Jasmine was several paces ahead when Casey said to Lou, “Did you see the slap?”
“Uh-huh.”
Jasmine spun around. “I didn’t need your help! I didn’t even want you here, but there you were butting in and acting like you know everything. It’s pathetic.”
“What’s pathetic is your behavior.” Casey’s heartbeat quickened. “You were completely unprofessional.”
“And you’ve never made mistakes because you’re just so perfect.” Her eyes blazed.
“What’s wrong, Jasmine?” Lou asked. “I’ve never seen you lose it like that.”
“I’ve never had to work with her before.” Jasmine charged toward the administration building.
“What is her bloody problem?” Casey asked.
“Who knows? You’ve got a bit of pear stuck in your hair.” Lou removed the scrap of food and flicked it on the ground.
“Thanks.” She stroked his freckled cheek. “I need a hot shower.”
“Seeing as how Stan will probably hear from the parents of a girl in a training bra, maybe you should write your report first.”
“True.” Raindrops started to sprinkle her face. “How loud do you think he’ll yell after he’s read it?”
TWO
CASEY STARED AT HER COMPUTER screen and wished to god that Jasmine would get off the damn phone. Her desk was so close that words like “Miss Perfect,” “meddling,” and “self-righteous” were especially distracting, not to mention galling. Where in hell had Jasmine come up with the “Miss Perfect” notion? Nearly everyone at Mainland knew about Casey’s failed marriage. Some knew about her estranged relationship with her mother, and how things were still unresolved when Mother died last spring. Sure, there’d been some success at work, but she’d also made mistakes. Who hadn’t?
“I’ll be okay,” Jasmine said. “No, it’s not just that. I’ll tell you about the other stuff later; too many big ears around here.”
Casey felt rather than saw Jasmine’s stare. She hadn’t wanted her desk to face the one Jasmine and Marie shared, but the security department was cramped. Over the summer, Stan restructured the security department, making Casey second-in-command and ensuring she had her own desk. Marie still complained now and then about having to share hers.
Casey started to reread the last paragraph of her report when a familiar voice said, “Who called you an ass?”
She looked up to find Summer standing behind her chair, reading a Post-it note fastened to the top of her screen. “Oh, hi.” She checked her watch.
“It says, ‘Don’t forget time sheets, ASS,’” Summer said.
“Remember Stan’s assistant, Amy? The tiny lady with the white hair you met last month?”
“Yeah, she was nice.”
“Her full name is Amy Sarah Sparrow. I think she uses her initials on purpose.”
“Oh.” Summer smiled and looked at the cluttered desk beside Casey’s. “Where is she?”
“Delivering documents for Stan. Shouldn’t you be at swim practice?”
Summer’s gaze drifted to the accounting and human resources areas at the other end of the room. “I quit the team.”
“What?” Six months ago, this child was determined to make the national team one day. “Why?”
Summer glanced at Jasmine, who’d finally ended her call. “I’ve got too much homework, and my grades are bad.”
“What grades? School started only two and a half weeks ago.”
Summer sat on the edge of Casey’s desk. “I had a math quiz today and couldn’t answer half the questions. Grade seven’s way too hard.”
Casey folded her arms. “Did you study?”
She looked away. “With Tiffany and Ashley, yeah.”
That explained it. Those two girls had been hanging around the house ever since Summer met them at the rec center in August. All the girls did was listen to rap music and gossip about boys. Apparently, no one else’s mom was cool enough to hang with. Casey sensed that the girls didn’t think of her as a real parent.
She still remembered the tears in Rhonda’s eyes as she practically begged her to become Summer’s legal guardian. Part of Casey had wanted to say no, but Rhonda had been Casey’s surrogate mom and later, her close friend. She’d helped Casey through tough times, so turning Rhonda down wasn’t an option, especially when Rhonda’s emotional state had been so fragile.
“Don’t tell Grandma about the test, okay? She still wants me to change schools and move in with her.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.” Winifred’s frequent remarks about how and where Summer should be raised bothered Casey. “You know she can’t make you move unless I allow it, right?”
Summer bit her lower lip. “Are you sure?”
“Totally.” Casey squeezed her hand. “I’ll help you with math, but I want you to rethink quitting the team, okay?”
“What for?”
“You’ve always loved competing.” Aware that Jasmine was staring at her computer screen but not typing, Casey murmured, “You have a room filled with medals and ribbons proving how good you are.”
“That’s for babies.”
Where did this come from? Summer had always been proud of her accomplishments. Still, the poor kid had changed a lot since Rhonda’s sentencing four months ago. The naïve little girl who used to tell Casey everything had lost most of her sweet-natured innocence and, sadly, her willingness to confide. Neither of them had talked about Rhonda since her last tearful, phone call on Summer’s birthday in early August. Her incarceration was still too painful to think about, let alone discuss.
“Can my friends come over?” Summer asked.
“Sorry, no. I have another shift this evening, and it’s a school night. Anyway, it sounds like you have lots of math to review.”
“But Tiffany and Ashley help me.”
“Not this time.” She’d been hearing too many protests lately. “I’ll ask Mrs. Nally from next door to stay with you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Hi,” Lou said, entering the room, his eyes widening when he saw Summer. “How’s it going?”
“Craptacular.” She stomped to the row of palms and dracaena separating security from the other departments.
As Lou’s smile faded, Casey could almost guess what he was thinking. He’d had misgivings about her becoming Summer’s guardian; said that parenting a teen who’d be missing her mom would be tough for a busy single woman with no experience. Lou didn’t know what it felt like to have a mother leave home. The shame and anger Casey had once felt over Mother’s adultery had gradually transformed into sadness and emptiness. At least she’d had Dad and Rhonda. No one even knew who Summer’s father was.
“Who’s your young friend, Lou?” Jasmine’s voice was all honey and charm.
“Summer.”
“Hey, Summer,” Jasmine called out. “I hear you hate math. Me too.”
Summer strolled to Jasmine’s desk and started complaining about her teacher.
“Stan wants to see me,” Lou whispered to Casey.
“I figured he would.”
“Lou, come here a sec.” Jasmine waved him over.
Seeing his hesitation, Casey said, “Go ahead, I need to finish my report.”
Once he moved to Jasmine’s desk, the woman started whispering. Casey bit the inside of her mouth to keep from saying something petty about the obvious attempt to exclude her. The sooner she finished this report, the better. She resumed typing, careful to stick to the facts and not add her opinion about Jasmine’s behavior on the M10. The facts were damning enough.