22. Trish
TRISH
Youth. It was wasted on the young.
If I’d known at age thirty what I knew more than ten years later—well, I’d be richer.
But so it goes.
Life was for the learning and the loving.
That was where I came in today.
Kate was my top employee, a vice president at my firm. And she’d been in a funk since Sunday at our lunch.
Oh, sure, she thought she was expert at covering it up. She’d flash a smile, pump a fist, give an appropriate response when I asked how she was.
But with my forty-plus years came twenty-twenty hindsight. Something was amiss, and I had a hunch what it was.
“Kate . . .” I spoke as if she were my younger sister—that was how I thought of her. “I’d expected you to be bouncing off the walls in excitement.”
Her brow knit, then she quickly unknit it. “Of course. I’m thrilled about Sin City Escorts.”
I shook my head. “No. I meant paying off the debt.”
She swallowed, trying to school her expression. “Excuse me?”
I smiled sympathetically. “I’ve heard some of your conversations with the banks.”
“You have?” Guilt shadowed her face as she ducked her chin.
I waved a hand airily. “Don’t feel bad. It happens to many people. I’m just glad you’re able to move on.” I took a beat, then confirmed, “Were you able to move on?”
She nodded. “Yes, the bonus helped. Thank you, Trish.”
I strode across her office and sat in the chair across from her. “I’m glad you put the money to good use. I could tell you were anxious to get it paid off.”
Kate chewed on the corner of her lip for a moment, perhaps putting two and two together. “Did you offer me bonuses so that I could pay it off sooner?”
With an impish grin, I shrugged. “I didn’t give you anything you didn’t deserve.”
“Trish,” she said softly. “You didn’t have to.”
I swung my high-heeled foot back and forth. “Kate, I don’t do anything because I have to. I do things because I want to. And now I want to give you a piece of advice.”
“Okay,” she said with a tentative laugh.
I drew a steadying breath. “I have a hunch this little funk you’re in . . .” I gestured to the space around her to illustrate the cloud of annoyance that followed her like a perfume. “You could resolve it easily.”
“What do you mean?”
But of course, she had no idea I knew what she’d been up to this weekend.
Nor did I ever want her to know that I’d played a part.
But I had. At times, I’d arranged and nudged and acted as a fairy godmother. And a fairy had to do what a fairy had to do.
The lovely little secret of Las Vegas was this —powerful women populated the city in strategic places, and we all played our part in making dreams come true, sometimes for ourselves and sometimes for others.
Some people believed this city was a man’s world, and in many ways, Vegas still was.
But in other respects, this city catered to women. It was run by women. Women were rising up.
If I were the type to call it “girl power,” well, I’d say it. But I didn’t believe women should be called girls. I did believe in woman power though.
That was why I’d ensured Kate had opportunities to earn her way out of her money troubles sooner rather than later.
That was the extent of my role—well, along with my ever-so-subtle suggestion that she bring a friend along on her observation adventure. As her employer, I couldn’t very well tell her to shag a man.
But I had powerful friends willing to help me help Kate. Friends who knew that Kate had her eye on someone. Other friends had helped too—some more than others—but some secrets couldn’t be revealed.
Yes, I used my network to my advantage. Not sorry.
But now Kate was in a funk again. I didn’t want her to think she had to be with a man.
I was perfectly content being single. I didn’t need a man or a woman to complete me.
But she was clearly miserable without this particular man, which called for my intervention.
Perhaps my stubborn vice president needed a gentle kick from my Louboutins.
“Kate,” I said in a brook-no-nonsense tone, “it occurred to me that a woman who accomplished two major goals yesterday shouldn’t give up on what she wants from a certain friend without a fight.
” I rose and smoothed my skirt with a flick, giving her an encouraging but implacable smile.
“Now, why don’t you think of that while you go and sort out your plan of action? ”
Then I walked out, leaving her with something to chew on.
Life advice. How I loved giving it.