“It used to be two doors down. But it’s probably broken. Everything has broken or gone wrong today. There’s no reason why that should be any different.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“I tell you it can’t be working.”
Sonia returned a few moments later with two cups of coffee. Marina had thrown herself somewhere behind the mounds of paperwork on her desk; Sonia peered over the stacks before setting one steaming cup down.
“Don’t start,” Marina warned. “If I were a little less chintzy, I’d probably get some extra help around here. But don’t think I don’t know where everything is.” Marina gulped some of the hot brew and settled back with a sigh. “I’ve had better days.”
“I get that feeling.”
“That glow is still on your face,” Marina said glumly, glaring at Sonia as she settled back in the chair. “And no one but you would have dared put those colors together.”
Sonia chuckled. Her pale violet jumpsuit had had a drab look to it, until she found a pair of violet and leaf-green sandals, then added a leaf-green rope necklace and belt. In bright colors, the blend wouldn’t have worked, but in pastels the two were eye-catching.
The glow came far more naturally, and like a smug cat with cream, Sonia knew it was there. They’d been home from their four-day cruise for a week. And all that week happiness had been free, like a gift.
“I refuse to ask if you’ve made any decision about the job, because I can’t take another setback today,” Marina informed her. “So we’ll just drink our coffee. I want to hear about every detail of that vacation of yours, then you will listen to me rant until I calm down-”
“I think I will take the job, if you can live with my terms,” Sonia said mildly.
“If that place in Dayton sends me one more batch of mismatched sizes, I’m going to-” Marina set down her coffee cup and leaned forward, skeptical eyes riveted on Sonia. “Terms I can live with. My husband, not always,” she drawled deadpan. “Let’s hear it. I even forgive you for being beautiful.”
Sonia burst out laughing. “I’m serious, darn it.”
“And I’m listening.” Marina’s blue eyes abruptly got a shrewd look in them. Business was business, after all.
“I want to set up your consulting corner, just as we talked about it. I’ll set it up, organize it, staff it and keep a long nose in on your buying choices,” Sonia said frankly. She leaned back in the chair, her chin on her knuckles. “So far not too bad?”
“I’m waiting for the bad part.”
“I think I could get the whole project rolling before your fall clothes come in,” Sonia said musingly, “if you’d allow a little extra budget for some additional costs.”
“Expected.”
Sonia nodded. “But from there, I want a part-time supervisory role, Marina,” she said quietly. “I’ve thought about it. I believe it can be set up to function well with the proper staff. After that, I would love to be involved, but only if you want me on a part-time basis.”
“I want you on any basis, you nitwit. You chose half my spring line as it was, talking over coffee.” Marina shot her a disappointed look, half resigned. “Why not more?”
“Babies,” Sonia said honestly.
“Babies?”
“You know. They usually come in six- to eight-pound packages. Not house-trained, hairless, toothless. There’s really very little to redeem the little…”
Marina’s eyes were suddenly twinkling. “Oh, God. You haven’t fallen for that game?”
“I’d tell you I was nine days pregnant, but you’d call me a fool.” Sonia grinned impishly, her cheek still cupped in her palm. “Shut up, Marina. I can see by the expression on your face…Anyway, I’ve got a few months ahead where I can work like the devil, and then a few months where I’m hoping I’ll be so bloated and ugly and fat that I won’t want to venture out of the house. Although, if not…”
“I would love to see you bloated and ugly and fat,” Marina remarked. “Knowing Craig, I expect he would, too. Have a busy vacation, did you?”
“I came here to talk business,” Sonia said severely.
Marina slid her glasses back on top of her head. “We can negotiate your leave of absence over lunch.”
Sonia stepped out of the Passat and stretched, surprised to see Craig’s car parked in the drive. It was only two in the afternoon, hours before he normally returned from work. Her lips curled in an anticipatory smile as she bent over the backseat to snatch up her packages.
Tawny Lady came bounding toward her as Sonia slammed the car door. Chuckling, she rapidly tried to maneuver the packages to protect herself against a very long, very wet wagging tail. “You’ve been swimming,” Sonia scolded. “Now, you know I’ll pet you, but you’ll have to wait until I change my clothes.”
Sonia sighed at the limpid, pleading eyes and exuberant tail and extended her hand. Immediately, a very wet, shaggy head nuzzled beneath it, content with just that moment’s contact before the dog spotted a rabbit-undoubtedly imaginary-in the brush and took off again. Sonia stared at her wet palm, shook it and gingerly maneuvered her way toward the house, under the burden of packages.
The kitchen was blessedly cool, and silent. “Craig?” Setting her packages on the counter, Sonia turned on the faucet and rinsed her hands. As she was drying them, an impish smile creased her features, and she reached into the cupboard for two glasses. A gin and tonic seemed an adequate welcome for a husband home early, even if it was still the middle of the day.
Carrying the glasses through the hall a few minutes later, Sonia glanced into the living room and then passed through to the bedroom, taking a tiny sip from her drink. She smiled. Craig’s was the actual gin and tonic; hers was the tonic with lots of fresh lime-she’d never had a real liking for hard liquor. Craig had always teased her for referring to her favorite drink as a G & T…
Her eyes widened in surprise as she paused in the bedroom doorway. A suitcase was on the bed, half filled.
Craig stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in gray suit pants and white shirt, a tie hung loosely around his neck, and he was holding a shaving kit. She’d sent an extremely relaxed, well-rested man to work, and he’d returned strained and exhausted. A pallor cloaked his tan, and his eyes were stone-hard and dark blue. A tense, determined purpose marked every movement he made.
Surprise yielded to instant empathy. She surged forward, set down her drink and handed him his, as she took the shaving kit from his hands. “I’ll do that. Darn it. What happened? Where are you going this time?”
It had happened before, though not often. The extraction process that Craig had developed was new and experimental. Problems cropped up quickly in the oil business, and solving them always seemed to be complicated, expensive and exhausting. He’d made a trip to Atlanta one time and another to northern California, and Craig was invariably crabby when travel and trouble went together.
Sonia viewed the jumble of shirts in the suitcase with a sigh that was amused in spite of her concern. The man couldn’t pack worth a damn. His shirts inevitably looked like wrinkled raisins, and he never remembered socks. “Jeans or suits?” she asked efficiently, and glanced back with a warm supportive smile.
Her eyebrows lifted just a little when he didn’t return her smile. Craig’s eyes glowed into hers, bright blue and tense; there was a watchfulness about him. Abruptly, he turned to the closet, drawing out yet more shirts.
“Hey,” she murmured teasingly, confused by the steadfast stare. Determination radiated from him like a quiet menace, and when he’d shifted his eyes from hers she felt an uneasy lurch in her stomach.
“I have to go to Chicago, Sonia. Only for a few days. Not long, I promise you.”
Such a gentle, gentle voice. Her heart flipped over again. “I’ll do that,” she insisted, taking the shirts from his hand, but her voice suddenly wavered. She motioned him to the chair with all the authority of an old-fashioned schoolmarm trying to win a smile.