Flash Flood (7 page)

“I hesitate to tell you this, because I don’t want anyone else to know.” She took a deep breath. “I am a private person to a fault.”

“You know I can be trusted, but make sure what you are about to tell me is … a matter that you should tell me. I’m your best friend, Alina, and I want to help you any way I can.”

“I know you are. My mind is racing with a problem I can’t do a thing about. I’m trapped, more like petrified, and I need a friend to help me reason this out.”

Deidre nodded. “You’ve helped me many times since we’ve become friends. Remember when I learned my parents needed to move in with us? You prayed with me and helped me garner the courage to talk to Clay. And remember when the doctor suspected birth defects with little Hadley? You were right there praying and supporting me. I’ll do all I can.”

“Okay.” Alina took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Try this on for size. Ryan Erikson is not a stranger to me. We dated in college. No … not just dated. We were serious. Engaged. And I haven’t seen him since we said good-bye just before graduation.”

Deidre’s face drained of color. “Until he came to Flash?”

“Exactly. You saw him last week before I did. Back then Ryan was devastated with the breakup. I hurt him terribly, and then I sank into severe depression.” She stared into her glass of water, still seeing the hurt look in Ryan’s eyes when she’d told him they couldn’t be together. “I heard he ended up in counseling, but I don’t know that for sure.”

“Did you break up on bad terms? No closure? If that’s too personal, I understand.”

“Deidre, I broke off the relationship. I was frightened about the future. I had Anna’s care to consider, and the prospect of taking on a husband overwhelmed me.” Alina dug her fingers into her palm before reaching for the glass of water. “Other things were involved, too. Things I don’t want to discuss, but it meant leaving Ryan behind.”

“I’m sorry. And to think you have to work with him for the next three months.” Deidre took a sip of her iced tea. “Do you think he still has feelings for you?”

“I have no idea.” Her pulse raced.

Deidre gasped and leaned closer across the table. “Do you have feelings for him?”

Leave it to Deidre to home in on what really bothered her. “That’s a moot point.”

Deidre peered into Alina’s face.

“Can’t get much worse than this, can it?” Alina shrugged. “If I had a better sense of humor, I’d say the situation was comical, even movie material. I vowed never to see the man again. I had to go on. Then six years later, he shows up where I work. I’m assigned to help him during the transition of a buyout and work side by side as though nothing ever happened between us. He believes we can put aside the past for the good of the companies. Then he tells me I don’t have a job after three months.” Alina again reached for her water glass. “I’m not being fair. Ryan is a very compassionate man. He didn’t enjoy giving me that tidbit of information at all. You know, they say confession is good for the soul. Why don’t I feel any better?”

“If this wasn’t so incredibly sad, I’d offer chocolate.”

“Don’t bother. I’d eat the whole box and have nothing to wear.” She looked into her dear friend’s face. “Any advice?”

“None, except I don’t think your feelings for him are a moot point.”

Alina moistened her lips. “Let’s table that discussion.”

“I already know the answer.”

The waitress walked by, and Alina asked for a to-go box. Maybe she could eat the salad for dinner. “It is comforting to know Ryan’s a believer. Neither of us had pledged our lives to God back then. I hope you understand that telling you about him is probably one of the toughest things I’ve ever done.”

“You have my confidence. I wish I could do more than listen.”

Guilt born of self-centeredness attacked Alina, leaving a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I haven’t asked how you’re faring in this mess.”

“I’m fine. If I need to look for employment, Clay can handle the bills for a while. No problem.” She paused. “Is it possible for someone else to work with Ryan? Could I take over?”

“No. Already tried that approach. Besides, Fred asked me to cooperate, and I gave my word. He and Marta mean too much for me to take a selfish stand, and I will not tell either of them about my history with Ryan.”

“Fred might be more understanding than you think.”

“The fact remains that Fred needs to retire, and Flash needs Neon’s expertise for our customers. I know I argued that things were fine, but sooner or later another cable company would put themselves in a position to give better service. Anyway, none of those things matter. I have no choice.” Alina pressed her lips together. “Let’s change the subject, because there are no solutions to the myriad of problems surrounding Ryan and me in our past personal and present business relationship.” She pressed her fingertips against her temples. “I’d cry, but it wouldn’t solve a thing. At least I’m fairly certain life can’t get much worse.”

Tuesday, 7:00 p.m
.

Ryan stepped into his hotel room. His suite boasted highs-peed Internet with a large desk, an upscale kitchenette, a separate living area, a king-size bed, a bath he could have shared with three other guys, and other upgraded amenities. Despite all these conveniences, loneliness had crept over him the moment he left Flash Communications.

Although his job required solitude and a lot of travel, tonight, weariness settled on him more than usual. Over dinner this evening at a less than best restaurant—a tasteless yet colorful meal consisting of baked chicken with a leatherlike coating of cheese, a spinach and lettuce salad with partly frozen tomatoes, and rolls hard enough to level pins in a bowling alley—he toyed with the idea of the promotion in Columbus. At least there he knew where to get a good meal. He could have handled tonight’s food a whole lot more easily if Alina had consented to join him. Perhaps she’d been right. Why put himself through the misery of missing her company?

Yet the idea of phoning her lingered. He could claim it was for business reasons and ask her a few questions or clarify something about today. The idea of asking her to work overtime one night this week when she might be more agreeable to sharing dinner with him wiggled through his mind. Ryan slammed his fist into his palm. Alina would see right through that ploy. She had no desire to be with him; she as much as said so today. He shouldn’t call, wouldn’t call.

He thought about her mother and wondered if they had mended their ragged relationship. Since Alina did not open up easily, he doubted things had changed. He used to believe her mother was the deciding factor in Alina’s choice to break up with him. The older woman voiced her concern about Alina’s choice of boyfriends, saying her daughter needed a man who had more backbone. She also claimed Ryan would leave her for the first pretty face to cross his path. He never understood why the woman didn’t care for him.

I wonder about Anna…
. Thoughts of seeing the whimsical young woman again nudged him. Alina used to think he feigned interest in her mentally challenged twin. When she learned he genuinely wanted to help and make sweet Anna laugh, Alina cried. Ryan remembered holding her outside of a small café near the Ohio State campus while snow fell in huge flakes and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I’ll love you forever,” she’d said.

“And I’ll always be here for you—and Anna.”

“Oh, Ryan. I want to believe you.” She’d sniffed and blinked back the wetness. Her brown eyes had radiated trust and confidence.

“You can.” Then he’d lifted her chin and lightly kissed her lips, brushing away the tears with a gloved finger. “If you don’t stop crying, icicles are going to grow on your cheeks.”

Ryan chased away the memories and tucked all the items back into the part of his heart that he wanted sealed with duct tape. Some memories stay embedded in your heart no matter how hard you try to destroy them.

Thursday, 7:45 a.m
.

Ryan poured a fresh cup of coffee and reached for a packet of creamer. Yesterday had been tolerable with Alina. He figured avoiding him emotionally was her way of handling the stress between them. He wondered if a boyfriend played into her personal life, but she had no pictures perched on her desk, and she had never mentioned a man in any of her conversations. He had to admit he’d listened when she took phone calls, and nothing indicated a significant other.

I am as much in love with her now as I was in college
.

“There he is, the terminator,” a male voice said.

Ryan glanced up to see James leaning against the door of the break room. They were alone, and obviously the foreman saw an opportunity to throw a few bricks. “Since no one else is in here, I gather you’re talking to me.” He stirred his coffee with a little red plastic stick.

“That’s right.”

This guy gave him a whole new perspective on the meaning of patience. He tossed the stir stick into a trash can. “Look,

James—”

“Mr. Ferguson.”

Ryan smiled. “All right, Mr. Ferguson. We got off on the wrong foot.”

“We’re still there. I mean, you’re on the wrong foot. I’m on the side of what is right.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion.” Ryan immediately changed his countenance and threw a gaze aimed to control the situation. “The way I look at it, you have a choice. We can agree you have an attitude problem here and try to work together, or you can head into Fred’s office and tell him I fired you. Which will it be?”

“Before or after I crack your face?”

“That’s entirely up to you.” Ryan leaned against the counter, radiating every bit of confidence he could muster. “I need your knowledge and leadership in this transition, but I don’t put up with animosity. Bad attitudes are contagious. I have no qualms about replacing you.” He picked up his coffee and made his way past James. “You choose. Let me know soon. I understand there are lots of qualified people looking for work these days.”

Fortunately, Ryan’s nose stayed intact.

Thursday, 10:30 a.m
.

Ryan watched Alina struggle with what he thought was a problem with Neon’s software. Why couldn’t she simply ask for help? Since Tuesday, he’d sensed her frustration with the accounting reports he requested. Time was money, and he needed the data
she
was supposed to be gathering. The confrontation with James surfaced and left him agitated.

“How are you doing over there?” He hoped he sounded non-threatening. After the break room incident, his private joke about VWMD—verbal weapons of mass destruction—had taken on new emphasis. Undue pressure with the present circumstances could make the following weeks a challenge, to say the least.

“I’ve done better.” Her gaze appeared to be glued to the screen.

“Do you need help?”

She turned in her chair to face him. “Although you explained the technology and the procedure for these reports, I’m having a difficult time assembling the data. I’m sorry.”

All business
. “No need to apologize. Let me take a look. This can be tricky, especially for one who isn’t familiar with our product. Once you have it, the other reports will be a whiz.”

She stood from her chair, and he seated himself in front of her computer. One glance told him she’d neglected a final configuration to pull up the necessary data. “Right here, Alina. These codes will get you access to the accounting files.”

“Thanks. I thought I’d written down all the steps.” She avoided him and made notes on a notepad beside her mouse. “Does this configuration apply to all of Neon’s financial records?”

“Yes.” Maybe he had bad breath. He reached inside the desk drawer for a peppermint. “Don’t hesitate to ask questions. There’s no point in wasting time and effort when you need answers.”

“I said I thought I had all the instructions before me.”
Testy
. “And I only suggested you ask the next time.”

“I believe I did.”

He inwardly counted to ten. Normally, diplomacy ranked high for him, but obviously James and Alina lowered his tolerance level. “Do you need a break? I’d be glad to get you some coffee.”

She arose from the side chair and walked across the length of the office. “No thanks. I’m quite capable of getting my own coffee, and I don’t need you to patronize me.”