Flash Flood Page 7

  Lonesome and thinking about the past echoed through his mind, but he shoved it aside. “Saturday I drove into Kentucky and enjoyed a bit of early spring. Sunday I attended a church here in Radisen, grabbed a to-go lunch, jogged a few miles, and read a great novel. Oh, and I took a nap. Old age must be settling in.” He hesitated. “Do you know why you woke up so early?”

  “Not a clue.”

  So I could call? “Guess I should let you try to sleep again.” She yawned again. “It’s nearly four thirty, and we have to work today.”

  “See you in a few hours, and thanks for understanding about my early morning call. It’s—it’s been good talking to you.” Ryan disconnected the call and set his cell phone on the nightstand. Wide awake, he headed for his laptop to get a head start on the day. He hoped the rest of the day made more sense than these last few minutes.

  Vulnerable best described how Alina felt. She should have exploded at Ryan for calling at such a horrible hour. Instead, she chatted away like the time or their business relationship meant nothing—like a giddy teenager. Why, she nearly flirted with him. How utterly disgusting.

  If only she hadn’t been awake to begin with—and thinking about him. And yes, she’d been talking to God about the mess in her life, and she’d shed buckets of tears in the process. In a peculiar way, it seemed perfectly logical that Ryan should call a little after four in the morning. After all, he’d occupied her thoughts since before three.

  If she didn’t watch her every step, Ryan would discover her feelings for him. How would she handle that catastrophe? Alina groaned and punched her pillow. The thought of him learning about the love buried in her heart for over six years sent her stomach into a twist worse than a roller-coaster ride.

  Unable to sleep, she threw back the blankets and headed for the shower. With all this extra time, she’d edit her résumé and send it to a few prospective employers. Two companies in Columbus had indicated interest. The commute from Columbus to Anna’s home was about an hour and a half. Definitely doable.

  She stretched. About two o’clock this afternoon, she’d be searching the drawers in the break room for toothpicks to hold her eyes open. Thank you very much, Mr. Ryan Erikson. One more time you succeeded in robbing me of precious sleep. He held the record for the cause of her insomnia. If only … the truth could be hidden from him, but she feared he’d one day learn her secret.

  A tear slipped from her eye and rolled down her cheek. Emotional rain. Love showers. A flood of regret. No matter how she termed it, remorse always came in the form of Ryan Erikson.

  nine

  Tuesday, 9:30 a.m.

  “Alina, how are things with the terminator?” James poked his head inside her office right after Ryan disappeared with Deidre to access records on the second floor.

  James’s stance on the buyout had nearly gotten the best of her on numerous occasions. “Your attitude is not my idea of cooperation. Neither is it a way to respect Fred. Even if you don’t like Ryan, you could still honor Fred’s request.”

  “So he’s won you over? I thought you had more sense than to side with the enemy.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’m disappointed in you.”

  “Ryan is not the enemy, and neither is Neon. Fred went to them when his health dictated retirement and he realized customers needed better service. You know that as well as I do. And you, of all people, should recognize Flash’s inability to stay up-to-date with technology.”

  “People here in Radisen are fine with our service. You have a degree that will help you land another job, even if you’re one of the unlucky employees who won’t have one. I don’t have a college education, and neither do my guys. We have families to feed. Kids to clothe. Rent to pay. You don’t have a clue about finances.”

  Alina’s temperature gauge registered above the boiling point, and anger took over. She stood and clenched her fists. “If you don’t leave my office this instant, I will go to Fred with the recommendation that he replace you. Then you can tell Becky and the kids how you lost your job.” She took a deep breath, and common sense flowed back into her veins. “James, you’ve been coming to Bible study for the past few months. Your family has regularly attended church. Harboring bitterness and resentment is not what God wants for any of us. I admit I’m having a hard time with the buyout, but I want to please God and do my best for Him. By improving my attitude, I help Fred.” She took a deep breath. “I apologize for spewing at you—not for the words but for how I said them.”

  James’s jaw tightened, and he whirled around. The keys on his belt jingled down the hall. Alina stood and watched him head back to where the servicemen gathered when not on calls. He might not have appreciated what she said, but she felt God had spoken to James through her words. Ironic, yet so like her heavenly Father.

  “Good job,” Deidre said.

  Alina turned to see her friend grinning like a child with a bag of candy. “You heard?”

  “Every word. James received a heavy dose of reality from you. He’s been stirring up trouble among the employees, and I don’t like it. Sooner or later he’ll have to make a choice, or Fred and Ryan will have him escorted out the door.”

  Alina nodded. She swallowed a lump the size of a golf ball. Tears for James Ferguson? Why not? God wept oceans for His children.

  “Here comes Ryan now,” Deidre said. “I opt for not telling him about your recent visitor.”

  “He won’t hear it from my lips.”

  “Have either of you seen James?” Ryan asked a moment later. “We have an appointment.”

  “I saw him head that way,” Alina said, pointing toward the back. “He’s probably with the servicemen.”

  “Thanks. We’re supposed to go on a few calls together.”

  “With James?” Deidre’s face paled.

  “Yeah. If I don’t return, call out the National Guard.” Ryan chuckled, but Alina didn’t think it was a bit funny.

  “Who else is going?” Alina asked. “Just in case we get worried.” She forced a smile.

  “No one. Oh, he’s harmless. All talk. See you later.” Ryan strolled down the same hall that James had taken.

  Alina crossed her arms over her chest. “Remind me never to take a job like Ryan’s.”

  “Certainly not without disability insurance.”

  “Oh, you are witty.” She shrugged. “I hope James doesn’t lose his temper.”

  “Be careful. Your heart is showing.” Deidre wagged a finger at her.

  “I’m going on Fred’s recommendation. Fred likes him, and I like Fred.”

  “Hey, girlfriend, this is Deidre here. Don’t forget, I know the bottom line.”

  Thursday, 10:15 a.m.

  Ryan realized he’d stepped into dangerous territory when he agreed to ride with James on the afternoon calls. From his past dealings with employees who openly displayed hostility, Ryan believed James’s problem was gut-wrenching fear. Some men clothed themselves with a macho image in times of distress instead of seeking out answers to the problems that affected their ego.

  When he first read James’s file and saw his qualifications and his outstanding record, Ryan wanted to keep him on board. But the man’s belligerent attitude had to change, or James would be gone by Monday morning. Threats and accusations might work in the pool hall, but not in the business world where upper management called the shots.

  James stood outside his van with a couple of other servicemen. From the venom-tipped darts the man’s eyes aimed at Ryan, he gathered the afternoon would be either incredibly long or incredibly short. James still hadn’t given him an answer about whether he planned to use his skills and leadership abilities or hit the road. Ryan should have forced his hand the day James cornered him in the break room. Instead he let it ride, and nothing had been resolved. Not good in the management department.

  Ryan greeted the other men, then turned to James without waiting for a response. “I’m ready if you are.”

  James failed to reply but moved toward the drive
r’s side of the van. “You men have work to do. Get at it.” He laughed and waved.

  Once inside the van, Ryan took out a clipboard. “Am I being tested?”

  He managed a laugh for James’s benefit. “I already know your abilities. This is for me to evaluate any differences between the ways Flash and Neon personnel handle service calls. You may have a procedure that we need to incorporate or the other way around.”

  “I’m not rude to customers, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Nice added touch. “Fred respects the work you do. If customers complained, he wouldn’t have kept you working for the past five years.”

  “So it is a test.” Caustic best described James’s tone.

  Ryan ignored him. No point in fueling an argument. They bumped down the street, hitting every pothole. He refused to complain. Framed children’s photos attached to pieces of leather swung back and forth from the rearview mirror.

  “Those are your children?” Ryan asked.

  “Yeah. Have four of them.”

  “How old are they?”

  “Jonathon’s eight, Jarrod’s seven, Jenna’s five, and Jason’s three.”

  Ryan hadn’t asked for names. Maybe he could get inside James’s heart through his kids, and they were a good-looking bunch. The older boy posed with a ball. “So the oldest plays soccer?”

  “And Jenna, although Jarrod is more interested in baseball and piano.”

  “That’s a different combination.” What a breakthrough. He’s talking to me.

  “My wife wants them to be exposed to everything. Whatever they’re good at will help when it comes around to college scholarship time.”

  So James cared about his family. They weren’t rug rats or liabilities, but his children. “And education is expensive,” Ryan said. “I had a few grants, but mostly I worked my way through.”

  “I took you for the family-money kind of guy.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Nope, my parents were blue-collar workers who instilled in us the value of learning.”

  “Are you saying something’s wrong with blue-collar people?”

  Great, here it comes: animosity barreling down the field. “Not at all. I’m proud of my folks. They helped me see the value of hard work.”

  The van pulled to a stop in front of a home. “Look, I’m not into small talk or swapping family stories, especially with someone I don’t like. But I have a job to do and a family to support.”

  “I understand.”

  “I doubt it. What I’m saying is you wanted my cooperation, and I’ll give it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No need. This is for Fred. He gave me a job and trained me when no one else was interested.”

  “I’ll be blunt here. You have the know-how to keep the service department running smoothly. I’d like to recommend Neon keep you on as foreman of the crew, but I have to see for myself that you’re willing to cooperate with the ones running the show.”

  “Fair enough, but I don’t have to like you.”

  “I’m not asking for flowers and candy, just respect and a good day’s work.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Ryan felt like he’d made a little headway. “And for the record, Neon pays for employees who want to continue their education as long as it will benefit their current job. They also give out thousands of dollars in college scholarships to employees’ kids.”

  James opened his door. “Is all that in a handbook somewhere?”

  “Yes, and also online.”

  “I don’t have computer skills, and I hear Neon keeps all of their service calls there. Maybe I could take a class on that.” James peered at him. “Don’t be blowing smoke about any of this. You might have some of the other folks on your side, but I’m not easily convinced.”

  “Trust takes time.”

  “So does raising kids.”

  Thursday, 8:30 p.m.

  Alina switched off the vacuum, unplugged it, and wound the cord around the handle. Housecleaning done for another week. She snatched up the furniture polish and tucked it under her arm along with the dust cloth as she pushed the vacuum to the closet. My whole apartment smells yummy-lemon and sparkles with a dust-free sheen. She smiled. Maybe I should consider going into television and doing commercials.

  She glanced around at the eclectic collection of antiques and sleek contemporary designs mixed with vibrant reds and bright yellows. A room to fit her every mood. Most of the time, she grappled with which mood fit her that day.

  At the moment her stomach growled for food. Some days she overloaded on coffee, chocolate, and peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, and other days she ate like a Victorian lady with dainty amounts of healthful, no-nonsense food. At this very moment, a can of tomato soup with sprinkles of basil and a heavy dose of garlic croutons sounded very appetizing.

  After washing her hands, she reached for the can of soup and the opener from a drawer that was in dire need of organization. Tomorrow night she’d tackle the clutter. Right now, she simply wanted to relax.

  How exciting. She planned to clean drawers on a Friday night. Unfortunately, her life had been like this for the past six years. No hope for a man to fill her dreams; she had responsibilities a man would never understand.

  Alina took a deep breath and flipped on the radio. She refused to start in with the woe-is-me list. A knock at the door surprised her. She made her way to the door and took a glimpse through the peephole, then flung it open.

  “Hi, Deidre. Come on in. What brings you in from the farm?”

  She laughed and held up a plastic-covered dish. “This is Thursday, cleaning night, and you normally don’t eat until about now.”

  “Vietnamese food?” Alina lifted the lid. The aroma of vegetables was intoxicating. “Oh, this is heavenly.”

  “It’s still warm, so grab a fork. I have a few minutes before Clay goes nuts getting the kids bathed and ready for bed. He’s been on the tractor all day.”

  Alina grinned. “And to think I was about to open a can of soup.”

  “Well, I have another reason for being here. I wanted to see the English washstand you just bought.”

  “It’s in my bathroom. Take a look and I’ll get you a glass of iced tea.” She pulled out a couple of glasses and opened the fridge.

  “It’s beautiful,” Deidre called. “And it fits in here nicely.”

  “Thanks. I got it for a good price.”

  Deidre reappeared in the kitchen. She tilted her head. Confusion etched lines in her face. “Alina, I have a question.”

  “Sure, fire away—and no, you can’t have my washstand.”

  “Maybe this is none of my business.”

  Deidre’s concern nudged Alina’s conscience. “Go ahead. Bringing me Vietnamese food entitles you to ask anything.”

  “Has Ryan’s picture always been on your dresser?”

  Alina startled. Why hadn’t she remembered to put the picture of them away? “Ah … no. I found it in my closet the other day and forgot to put it back.”

  “Let’s sit down and talk.” Deidre pointed to the sofa. “This is your girlfriend here, and besides bringing you dinner, I want to have a heart-to-heart talk about your problem with Ryan.”

  With anyone else Alina would have danced around the situation and laughed off any implications of her feelings for Ryan. But this was Deidre. “All right, but can I eat while we talk?”

  Deidre eased into an antique rocker. “Sure, but don’t use your fingers. It’s not polite, and I don’t want you fainting from lack of food.” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “Seriously, have you noticed the way Ryan looks at you?”

  Alina’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “Sometimes I twist around in my chair to see what’s happening in your office. At first it was to make sure you two weren’t killing each other, but now it’s to see how many times I can find Ryan staring at your back.”

  Alina sat on the edge of her sofa. “He’s probably concentrating on som
ething.”

  “My point exactly.”

  Alina waved her fork. “You’re seeing things. Besides, I’m very careful to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong impression. Oh, this is good.” Her heart thumped against her chest. Was Deidre right?

  “Alina, what happens when the others notice, too?”

  “That bad? I mean, I don’t want to be rude.” Alina leaned back on the sofa. She couldn’t hide the turmoil any longer. “What am I to do? Are you sure he’s staring at me?’

  “There’s a look a man gives a woman when they are working together professionally. There’s also a look of admiration a man gives a woman from time to time. There’s also a look a man can give that deserves a slap. Then there’s the look of a man in love—and he can’t disguise it. Ryan is as much in love with you as you are with him.”

  “Since when did you become an expert on love?”

  “I was born a woman.”

  The impact of Deidre’s words gave Alina’s stomach a funny little flip. “No matter what you think you saw, nothing can come of it.”

  “Why? Did he betray you in college and now you can’t forgive him or trust him?”

  Alina set the food on the coffee table in front of her. “He never gave me a reason not to trust him. It’s Anna. I can’t ask a man to share me with my mentally challenged sister. She’s my responsibility. What if I married and my husband wanted children? I couldn’t get pregnant, because then I’d have to quit my job or take a leave of absence. Who would pay for Anna’s care?”

  Deidre stood and walked across the room. When she faced Alina again, her eyes moistened. “You’re denying yourself and any potential husband happiness because of money? Alina, aren’t you doubting God in this? If you trust Him with your soul, why not trust Him to provide for Anna?”

  A wave of sickness swept over her. She swallowed hard. “Believe me, this problem is complicated, and parts of it are real … ugly. Walking away from love is my lot in life. Once this transition is completed, Ryan will be gone and I’ll be able to deal with life again.”

  “But you love a good, Christian man, and I believe he loves you. Would you simply pray about the situation? Ask God what He wants for your life?”