directed to leave since he'd all but refused to sign the document.

Much later, while sitting at lunch with Randall Keaton in the small but luxurious dining room of the Magnolia Inn, Trey learned what was going on.

“It was a test,” the older man said after finishing the last of his prime rib.

“A test?”

Keaton nodded. “Probably juvenile of me,” he said, “but I wanted to test the mettle of the top earners and performers at KMI.”

It hadn't escaped Trey's notice that at least three of the six folks invited to the meeting were his equal when it came to hustle and creativity.

“There's a lot of money to be made with this deal,” Keaton said. “But you were the only one who didn't seem fazed by it.”

“There's more to life than making money.”

Keaton dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin. “So I'm told,” the older man said on a dry note. “My father and his best friend founded this company with a vision of putting tools in those hands that would make their businesses successful. Sometimes that means doing the hard thing, like laying off employees… .”

Although nothing showed on his face, Trey wondered if this was the way KMI fired people, with expensive lunches to soften the blow.

“And sometimes it means recognizing when there is an asset worth investing in.”

Keaton leaned back as their server cleared their plates and offered them both coffee.

When they were left alone again, Keaton continued. “A couple of people hesitated today with that ridiculous demand to sign that agreement, but you not only questioned it—you stood alone in refusing to do so. Well done, Trey.”

Since “thank you” didn't quite seem appropriate under the circumstances, Trey remained silent.

“What I'd like to offer you,” Keaton said, “is a leadership role in the company. Not just this project, which would also be yours, but a position on the executive team. You heard the goals for this latest effort, and I've thoroughly reviewed your work over the last few years. I think you're the man who can take Keaton & Myers to new heights.”

A promotion had been the furthest thing from his mind when he'd been summoned to the office today. “Thank you for your vote of confidence in me. Earlier today I was thinking that with my daughter in school now, it would be the right time to return to a regular schedule.”

Keaton nodded. “I'm glad you mentioned that. It's what I wanted to address next. This would require time visiting the other regional offices on a fairly regular basis, at least once or twice a month. I trust that wouldn't be a problem for you?”

“Not at all.”

“Excellent.”

Keaton reached into his inner suit-jacket pocket and pulled out a pen and small leather-bound notebook. Trey noted that it was the same type and brand that Bradley Christian used.

“In addition to a car and monthly expense account,” Keaton said, “this is what I'm prepared to offer you.” He jotted a figure on the pad and pushed it Trey's way.

After a glance at the amount, Trey's heart started pounding. The number on the paper would push Trey into an entirely different tax bracket. The job would also require a lot of time away from home, at a time when Kelly was growing so fast.

“I'm not going to ask you to give me an answer today,” Keaton said. “We have an executive retreat coming up. It's after the holidays, in mid-January. I'd like you to attend it. It's a three-day affair down in Florida on Amelia Island. That's where we hold the annual winter retreat. In the spring, we go to my place off Hilton Head in South Carolina. We do some brainstorming, play some golf and get to know each other. The wives have their own agenda in Florida. It usually involves shopping, tennis and shopping.”