Silver Belles by Laura K. Curtis

Author:Laura K. Curtis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: River Hills Press
Published: 2016-10-27T19:37:11+00:00

* * *

Kate woke at eleven to the smell of coffee. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she sat on the edge of the bed, opened the list she’d made on her phone and added an entry for new clothes. She couldn’t even consider going back to the office without them. She was just typing “makeup” into her phone when a tremendous crash sounded downstairs. She hit the kitchen at a run and found Adam picking up pieces of broken china.

“Watch your step,” he said. He glanced at her bare feet and she wished she hadn’t given up pedicures when she stopped wearing cute shoes.

“What happened?”

“Misjudged my hold on a platter. Could you grab the dustpan and broom? They’re in the closet over there.”

She helped him clean up the mess, then forced him to sit down while she made eggs and bacon. “I’m a pretty terrible cook,” she admitted as she set a plate down in front of him, “but even I can manage this.”

“Huh. I’d have thought you were the type to enjoy cooking.”

“Why?” She waited for the inevitable wife-and-mother remark, but as usual Adam surprised her.

“I noticed your office. You’re very organized, and often people with that trait turn out to be happy in kitchens. Of course, they often turn out to be good at computers, too, and you’re the exception there.” His hazel eyes twinkled.

Kate thought about her office with its perfectly sharpened pencils, the planner neatly aligned on her desk, the list waiting on her smartphone, the anti-anxiety meds in her purse. “That’s not my natural state.” She let out a long, slow breath. “It’s a defense mechanism. A coping strategy. If it looks organized and manageable, I can convince myself that it is organized and manageable.”

“And if everyone in the office thinks you have it under control, you’ll get it under control?”

“I’m a jerk, right?”

He laughed. “Not at all. That’s the same attitude I take. Error message I’ve never seen? ‘Sure, I can fix that. No problem.’ Then I run back to my office and ask people who know more about it than I do until I get an answer.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I thought for sure when you came in for your interview you knew I was faking it.”

“I did. But I don’t hold it against you.” He leaned on his good hand, gaze fixed on her. “Do you enjoy what you do?”

No one, not even Miranda, had ever asked her that. Did she think she could succeed, what kind of struggle was her current business facing, did she think enough businesses needed her help to keep at it for a lifetime—those questions were plentiful. But never whether she liked the work.

“I do. But it’s a process. A new company is like one of those messy paintings where all you see are blotches and streaks. When I look at it from a bunch of angles, near and far, the picture emerges. Then I try to find the anomaly, the spot where the artist used red instead of green or put a fish in a tree.

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