Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AUDREY
“It’s Toni, isn’t it? Your one-night stand,” Willa stage-whispers as we walk out of the conference room.
There is no point in denying it to Willa, of all people, but I don’t have to confirm it, either.
“And what’s this I hear about you singing karaoke that night?” Willa says.
“You told me to make sure Shae stayed away.”
“You said you were just going to watch that she didn’t leave the bar, not go in and tell her to fuck off from the stage. I am so proud of you. Oh my gosh. I wish I’d been there to see the look on that douche canoe’s face.”
I grinned. “It was pretty epic.”
“Goddamn right you were,” Willa says.
“I don’t know what came over me.”
“Whatever it was, tap into it more often. Especially if you’re tapping into Toni Danzig.”
“Willa.”
“Finally, you’re interested in someone I approve of.”
“You barely know her.”
“She’s much better for you than Shae.”
I stop abruptly. “How in the world could you decide that on two minutes of conversation?” I hold up my hand. “And don’t give me that gift of discernment bullshit.”
Willa grins. “I might not know Toni, but I know Shae and she was wrong for you from the start.” I glare at her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s talk about Toni instead.”
“Willa, there’s nothing to talk about. We had a one-night stand. Now we work together. I’ve explained to her why nothing at all can happen between us and she gets it. So, no playing matchmaker.”
“Me? I would never. You’re right. No hanky-panky while we’re on this project. But after…”
“Oh, hey, look,” I say. “Here comes Kris Kringle to get you out of my hair.”
Willa waves at Ned and says, “Give me two minutes.”
“Meet you in the lobby.” He hitches his pants up over his dad belly and ambles through the office, smiling and waving at everyone along the way.
“He really is a perfect Santa Claus,” I say. I wish I was working with Ned. No distraction there at all.
“Truer words have never been spoken,” Willa replies.
My phone buzzes again, like it has dozens of times since Saturday night. I regret my decision each time it does. I should have known that she would double down on her efforts to convince me to come back, not rethink her shitty behavior. Note to self: never publicly humiliate someone with narcissistic personality disorder. Or a Pisces.
“Shae with a new number?” Willa asks.
“Yes.” I block the number and delete the message.
“Hey.” Willa puts her hands on my shoulders and turns me to face her. “Take a deep breath.” I do it because it’s easier than arguing. “Do you want me to talk to Shae?”
“No. I want to ignore her and pretend she doesn’t exist.”
“That’s probably not the right direction to take with her, but OK.”
“She’ll give up eventually.”
Willa nods but doesn’t look convinced.
“Now,” Willa says, “about Toni. I really do like her, and you can’t ever have too many friends. As long as I’m always number one, of course.”
“Naturally.”
“Promise me you won’t be all business.”
“But this is?—”
Willa puts her fingers on my lips to silence me. “I’m not saying bend her over the conference table and show her who’s boss, just relax and be yourself. Don’t be gruff business Audrey.” She removes her fingers.
“Can I talk now?” I ask.
Willa nods.
“I am going to be a professional hired to do a job. I set personal boundaries on Saturday and professional boundaries this morning. Toni will respect them. If she doesn’t, then that will be that.”
“Exactly. But what if you don’t respect them?” Willa asks.
I narrow my eyes at her.
“Right. This is you we’re talking about.”
“Ned’s waiting,” I say. “Have fun at the warehouse. See you tonight.” I lightly punch her in the shoulder for a goodbye, which is just as awkward as it sounds.
Willa laughs, rolls her eyes, and calls me a dork.
I’m grinning when I walk into the conference room—Willa’s laugh has always done that to me—and stop cold in the doorway. There’s Toni, leaning across the conference table to grab a pen, her hiking pants hugging her ass on full display. My mind immediately goes exactly where Willa meant for it to. I’m going to kill her.
“You OK?” Toni says.
I shake my head and smile. “Yes. Perfect.” I sit down in front of my computer and wake it. “Why don’t you tell me about your plans, and I’ll take notes.”
“Great. Yeah.” Toni pulls out her phone and opens the voice app.
“Wait.” I place my hand over hers and goosebumps race up my arm. I can’t move my hand; it’s as if some magnetic force has forged us together. We stare at our hands for a few seconds, or maybe longer, I honestly have no idea, before our gazes meet. I know I should say something, but what? My mind fills with the memory of gripping Toni’s hands while I went down on her, her grip painful when she shuddered to her third climax. I flush with desire from head to toe which means I look like I’m breaking out into hives.
I remove my hand from hers. “Let’s—” I clear the huskiness out of my throat. I want to fan myself but resist the urge. Maybe Toni hasn’t noticed my blotching. “Just talk it out.”
“Sure. Yeah. OK.” Toni’s voice is strained and a little high-pitched, like a teenager’s. “What was the question?” I feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth and Toni laughs. “So much for being professional. Sorry. I just, um…you felt that too, right?”
I nod. “I felt it, too.”
Toni sighs, but she’s grinning. “Thank God.”
Now I’m laughing. “What was that sigh for?”
“Well, I’d prepared myself for the typical rom-com storyline. We pretend to be professional, have a stupid misunderstanding that normal people wouldn’t have because they have basic communication skills.”
I laugh again. “In my experience very few people have basic communication skills, especially when it comes to relationships.”
“But we’re not like that, you see. Here we are, supposed to be working but we’re talking about stupid rom-com tropes. This wouldn’t happen until the mid-point of the story and here it is, happening in the first act.”
“Are you sure we’re still in the first act?” I tease, playing along with Toni’s analogy.
“Hmm. Good point. Maybe we are at the mid-point.”
“Are you a writer?”
“God, no. Sitting in front of a computer for hours all alone trying to put my thoughts into words and then down on paper? That’s my seventh circle of hell. But”—she raises her finger—“I took a screenwriting class in college because the teacher was hot. She taught me a lot. Even a little bit about story structure.”
Toni looks so cute and mischievous and I can’t help but wonder how I benefited from her “screenwriting” education. I shift in my chair and cross my legs. Toni notices, but doesn’t say anything.
My computer dings and dings and dings. Leave it to Shae to dump cold water on my good mood. Willa is right. I’m going to have to talk to her eventually because she is obviously not going to give up. I’ve already blocked five numbers and she isn’t taking the hint. I mute my computer as quickly as possible but Toni can see the screen.
“You’re popular,” she teases.
“I’d rather not be. It’s Shae.”
“Is she bothering you?”
“Yes, but I shouldn’t have humiliated her in public. I think she wants me back so she can publicly dump me.”
Toni studies me with a worried expression. “You shouldn’t blame yourself because Shae won’t leave you alone.”
“I’m not.”
Toni’s expression doesn’t change.
“Did I?”
“A little, yeah. Why haven’t you blocked her?”
“I have. She keeps texting me from different numbers.”
“So, she’s stalking you.”
I inhale, exhale, and give my best professional smile. “Let’s talk business. Tell me your plans,” I say.
Toni nods. “OK. My plan is for Fourteener Trekking to expand into corporate team-building tours and leverage the money we make from them to fund hiking programs for marginalized kids and adults.”
“Stop right there,” I say, and write down what she said. “That’s a perfect elevator pitch.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
She is so cute and guileless I want to grab her cheeks and kiss her. I don’t of course. Maybe Willa had a point about me not respecting my own boundaries. I shake the thought out of my head and return my focus to Toni’s pitch.
“Imagine you’re trying to sell me on this idea and all the time you have is a short elevator ride. A couple of sentences to summarize your product or idea. That’s an elevator pitch. Go on.”
“I want to create an outdoor education curriculum and lobby states to include it in their school curriculum. I want to expand our women-only tours and be a safe space for trans men and women to experience nature. I also want to expand outside of the US and partner with local, experienced guides around the world. My initial focus is on South America. So much wilderness to explore. Of course, we would only partner with tour operators who are focused on conservation, which might raise the cost a bit, but corporate accounts won’t mind and, as a rule, people who take outdoor adventure vacations are eco conscious. We could do eco tours that include volunteering for a day or two, as well.
“Part of me hates focusing on corporate business clients. But they’re willing and able to pay. We will take those profits and put as much as we can toward our real mission: making sure everyone, no matter what their situation, has a chance to get out into nature.”
“You can also leverage those corporate relationships into a source of donations for your foundation. I’m assuming you want to set up a non-profit foundation for your charity work?” I say, typing as fast as I can.
“Um, I guess so. I hadn’t gotten that far.”
I smile. “That’s why I’m here. A curriculum is an excellent idea, but education budgets are being cut all over the country. You’ll probably have to fund those programs through your foundation, which means corporate support.”
“Riiight.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She gives me a small smile. “It sounded so simple in my mind. Now it sounds really hard and complex.”
I remove my hands from my keyboard. “We’re brainstorming, Toni. That means pie in the sky ideas. From what little you’ve said, this project will need to be broken down into stages. It will probably take five years for you to get half of what you want, and ten years to get the rest, and even then, you won’t get everything you’ve mentioned. It seems daunting, I’m sure, but everything you’ve said is doable. We just have to be methodical in how we go about it. So, dream big right now, OK? We have all week to turn your ideas into an action plan. Or a rough outline of one. Action plans change each year, too, based on what was achieved and not achieved the year before.”
“Oh man, I’m really not cut out for corporate work,” Toni says.
“That all sounded awful to you, didn’t it?”
“A little, yeah.”
“Tell you what, let’s think of this as if we are going to hire someone else to implement it. You’ll still be in the field, trekking all day every day.”
Toni smiles. “Sounds like a plan. Which reminds me, Friday night you promised to go on a hike with me. How does Sunday sound?”
I laugh. “I promised no such thing.”
“Huh, I could have sworn you did.” Toni’s grinning. “Anyway, it would be a good idea for you to experience a guided hike. It would be research for this project. Helping me.”
“I don’t need to go on a hike to help you create a business plan, Toni. Besides, this weekend you will be practicing your presentation so you can blow Greta’s socks off on Monday.”
“Working on a Sunday?”
“You guide on Sundays, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t feel like work.”
“So, you’re saying spending time with me will feel like work?” I tease.
“Spending time with you is the only saving grace to all this work, let me tell you.”
“Come on, you can’t tell me that proving Greta wrong about you isn’t a big motivation.”
“Well, that, too.” Her smile drops a bit. “Um, somehow, Greta realized we’d, you know, and told me to keep it professional.”
“She knows?” Christ. “How did she figure that out?”
“Apparently I was looking at you like you were a Christmas puppy.”
I laugh. Greta Giordani obviously has a dry wit Willa and I haven’t seen yet.
Toni chuckles, but she’s a little red in the face. “Was I?”
“Maybe a little.”
Toni furrows her brows and taps her chin with her finger. “And how did that make you feel?” she says in a breathy, thoughtful voice.
I laugh. I haven’t laughed so much with another woman, besides Willa, in years. “You sound exactly like my therapist.”
Our gazes lock. There is so much electricity between us I’m surprised literal sparks aren’t flying through the air.
“How about we table that question and answer for a few weeks, huh?”
“Only a few weeks?”
“OK, Casanova. Stop. Let’s get to work making your dream a reality.”