Flash Flood (4 page)

An ache crept into her heart. “I’m supposed to help you make a smooth transition, cooperate in all facets of this buyout, and in return I’m relieved of my job? That’s a wonderful thank-you.”

“Neon has many opportunities in locations all over the country for someone with your abilities. I work out of Silicon Valley in California.”

Why does he have to act so calm?
“It is impossible for me to relocate with Anna.” She stood and gathered up her laptop, purse, and notepad. “Get someone else to help you. I’d rather quit or get fired.”

“By staying you’ll receive a good severance.”

The silence between them seemed to punctuate his words. She had no choice. Ryan knew it. She blinked and attempted to swallow her hostility. “Whatever happened to being rewarded for company loyalty and business ethics? Do you and Fred think that letting people go will make Neon a better organization?”

“Fred has nothing to do with this. He cares about you very much and has a tremendous amount of respect for what you’ve done with Flash. It’s unfortunate, I agree. I will be glad to write you a letter of recommendation when our work is finished, possibly sooner.”

Bribery
. “You know I have no choice.” She meant to cover the caustic emotions but failed.

“We always have a choice.”

Was he referring to what she did six years ago? She could not, would not discuss it. “All right, Ryan. You win. And I’ll take you up on that letter of recommendation. When do we begin?”

“Tuesday morning. I’ll move into your office later on this afternoon. I have to be at the Columbus office on Monday.”

“Are you taking my desk, or do I get to work at my own?” She realized her words were laced with venom, but she couldn’t help it.

Ryan peered out the window, then back to her. “I have a question for you. Would you talk to any other executive the way you’re speaking to me? I understand that our differences and our history play into all of this, but I don’t appreciate your hostility.”

Alina clenched her fists to stop her reaction to his words. “My hostility? What about my livelihood? I could use a little sensitivity here.”

“What do you suggest? I could have sent you a memo about your position or have the home office mail you a certified letter in about two months. But that isn’t the way Neon or I conduct business.”

The sting hit Alina as sharply as if Ryan had slapped her. She’d have preferred it. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

Friday, 5:45 p.m
.

Alina managed to work the rest of the day without another serious encounter with Ryan. She’d behaved horribly this morning—nothing short of crass—and the memory of it twisted at her insides. She should have asked about his family and thanked him for asking about Anna. She should have plastered a smile on her face and offered her utmost cooperation. Instead she made a fool of herself.

Strange, Ryan asked to see Anna after all this time. But he’d always been good with her.

Once at her townhouse, Alina kicked off her shoes and brewed a cup of peach herbal tea. Normally she made decaf coffee on chilly evenings, but tonight she needed to fill herself with something healthful—maybe it would counteract the poison she’d spewed at Ryan. A part of her wanted to call him and make sure the working relationship was all right. Anger toward Neon nudged at her, but she’d have to hide it.

While the peach tea lingered in her senses, her mind spun, and she moved from room to room, adjusting drapes, running her finger along the moisture on the windowsills, and staring out into the darkening shadows. From her bedroom, she studied a beech tree outside her window. Years ago, Ryan had carved their initials into a tree just like this. They’d been at a park when he declared his love. In his exuberance, he made sure their initials would last for eternity in the smooth bark of the tree. They were juniors in college then. Odd, she recalled her camel-colored wool coat and the red hat and scarf she wore that day. And she could picture Ryan in his leather jacket that always seemed to capture his cologne. Yes, she remembered it too well.

As the evening wore on, Alina found it difficult to concentrate on anything. Tomorrow she’d see Anna. The gloom of winter still threatened the days, but Anna loved to be outdoors. As long as there was no ice, Alina could push Anna’s wheelchair into the patio area.

Finally she gave in to the overwhelming urge to relive her past with Ryan. On the top shelf of her closet sat a cardboard box filled with memorabilia from her college days. She stared at it for a long time before retrieving it. Once the box rested in her arms, she blew off the dust and carried it to her bed. Alina hesitated. Would this be like opening Pandora’s box? Surely not. She’d kept these things to remind her of a gentle man, a beautiful love. Pressing her lips tightly together, she lifted the lid.

Dried yellow mums lay strewn across a mound of treasures and frosted the memories of each festive occasion. Alina read little notes and sweet cards that made her laugh and cry—each one tugging at her heart and filling her with regret for the stance she had taken. A purple giraffe reminded her of a carnival and stolen kisses on a Ferris wheel. A playbill from
Phantom of the Opera
brought back her twentieth birthday.

They’d passed on dinner because the tickets had cost so much. Movie stubs. Napkins. A small heart-shaped candy box. She picked up a photograph taken of them with friends. They were blissfully in love then … but it wouldn’t have lasted. Yes, she had opened Pandora’s box.

Saturday, 3:30 a.m
.

Ryan yawned then groaned as he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Friday had been a long day, brimming with antagonism from some of Flash Communications’ employees. He’d had a deep, sinking feeling that Alina and the installation foreman, James Ferguson, had planned a get-together, and it wouldn’t be pleasant. James had cornered him Friday evening when both men left Flash at the same time.

“Neon needs to know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of bad news,” James had said.

“I understand your frustration.”

Two women from the office staff walked by and echoed “Good night” to the two men.

As soon as they passed, James lifted a brow. “Better watch out. Your uppity nose might get broke before this is all over. Good people don’t like losing their jobs.”

“I know how to be careful, and I don’t appreciate being threatened.” Ryan had been down this road before.

“I’m not threatening anybody. I’m merely making an observation. Besides, it looks to me like Neon’s taking advantage of a sick old man.”

Ryan shook his head and walked away. Too many tempers had erupted today, and he wasn’t in the mood to play into the hands of one more disgruntled employee.

Now, as Ryan lay awake, he stared at the ceiling and relived the entire day. A nightmare had awakened him—the second one tonight dealing with Flash Communications. His subconscious must be working overtime. This time a contract on his life had Ryan on the run while picketers from Flash walked around his hotel carrying protest signs. Alina and James led the group.
I’ve been doing this too long
. The thought of all those people at Flash planning his demise made his cold hotel room appear cozy.

He loved weaving other companies into Neon’s conglomerate. The process compared to a puzzle, and he found immense satisfaction in making sure the pieces fit. Yet downsizing employees left a nasty taste in his mouth. If left to Ryan, none of those people would lose their jobs, but no one at Neon ever asked how he felt.

His thoughts shifted to a career question for which he had no answer. A possible promotion had been mentioned before he took the assignment in Radisen: a vice president position in Columbus, no travel, and a substantial pay increase. Yet Ryan dragged his feet, and he really didn’t know why. His family lived there … old friends … roots. A picture of Alina filled his mind.

Memories of college days moved to the forefront of his mind, especially those times when he’d teased Alina about her many causes: everything from saving trees to women’s rights. Then he learned about her twin sister, Anna. Together they visited the mentally challenged girl. And together they paid regular calls to Alina and Anna’s widowed mother, a peculiar sort of woman who, in Ryan’s opinion, criticized Alina far too often. Amid the family dysfunction, he saw Alina’s heart and fell in love with her. If she hadn’t broken the engagement, he’d be married to her today and not reminiscing about the love left behind.

Odd, how the sound of Alina’s voice still moved him to think about spending the rest of his life with her—although on Friday, she evidently had an impenetrable wall built around her. If they’d had closure and she’d explained why the relationship wouldn’t work, he might not feel this old pull at his heart. No one had ever taken Alina’s place. She had tried to return the engagement ring, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it.

He’d tried for years to forget her and thought he’d put it all behind him until yesterday. The problems between them could have been worked out, if only he’d known the source of them. Ryan allowed the sadness and regret to wash over him until a twinge of anger took their place.

Another man might enjoy the irony of it all. She’d treated him badly, and now he could seek his revenge by relieving her of her employ. Ryan found no satisfaction in that arrangement. Perhaps while working side by side with her over the next three months, he’d find out why she broke off their relationship. Ryan saw her heart for Flash Communications’ employees; she was a real crusader. Their needs were important to her. No doubt, she’d fight him all the way to day ninety over the transition. He expected no less.
My Joan of Arc
.

Finally sleep enveloped his thoughts and pulled him from his reflections about Alina. Ryan welcomed the rest, for he’d wrestled with the same questions for far too long.

Saturday, 8:00 p.m
.

Working in the hotel room, Ryan realized his stomach shouted for dinner. He’d been so busy putting together correspondence to Neon that time had slipped right by. Shoving back from his desk, he contemplated where he could get a good meal on a Saturday night without waiting an hour for a table.

“I should have gotten something to go earlier,” he said to the computer screen. Traveling had driven him to the eccentric level, or he’d officially become his father since he was talking to himself, giving voice to the older man’s admonitions.

He tucked in his shirt, ran a comb through his hair, and snatched up his cell phone, wallet, a book about living life as a Christian man, and his keys. Maybe he needed larger pockets or a purse. He chuckled. Now he’d become his mother: He was laughing at his own jokes.

After conferring with the young woman at the hotel desk for restaurant recommendations and receiving no help, Ryan drove his SUV to a popular chain restaurant. As he expected, the wait for a table was forty-five minutes, unless he wanted to sit at the bar. The hostess handed him a beeper, and he slid onto a bench outside the building with his book. An evening chill whipped about him, but he detested the noise inside while reading.
“What Happens When the Past Becomes the Present.” That should be a good chapter, one I could have written
. The subtitle indicated the problems that occurred when a Christian man faced what he’d done as a non-Christian. Oh yeah, he needed this chapter in a bad way. He immersed his attention in the book—until he heard his name.

“Well, look who’s here,” the familiar, hostile voice said. James Ferguson, the foreman at Flash, planted his feet in front of Ryan.

Ryan glanced up, pausing briefly at the hole just above the knee of a pair of dirty jeans. His gaze trailed up to the man’s smirk. “Hey, James. Good evening.”

James chewed on a wad of gum. “It had the makings of a good one until you got here.”

I’m not in the mood for this
. Ryan turned his attention back to the book.

“I’m talking to you.”

Ryan closed his book. What had he read in the last ten minutes that might help him with this angry man standing before him? He stared down at the rough surface of the walkway and prayed for guidance. God loved James the same as He did for Ryan. So what should he say to lower James’s hot temper while displaying strength and not weakness? Running sounded like the easy way out, but sooner or later Ryan had to deal with James and settle the matter between them.