She's Out of Control Read online

  I must say, this inspires a bit of fear. Every holiday from Valentine’s Day to Admission Day (California flags everywhere), Kay has decorated for the occasion. It should have dawned on me that my house at The holiday is going to be something of an event, you know? But the fact that the whole neighborhood gets into it makes me wonder how I got here. I think about the torn-up inside of our house, and life without a toilet, but it’s all good.

  “What are you doing home, anyway?” I ask her suspiciously. Lord help us if we’re both out of work and have to support this month’s festive electric bill.

  “I’m working from home today. I have a couple of phone meetings tonight from Taiwan, so I’m taking the morning off.” She approaches the ladder and starts to descend. “Why are you two home?”

  “I’m just really contemplating the whole job thing. Maybe I didn’t take long enough to decide if Gainnet was the proper place for me.”

  “Ashley,” she says like a disappointed mother. “Did you lose another job?”

  Pause here. “I’m not sure exactly.” I fiddle with my hair and check my split ends. Time for a haircut. “They’re going to let me know more after the investigation.” I shake my head. “No, no. I have a job, but I just want to make sure it isn’t simply for show, you know?”

  Kay rolls her eyes. “There’s a bouquet of flowers in the house for you.”

  “They’re not black, are they?”

  She looks at me twice. “What? No, I think they’re from Kevin. But Seth called here, so who knows?”

  Ooh! Flowers. Enough of this conversation. I rush into the house and see a huge array of orange and red sunflowers mixed together in a vase with a big red bow around it. There’s a card and I rip it open like it’s Christmas morning.

  Dear Ashley,

  Roses are red, Violets are blue.

  Some guy ruined tulips

  So these sunflowers are for you.

  Kevin

  Another poet! I’m thinking we could be the next great love story, like Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. Ack! Doorbell. I shove the card back in the envelope, and Rhett starts barking. I pull myself up off the floor where I’ve just been having romantic fantasies about the out-of-my-league doctor.

  I open the door expecting to see Kay strung in Christmas bulbs, but it’s my boss, Hans. Well, my former boss. I look around outside, and yank him into the house. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to explain things a bit.” He sniffs, and suddenly that habit has a whole new meaning for me.

  “You know,” I hold up a palm. “Don’t tell me anything. I don’t want to be an accessory to the crime.” I walk into the center of the living room and point to the sofa. “Go ahead and sit down. Do you want anything?”

  He shakes his head. I look at his handsome face, and I’m just struck that he would do anything like he’s been accused of. I knew what he represented, what his life’s works added up to, but I still didn’t believe him capable of criminal acts, and really, doesn’t the Bible say to look at a person’s fruit? Well, Hans was a rotten apple in everything that mattered: as a father, a husband, even a beau. I wanted so badly to believe something different. To be utterly charmed by his brighter side.

  “Why would you do all that?” I ask him.

  “Listen, Ashley, it’s standard practice to pad a contract so things don’t look so bad to the stockholders. I didn’t do anything dishonest.” He doesn’t sit. He’s still pacing the floor frantically, like a dog at the pound.

  “It’s standard procedure to pad a budget, Hans, not a contract. Do you think I’m a complete moron? Is that why you hired me? All your talk about my genius patents! I should have known better.”

  “On the contrary. I hired you because you were the intellectual I needed in that position. Remember, I’m the one who knows about patents being key to a company’s success. Ashley, you’ve got to trust me, I didn’t lie to you. Stand behind me, and we’ll both have our jobs back tomorrow.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong! I’ll have my job back if I just bide my time.” I say this with more confidence than I feel. “Anyway, you did lie. You lied to every shareholder in that company.”

  “Don’t let them lie to you, Ashley. You’re done at Gainnet without me. There’s no reason they wouldn’t replace you if there’s a question about your integrity.”

  What is it about me that attracts trouble like a toddler in a china shop? I’m just trying to live my life. I tried to do a good deed here, to tell Hans and Sophia about God, and look where it’s gotten me. The office admins think I’m a loose woman, the board of directors think I’m a thief, and my own steady roommate thinks I’m as unstable as the Russian ruble.

  Oh Lord, tell me where to go. Give me words, Lord, because I don’t know what to think. What to feel . . . I don’t even finish the silent prayer when this overwhelming distaste for Hans overcomes me. It’s like all his ugliness has been laid bare before me and he’s standing in front of me like some hideous creature. Lost behind the gorgeous European suits, and the elegant façade, is a heart that’s hard as a diamond. I blink a few times, but it doesn’t go away.

  “I’ll find another job, Hans.” I head to the door and open it.

  “Of course you will, but I can make it easier on you.”

  My reference list is a little sparse at the moment, what with Selectech accepting my resignation when I refused to harm Purvi, my boss, in their takeover bid. It would be so easy to weaken, since I’ve paid the price once for being honest, but something props me up and holds me steady. Rhett barks, reminding me that I’m not alone. God is here, too, and doing the right thing is always better than doing the easy thing. God says that He’ll always provide you a way out. I either believe His Word or I don’t.

  “You’d better leave,” I say quietly. Rhett barks again. I’m scared. Don’t let my strong response fool you. This is a desperate man, who most likely has a drug habit to support. He’s alone now because he actually took my advice and sent his girlfriend back home to Italy. My heart is pounding in my throat as I wait to see what he’ll do. I’m so grateful for Rhett and Kay being home at the moment, I want to lie prostrate at their feet.

  “I’ll tell them you charged that ring to the company.” Hans makes a final threat. He looks to my finger, and sees the ring is conspicuously missing. Yep, let that be a lesson to me: impulse buys are never a good idea.

  “I gave the ring back this morning. I knew what they’d think, and I should have known better. It’s my own fault. I’ve been naive, but no more of that.”

  He scoffs at me. “I have a lot of respect in Silicon Valley. These charges won’t stick. You’ve got what? A degree from a so-so school and a few years’ experience?”

  “I beg your pardon, but Santa Clara University is not a so-so school.” My employment experience? Another story altogether. “I can’t help you, Hans. You knew I was a Christian when I started this job, and while you may have expected that to make me completely naive, you never counted on the fact that God has the power to make things right for me.”

  “Oh please, don’t talk about your fantasy heavenly realms. My stomach is shaky as it is.” He jumps off the porch without a stair and jogs to his car.

  The righteous will live by faith, I say to myself as Hans slams the door to his Jaguar.

  Hans won’t go to jail. No matter how many millions he’s managed to scrape off the top of some poor schmuck’s 401k plan, he won’t go to jail, because to convict him will only make matters worse for shareholders. He’ll find another start-up and he’ll begin his game all over again.

  Kay brushes herself off on the front porch. “What was that about?”

  “That was my boss.”

  She pauses. “What was he doing here?” Then her eyes widen and she brushes her frizzy tendrils off her face. “Your boss? Or your former boss?”

  I exhale a sigh. “My former boss.”

  “Why can’t you just go to work like normal people? Life is not a Greek tragedy.�
� She nods to the flowers as she comes in the house. “Who were they from?”

  “Kevin.” I start to tell her about his poetry, but decide against it.

  “So he seems pretty interested, huh?”

  “Either that, or he’s apologizing for his parents. Mei Ling called last night. Apparently, his mother pointed out some ‘work’ my mother might have done at the plastic surgeon’s office. Then gave her a card, and invited her to stay with them in Atlanta.”

  “I can’t see that riling your mother, Ashley. She wouldn’t even consider such a thing.”

  “No, but then Dr. Novak suggested my brother come to Atlanta, and said he could make as much being a caddy as a bus driver.”

  “Still, it’s Dave. Why would he care what Dr. Novak said?”

  “Because apparently, he offered Mei Ling a free gift of blepharoplasty.”

  “In English?”

  “An eyelid lift to rid her of Asian heritage.”

  Kay chokes on her bottled water. “Oh, Ashley, I’m so sorry. Did he see Mei Ling? Did he happen to notice how gorgeous she was?”

  “He’s a bigot, Kay, so I doubt it. He thinks everyone should look like Elaine Novak, with that constantly surprised look of hers.”

  “Does Kevin know?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so, and I don’t know what to tell him.”

  “You’ve got to tell him. They can’t be coming into the international melting pot of Silicon Valley and offering plastic surgery to various ethnic groups so they can look like white folks. What, does he think we all want to be Michael Jackson or something?”

  I shrug. “I’ll tell him. Right after I mention my unemployment epidemic.”

  “Maybe you should get the flu shot this year, Ash. You’ve had some bad luck.”

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Kay’s over any annoyance about my job status already. “Do you want me to make something for lunch?”

  “No, but thanks.” Maybe I can find some grunt job in the basement where I never have to meet face-to-face with anyone. Nah, nix that idea. Who would ever see my fabulous clothes?

  It must be me. I’m the common denominator in all these situations. Maybe I put too much pressure, too many conditions on being employed. And loved. Seth wouldn’t commit, and it’s hard to overcome that one. Hans has a love affair with cocaine, and he’s definitely not dealing with all eight cylinders there. And Kevin has white supremacists for parents. I let my head fall into my hands. If I’m a Reason, my dating repertoire consists of a Who’s Who list of Losers ’R Us. It’s definitely not me. Right? I’m only a victim of circumstance.

  32

  So, it’s Tuesday, and I have a six-day weekend to explore. Actually, I have an infinite weekend now, but I’m looking at the bright side of life. So yea! Six days. I’ve been avoiding Kevin’s phone calls. I’m just not sure how to tell him that I’m underemployed. Again. Or that his parents have a race issue. I mean, how does one start that conversation exactly? Oh, Kevin, nice to hear from you. Did you know your parents are . . . segregationists? Would you like me to quote the Civil Rights act of ’64 for them?

  The Novaks’ love of self and plastic surgery reminds me of that really old Twilight Zone, where the woman has several operations and cries at the end because she’s a gorgeous woman, not a “beautiful” ape like the rest of the planet. There’s something so mystifying about people who think they are the be-all to end-all—the yardstick, if you will, for all others. It makes you want to steal their mirrors and see what you’re missing.

  I wish I had a magic mirror, don’t you? I want to believe that my body is Uma Thurman’s. Just think if a mirror could solve this problem—how many “Extreme Makeovers” could be avoided? You just go into Home Depot, and there they are: This mirror is the fat thigh model—makes you look like Britney Spears when you turn around. Flat chest? That would be the Jessica Simpson model. I get up and look in my own mirror over my dresser. Clearly, I have too much time on my hands.

  I sink to my knees and start my day in prayer, thanking God that I’ve excelled at another job for a month. I’m hopeful that He has a bigger, better opportunity somewhere else. Maybe there’s a little wishful thinking in my prayers this morning, but God’s bigger than my issues.

  Kay raps at my door, and I open my eyes from prayer. “Come in!”

  “Hey there. Did you do something at church on Sunday?”

  “Why?”

  “The mail came bright and early and there’s all these thank-you notes for Thanksgiving.”

  “Cool.” I nod my head.

  “Ashley?”

  “What?” I ask in an overly innocent tone while I straighten out my sheets.

  “Are you going to be here this morning? The contractor is supposedly starting.”

  “I’ll wait for him.”

  “Kevin called again early this morning. He hopes he didn’t wake you up.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “Are you going to call him?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “At least talk to Brea about it before you do anything. At least you listen to her.” Kay starts to shut the door, and then sticks her head back in. “Whatever you did on Sunday, thank you for that.” She waves the cards at me.

  “You’re welcome.” I plop back on my bed, not quite sure what to do with my overly calm lifestyle of late. I need a little excitement, so I call Brea. She’s finally home.

  “Hello, Ashley,” she breathes into the phone.

  “Brea, how’s life with your mom around 24/7?” As if I couldn’t tell by her tone.

  “Am I a complete putz? Because I know I’m not exactly book smart, but I did manage to score myself a pretty good man, a pretty good life here, did I not?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Is my child not the most gorgeous little Baby Gap man you’ve ever seen? Do I understand the concept of dressing him without Garanimals?”

  “Things going that well, huh?” I crinkle my nose.

  “Come get this baby and take him out for a while, Ashley. He’s being nitpicked to death, and I worry we’re about to have a shower scene from Psycho.”

  “You know, I really resent being called the drama queen here. Your mother thinks I’m the drama queen because you’ll go and be all nice to her and then unleash on me. And you know what? She’s going to rip my head off for trying to take baby Miles out of the house.”

  “But I’m your best friend, and you’re coming anyway,” Brea states.

  “I have two words for you: Dan Hollings. I had a date with Dan Hollings for you.”

  “That was nearly a year ago, and he wasn’t that bad. Quit your whining. It made Seth jealous.”

  “Could we not mention his name, please?” Now Rhett is whining. “I have to take the dog out and wait for the contractor. I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

  “You better come, or I’m calling Seth in India and telling him you miss him and want to bear his children.”

  We both start cracking up. “You are such a terrible liar.”

  “Bring me an espresso on your way, will you? Decaf, of course.”

  The doorbell rings. “I think the contractor is here. Gotta run.” I open the door and my mouth pops open like one of Kay’s Christmas choir statues. The contractor has light brown hair (the color of a golden leaf in fall), honey brown eyes, and a chiseled build that probably has a twelve-pack hiding within. I’m so pathetically shallow. But I feel like it’s a sign. When the hotties come in on Average Joe, does the gal not react? It’s a sign. It’s perfectly acceptable that I’m attracted to Dr. Kevin Novak.

  The left side of his mouth curls slowly and reveals the most perfect set of teeth I’ve ever laid eyes upon. Clearly, his parents spent some money at the orthodontist. He’s packing a tool belt, and it pulls at his Levi’s dangerously.

  “Hi, I’m Colin. Colin Law.” He wipes his hands on his jeans and thrusts one toward me.

  “Ashley Stockingdale. Nice to meet you.” I ope
n the door a bit wider. “Come on in, I’ll tell you where to get started.”

  I start to walk down the hallway, and I’m realizing this guy is behind me. With all his muscles and rigid cuts on his stomach, what can he be thinking? When was her last time at the gym? 1980? “It’s just right in there.” I point.

  “You look very familiar,” he says.

  “Do I?” I giggle. Yes, I giggled and I can’t take it back now.

  He’s pointing at me trying to place the face. “I can’t remember her name. She was in Pirates of the Caribbean. You look like her.”

  More giggling. Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery. I point at the round metal hole in the middle of what used to be the bathroom. “We really need a toilet.”

  “I’ve got to get the floor in first.” He apologizes with a shrug.

  “Well, Colin, you’ve got two women here trying to get ready. If we both have a date.” See there, just let him know we’re not together. So very subtle. This is why I am a lawyer. “Well, if we both have a date, it’s just misery.”

  He looks at me. “Did you want to get that?”

  “Get what?”

  “The phone. It’s ringing,” Colin says.

  “Right. The phone. Getting the phone.” I back up toward my room, lest he get another view of the full moon. “I’ll just be on the telephone if you need anything.” I reach for the phone just as it stops ringing. And no ID either. Sigh. I let the answering machine get it.

  I clamber into some Halogen jeans (only brand that makes the legs long enough for me), and don a Gap T-shirt under my Juicy sweatshirt. Brushing some powdered foundation over my face and dabbing lip gloss, I figure this is as good as it’s going to get without appearing high maintenance. I grab Rhett’s leash, and we head up the hallway. Rhett whimpers at the sight of Colin. “I know, huh?” I say to the dog.

  “Leaving me?” Colin asks.

  “Um, yeah. Gotta babysit today and I’m—”

  “Are you a nanny?” he asks.

  “No, I’m a lawyer. A patent attorney.” You know, a contract geek.