“Good.” There was another excruciating silence as Valerie waited for the next round of completely deserved commentary on how badlyshe’d bungled a once-in-a-lifetime experience for the Badgertons. Yet all Roger did was stare at her in the oddest way. She gave her chin a self-conscious swipe, wondering if she’d smeared her lipstick before recalling she hadn’t put any on.
“Please extend my apologies to Ms. Badgerton-Willis,” Valerie finally offered. “She’s called several times.” She left out the legal threats.
Roger rolled his eyes. Was he amused? Impossible, but it seemed as if he’d traveled from the straight road of anger to the thorny winding path of disappointment and had veered off to another emotion she couldn’t identify. “I bet. How old are you?”
“Almost thirty.” She answered automatically before realizing this was a strange question. No doubt he was going to tell her she was too young to run a business. She’d had to deal with men like that when looking for a bank loan to cover her start-up costs.
“What’s your mother’s name?” He looked intent.
“What?” She glanced at Nico, who had become her barometer for this conversation, to see if this was normal for Roger. His expression was the neutral mask of the perfect assistant, so she was on her own. “Why?”
Roger waved his hand impatiently. “Let’s say curiosity.”
Curiosity didn’t give him a right to pry into her private life, but after her mess-up she felt as if she owed him. She doubted he knew her mother, a school vice principal in Mississauga. Badgertons didn’t go to public school. They went to places that had highly waxed natural hardwood floors instead of peeling vinyl, and included the wordAcademyin the name. OrHall. “Anna Peng.”
He seemed to deflate slightly, as if he’d been hoping for a different answer. “Your father?”
“Scott Innis.” The second she answered, she had a sick feeling of what was coming.
“Then you’re mixed. Part Chinese?”
If history was any indication, at this point when she said yes, Roger would tell her that he knew it and could always tell, and about how he’d been to (insert any Asian country here) and found: (a) the people friendly; (b) the food incredible; or (c) the women beautiful. And so friendly.
She felt zero need to allow the conversation to move on to any of those points. “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Badgerton. I’m not in the strongest position here, given what happened with your father’s memorial, but I want to make it clear I owe you a heartfelt apology and a refund. You’ve had the first. The second will be done by noon tomorrow.”
Roger looked startled, but Nico leaned down to whisper in his ear. She rose, then walked to the door and yanked it open. It felt good to take control of something, although her teeth clenched from the confrontation. At least Roger didn’t get defensive or argue, but simply stood, joints cracking, and left. Nico followed, holding her gaze in a way she found disconcerting. She couldn’t read anything from his expression, and although it might be unfair, he’d been made slightly less attractive by his proximity to Roger. He and his formerly pretty eyes could follow his overstepping boss out of her life. She shut the door, then leaned against it to catch her breath. That was done, at least.
She sank until she hit the carpeted floor, then reached up to twist the lock. The last thing she needed was a concussion if they barged in to ask more and possibly ruder questions. Rolling over to lie in the fetal position, she sighed. She was done. Goodbye, au revoir, and adios, Ad Astra.
Hello, bonjour, and hola, bankruptcy.
Five
The next day, a bit before three o’clock, Nico again found himself driving to the Ad Astra office. He was accompanying Roger and was accompanied by a lot of thoughts.
That morning, Roger had popped his head into Nico’s office as he was deleting theFWD: RE: FWD: FWD funny dogsemail from his mother to ask him to book a meeting with Valerie Peng. He was gone before Nico could point out that after the way yesterday’s meeting had ended, Roger might not be on Valerie’s list of favored conversation partners.
But he was good at his job, so if Roger wanted a meeting, a meeting Roger would get. When he called, Valerie’s warm promise to get back to callers within twenty-four hours made it sound like a personal commitment rather than empty corporate verbiage. He left a message, a text, and then an email for good measure, puttingRefund questionin the subject line to make sure she opened it.
It wasn’t until Valerie sent him a brisk reply two hours later that he realized why he’d been on edge as he’d tried to write Roger’s charity-lunch speaking notes.
He was going to see Valerie. Despite dealing with Roger in the aftermath of the Malcolm debacle yesterday, she’d maintained that brightness he’d first noticed and had flared when Roger started asking those god-awful questions. Which, Nico thought in frustration, his boss had refused to explain in the car on the way back to the office. All Roger had said was, “Poor woman. It was a lot of damn bad luck.” He’d paused. “Do you believe in second chances?”
“For what?” Nico asked. “Are you hiring her again?”
“Perhaps.”
That was it. Was a memorial do-over in the works? Nico didn’t like this. He knew everything about Roger, from his shoe size to the amount he spent on subscription television each month, which had decreased dramatically after Nico found a free service that only playedCheersreruns. Realistically, when you made appointments for someone’s annual colonoscopy, it was a reasonable expectation to be kept in the loop, whatever the loop was.
As usual, parking was almost nonexistent, and he drove past Valerie’s office and up and down two streets before finding a spot. Roger squinted at the collection of road signs as Nico killed the engine. “We may or may not be able to park here between the hours of seven to six, Monday to Friday, but possibly for only two hours, and not for the first two weeks of the month from April to November.”
“It’s also a snow route,” said Nico.
“At least it’s summer.” Roger sighed. “God, I hate driving in Toronto.”
Despite Nico’s attempts to turn the conversation to what they were doing, Roger’s rant on urban parking woes took them to Valerie’s door. “We’re here,” he said.
“We are.” Nico made one last attempt. “Why is that, actually?”
