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Authors: Heather Wardell

Tags: #decisions, #romance canada, #small changes

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BOOK: A Life That Fits
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I stared down at Anna's desk, longing to
slink off and hide to lick my wounds. But I couldn't. Not without
making a final statement. I raised my head. "I'm sorry you've made
this choice. I know I can handle the conference. But you're in
charge so I accept your decision."

The relief in Anna's eyes seemed over the
top. Had she been afraid I'd make some sort of crazy scene? Didn't
she know me better than that? "Thank you. You can go back to work
now."

I nodded and left, since I couldn't think of
anything else to say. I headed to my tiny conference room office to
hide, but that plan was shattered when I turned the corner and saw
Tina standing by my door.

"They told you," she said. "I can tell by
your face."

Frustration and anger swept me. "They told
you first?"

She shrugged. "I guess they wanted to make
sure I was willing to go. Which of course I am. And hey, maybe
we'll both get to go in January or May. It'd be fun. From what I
hear the parties at night are amazing."

I'd never spent more than a few minutes at
those parties, because I'd always left with a few potential clients
or contacts and spent the evening instead conducting business in a
more relaxed atmosphere. "Wouldn't know. I go there to work."

She rolled her eyes. "And I will too, of
course, but there's time for fun too. You really need to relax
more."

"I relax lots. Just not at work."

"Hey, if you can do both, why not? Oh, and
can you give me your contact sheets? Gary says you've got lots of
great forms I can use to keep track of the people I meet. And maybe
your notes from past years?"

Bad enough that I wouldn't go to the
conference, but now I had to hand over my hard work to my
replacement? My immediate reaction was to refuse, but that wouldn't
do me any favors with my already doubtful bosses, so I sighed and
said, "Come on in," and spent the next two hours getting Tina up to
speed on the conference that should have been mine.

 

Chapter Eighteen

My friendship with Tina cooled a bit in the
week or two after she was given my conference. I knew it wasn't her
fault but it still rankled, and since she didn't seem anxious to
spend time with me either I assumed she felt awkward too.

Instead, I spent more time with Wendy. She
worked in one of the other towers connected to the same lobby as
mine, for another data analysis company. We had coffee together a
few times a week now, and while we enjoyed discussing our jobs and
the oddities of our bosses we hadn't touched on anything more
personal than her jewelry and my cat. I'd mentioned the reversing
project, and she'd thought it was neat but didn't suggest we should
do it together. I didn't mind the slight distance between us,
though, because I sensed that Wendy was slow to open up but would
be a great friend once she did. I could wait for a friend like
that.

But I did stretch our boundaries a little by
bringing up my newest pastime.

"I could never do that," Wendy said. "Good
for you."

I laughed. "I'm so
bad
at it. But
Nadia says I'll get better. I could hardly get worse."

I'd been surprised by last week's phone call
from the bellydance teacher, and even more surprised when she said,
"One class isn't enough to really try it, you know. Sign up for the
full eight-week session. If you hate it after that I'll refund all
your money, but at least you'll have given it a fair shot."

Stung by the suggestion I'd wimped out, I'd
agreed, and Friday's class had been more enjoyable than I'd
expected. I still moved like a zombie with no rhythm but Nadia and
the other students were hugely supportive, and by the end of class
I'd been delighted to actually produce something resembling a hip
shimmy and they'd been delighted for me.

"If you ever do a recital I'll come watch,"
Wendy promised.

I smiled. We'd gone to the musical theater
meeting together but otherwise hadn't socialized outside of work,
and I loved that she might want to at some point. I didn't think
I'd ever want to dance for an audience but if I did I'd be happy to
have her there. "You got it."

"Anything new on the conference front?"

I shook my head, then nearly talked her ear
off with my annoyance about Anna and Gary. In the last week they'd
been eying me like you'd watch a nearby raccoon you were afraid
might be rabid. I'd been trying to act as normal as I could, but
the more I tried the harder it was to remember how I acted
normally, and I knew I was saying the wrong thing at times.

"It feels so weird," I finished, "when it
seems like they're hanging on my every word. No, that's not
right... they're
observing
my every word. And I don't think
they like what I'm saying."

Wendy sipped her coffee then set it down and
studied me. "How committed are you to staying at DataSource?"

I grimaced. "Two months ago I'd have said
completely, but now I'm not so sure. Why?"

Another sip of coffee, and I realized she was
deliberating over something. Then she said, "We have an opening for
an analyst in my department. We had one quit three months ago and
poor Loren is killing himself trying to keep up with all the work.
I could put in a good word for you, if you'd like."

Would I like? I rested my elbows on the table
and propped my chin on my hands. "Your boss doesn't sound as
paranoid as Anna and Gary, so that'd be a nice change."

She grinned. "But you know she's weird and
prone to inappropriate comments."

I did; I'd laughed until I'd cried over last
week's tale of the boss pointing to another woman, fortunately not
Wendy, during a meeting and saying, "You bought a push-up bra. Good
for you."

I gestured to my chest. "She'd never think I
got a push-up bra, though. She might suggest I get implants, but
that'd be about it."

Wendy laughed. "She might, actually. She
loves hers."

"You know your boss has implants?"

She gave a fake shudder. "Damn near had to
see the scars from the surgery. She's awfully proud of them. But
she's a good egg underneath the crazy. So, what do you think?"

Anna and Gary clearly didn't trust me any
more. I didn't want to work where I wasn't trusted. "I'll bring you
a resume tomorrow."

She smiled. "I'm sure Dana will want to
interview you."

We moved on, but then I took us back. "You
know, it's really nice of you to put my name forward. You don't
know how I am at work. What if I end up being insane?"

"That role's already filled by Dana," she
said, smiling. "But I do know some things. You're never late to
meet me, and you're always well-dressed and you seem organized, and
you're a good speaker and clearly analytical. I don't think I'm
risking much by telling Dana you're worth meeting."

I couldn't help blushing. "Well, thanks. But
I don't have as nice jewelry as you do."

She laughed. "I'll do my best to keep it that
way. Did you notice my earrings?"

I had, and we chatted about where she'd found
them and the exotic wood from which they were made until Tina came
rushing up to the table. "Andrea! You won't believe this."

Her rudeness and lack of apology for
interrupting annoyed me. "Hold on, Tina. Wendy and I were--"

"It's okay." Wendy put her coffee mug and the
plate from her cookie onto her tray. She and Tina had met a few
times but Tina's flamboyant sexiness and Wendy's sleek elegance
meant they didn't exactly get along. "I need to get going anyhow.
Same time tomorrow, Andrea?"

Her eyes sparkled with a conspiratorial look,
and I knew she was enjoying the fact that Tina didn't know I was
considering leaving the group. "You got it. And I'll bring that
article you wanted."

"Fantastic. I'm sure Dana will love it."

She left and Tina took her chair.

"What's the big panic? Did the analysis
program crash again?"

She shook her head. "Nothing like that. It's
Brent."

Brent, the blond beauty from the play.
"Yeah?"

"He dumped me."

"I'm sorry." Sorry for the tragic loss of
your barely-a-month-long relationship. How will you ever survive
the two weeks until you're over him?

"It's so stupid, too. I just made one little
comment about how his buddy was lame for spending all his time with
his dad and the next thing I knew..."

I tuned her out. She didn't even notice. When
we'd first met she'd seemed attentive and interested in talking
with
me, but now all of her conversations were
at
me.

Moving to Wendy's team might be a great
change for me.

*****

"She said she'd be five minutes," Wendy said
for the third time since I'd arrived twenty minutes ago.

"Don't worry about it," I said yet again, and
held up my phone. "I'm catching up on emails. I know she's busy.
She'll get to me eventually."

"Still, she should be on time for an
interview. You won't get in trouble at work?"

I shook my head. "They're both in meetings.
And I won't take my full lunch break so I don't feel guilty about
sneaking out."

"Good stuff."

She went back to her work, and I continued
with my emails. Mostly spam to delete, but I had one to write. At
least, I would once I decided whether I accepted Ellen the yarn
store owner's suggestion.

When I'd arrived at last night's knit night
to find the usual sign replaced with 'knit and crochet night', I'd
been surprised and happy, but I'd been shocked when she asked me
afterward if I'd consider leading a weekly crochet-only night for
her. I'd protested that I hadn't been doing it long enough to help
anyone else, but she wanted a social group and a way to keep
crocheters interested in her store, and I'd promised to consider
it.

I considered it now, and decided I wanted to
do it. The knitters were lovely people but I was getting pressure
from a few to learn to knit. I didn't want to since I liked
crocheting so much, and a purely crochet night should mean far less
of that pressure.

As I pressed 'send' on my email telling Ellen
Wednesday nights worked for me, Wendy's phone rang. She glanced at
the call display and twisted her face like she'd eaten something
revolting. "Sorry, I'd better..."

I nodded encouragingly, and she picked up the
phone. "Hey, Henry. Yes, I got your email. I'm at
work
,
Henry, I-- No, I can't--I doubt he wants to--Henry, seriously, I--"
She sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll ask him. But I doubt he--hello?"

She set down the phone and muttered something
distinctly unladylike under her breath. "Sorry, Andrea. My sister's
husband. I can only assume she was under some sort of evil spell
when she married him."

"He doesn't let you get a word out, does
he?"

"And he's even worse to her." She sighed. "He
wants me to bring my boyfriend to their house for dinner tomorrow
night. But I don't think--"

"Andrea?"

I looked up to see a skinny woman, wearing a
tight-fitting red pantsuit and a matching scrunchie in her
bleached-blonde hair, with an unnaturally orange tan and such
obvious breast implants I imagined the serial numbers might be
visible when she was naked. "Hi."

I stood, and so did Wendy. "Dana, this is
Andrea. Andrea, my boss Dana."

We shook hands and Dana said, "Sorry about
the delay. Let's chat."

She let me go ahead of her, and once I'd
passed she said, "Nice calves. Do you work out?"

I looked back, surprised, to see her smiling.
I glanced past her to see Wendy trying not to explode with
laughter, then returned my attention to Dana. "Thanks, but I don't,
actually." I decided not to mention my ongoing bellydance classes.
Maybe not good-first-impression material. "But I used to wear high
heels a lot, so maybe that's why?"

"That'll do it," she said, ushering me into
her office. She closed the door behind us, and when we were both
settled she said, "So. Tell me why you want to work here."

Because I think Wendy might have understated
how crazy you are and I want to experience it for myself? "Wendy
says you need an analyst and I think I could be a great help to
your team."

"Sure. That's why we want you. Why do
you
want
us
?"

All the usual platitudes from past job
interviews ran through my mind, but I decided to tell her the
truth. "I need a change. I've been shaking up my life in a lot of
ways recently, but so far I haven't done anything with my career.
I've been at DataSource for four years now, and I think I've
learned everything I can there. I'd like to have a fresh
start."

She studied me, and I realized that despite
the odd appearance and the random comments Dana was a smart woman.
Her clear and focused brown eyes told the tale. "Got it. So, tell
me what you learned there."

We talked about my knowledge and training,
and my networking and presentation skills, and what I'd be doing in
her department, for quite a while. She grilled me on every detail,
making me dig deeper than I'd ever done in an interview, and when
she said, "Well, I think I've got everything I need to know," I was
shocked to realize I'd been there an hour.

"Thanks so much for meeting with me." I stood
and held out my hand.

She gave me a firm handshake. "You're
welcome. Thank
you
. Now, I have to get to the staff meeting,
since all my little darlings are in the conference room awaiting my
arrival, but I will get in touch with you later today or tomorrow.
Yes?"

Little darlings? Weird. But cute. "Yes.
Thanks again."

I left, without trying to see Wendy since
she'd be in the meeting, and went back to my desk feeling proud of
myself. I'd stepped out of my comfort zone in talking to Dana, and
if I'd read her at all well it was going to pay off.

 

Chapter Nineteen
BOOK: A Life That Fits
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