“There is so much movement,” Jasmine continued, moving her hands in the air over the colors. “It’s all over the place. My eye wants to go everywhere at once, but it always comes back to the struggle in the middle. Why Lost and Found?”
Ben was still looking at the canvas. “A soul. One lost soul, searching. Wandering in this corporeal world through a timeless scope. A—“
“Stop right there…” Jasmine held up her hand, “too heavy for a weekend painter. Well, it rocks, so good work.”
“The subject is Krista. I should mention that,” Ben said, turning to watch reactions.
“Krista?” Kate said, leaning closer to the painting.
“He had a dream that he thinks was about my life,” Krista explained.
“Not about your life, but about your current struggle,” Ben clarified.
“Whatever.”
“Lost and Found, huh? Hmm. I can see that,” Jasmine reflected.
“What, that I’m lost, or that I’m found?” Krista put her hands on her hips. This was all tomfoolery in her opinion. All she saw was a really cool blast of color.
“Your brain is lost, that’s for sure,” Kate said, tilting her head as she kept looking at the painting. “I really like it; I can’t stop looking at it, but I don’t think I see the deeper meaning here. And I certainly don’t see anything to do with Krista. But…I agree, it rocks. Good work, Ben.”
“That’s it?” Ben asked.
“What do you want from us?” Kate replied. “We’re stat brats. We’re not brush jockeys.”
“I guess I thought you were more opinionated.”
“About certain things, surely,” Kate said, leading the brigade back to the living room. “HEY!”
Everyone jumped then froze, each in a different squat about ready to sit.
“Speed dating!” Kate boomed.
“No,” Krista said immediately.
“Sure.” Jasmine shrugged.
Ben stayed silent, probably thinking he wasn’t included in Kate’s new big scheme, or maybe not as able to keep up with her quick 180’s.
“YES! Speed dating. We’re all single—or will be soon. We all need a man or woman. Speed dating.”
“Oh! Jasmine,” Ben said with a smile. “I wasn’t aware you were a lesbian. You know, I have a good friend that—“
Ben was cut off by Kate cackling. When the laughter died down, Jasmine said, “I like men, Ben. Kate will be dragging you along with us.”
“Oh, no,” Ben said, sitting back with a polite shake of his head. “Thank you, Kate. But no. That isn’t really my scene.”
“Ben, come off it,” Jasmine exclaimed. “It isn’t any of our scenes. It’s another one of Kate’s great ideas—“
“It is a great idea!” Kate threw in.
“--and she’ll keep bugging us until we give in. Don’t try to fight it.”
Ben looked at Krista, close to panic.
“Sorry, Ben.” Krista shook her head. “Jasmine’s right. We’ll all have to go.”
“You guys, this is a great idea!”
Kate was drowned out by collective groans.
Chapter Four
The dating game totally sucked! Krista hated it.
The other thing she hated was one night stands. But in an attempt to sink or swim, she’d had a bunch of tequila Saturday night and brought a friend of Jasmine’s home. She was rewarded with sloppy kisses, one brief panic attack, and a bad lay. She wasn’t even remotely satisfied.
It was necessary, though. It was the first sexual encounter since Jim, and another step away from his hold over her. She’d confronted some of her fears, and she had to be honest, doing it drunk and with a man you would never see again if you didn’t want to—which she didn’t, since she was mortified—was a bonus. But that was the weekend. Now, Monday morning, she felt a little trashy and a lot insecure. This return to powerful, blasé Krista would take some getting used to.
Krista dropped her stuff under her cube desk, grabbed her mug and trudged into the break room, not caring if she saw Sean or Satan. Preferably didn’t want to see God, though—probably couldn’t face that guy just yet. As she passed through the door, she ran straight into someone and bounced off.
Instincts said to brace herself with her hands outstretched. Memory said do no such thing. To heroically protect her mug, she let her face take the fall, slamming her cheek into wall. Before she could rebound and head toward the floor, probably continuing her heroic rampage and breaking her face this time, she was grabbed from behind.
“Jesus, Krista, are you all right?” Sean held her for a brief second, cradling her body within his, before gently easing her to the wall so she could settle in a soft landing.
All she could think to say, as her brain started to buzz with the delicious proximity, was “Please don’t say the Lord’s name in vain around me right now. He might throw a thunderbolt.”
A confused smile blossomed on Sean’s face. “Did you not see the wall coming?”
“You’d feel pretty stupid right now if I was a clumsy girl and often used my face as a doorstop.”
“I might, yes. But it’d still be funny.”
“Probably.”
“You’re not a clumsy girl, then?” Sean was leaning close, suffocating her pleasantly with that special elixir of his. His body was so warm, and large. He was wearing a dress shirt today, which was snug around his chest and biceps. He was filled out in all the right places.
If she didn’t put some distance between them, she was liable to do something crazy, like grab his crotch. “Please step away, you are using all my air.”
Sean chuckled, putting a hand to the wall by her face and easing himself backward. “Seriously, though, all joking aside, are you okay? Your cheek bone is turning red.”
“Does it still look like the other one?”
Sean’s eyes went back and forth across her face, comparing. Only twice did they dip to her lips, probably checking for a fat lip. “It is red with scuff marks, so no. But it is still shaped like the other one, so not broken.”
“Well, then, when people ask how I got bruised, I’ll say you hit me.” A shock of terror stopped her heart. A memory flash of a large fist toward her face blotted out her vision.
It wasn’t funny yet. It probably wouldn’t ever be funny again.
She lost her humor and changed gears quickly. “Anyway, I need coffee. I had a weekend.”
~*~*~*~
Sean watched as Krista’s face shut down. Sarcastic comicality dissolved into fear, then resignation. It had been something she said…
As he replayed the scene, it dawned on him. Cold fingers clutched his gut.
“I’d never hit a woman, Krista,” he said quietly.
Her step hitched and her body bowed a little. She glanced at him, mouse-like.
“It’s not all about you, McAdams. Get a grip,” she said in a wispy voice playing at being strong. She took a deep breath, trying to claw her way back from whatever dark place that comment had taken her. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. She’d been hit. By a man. A father, maybe. Or an ex-boyfriend.
Without warning, something deep and forgotten raised its ugly head. Anger boiled, rising to the surface. Seeing her hurting, afraid…he could barely breathe for wanting to ease that pain. He wanted to meet that guy, whoever it was, and put some manners into him. Make him pay for what he’d done to her; make sure that guy didn’t ever to it to another woman again.
“Does no one in this company know how to make coffee?” she was saying, reaching for an open bag.
Sean pulled himself together, took his own deep breath. Stilled his overwhelming emotions and tucked them back inside.
“So, you had a weekend?” he asked, willing humor to cover the uncomfortable place he found himself.
“Eh! I went speed dating, of all things.” Krista put her head in her hand. “Kate’s idea.”
“And Kate is…your friend?”
Krista turned and gave him a flat stare, her eyes on fire. “Bloody good show, Captain Obvious, you’ve solved the riddle.”
The dark cloud over their moods dissolved instantly. Sean barked out laughter, unused to seeing this side of the nerdy research girl. He wondered if anyone in the company had. He bet not. He would’ve heard about it. They liked to gossip about her as much as him.
“And how’d it go?”
“Well, I met fifty wankers…” She ripped the bag open. “No, that’s not true. I met about forty-five wankers, and five decent fellows. One I quite liked. The others were door stops.”
She scooped the coffee into the machine and hit the “Start” button. She took her full cup and crossed to the creamer station. Sean took up her position, but instead of using the last dredges in the pot, something he usually would have done to move his morning along, he poured it down the sink and waited for the next batch in order to hang around longer.
“So you met five keepers, then. That’s not bad,” Sean said as he lounged against the wall.
Creamer in hand, Krista lounged as well. “Not keepers, no. Five guys that weren’t awful. One keeper. Just one. And he--”
“Oh, Sean!”
Sean and Krista both looked toward the entrance of the break room where the worst possible gossip was hurrying forward.
“Good morning, Cindy,” Sean muttered, hating the interruption.
She smiled at him and batted her eyelashes, late on noticing Krista. When she did, she looked at the other woman, then back to him, suggestion taking over her features. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
“Well that depends. Are you planning to steal all the creamer?” Krista asked with a voice that sounded like honey poured over razor blades.
Cindy made a sound like, “Wwu..?”
Krista continued to stare at her like she’d asked a logical question.
“Oh, well…Uh, no, of course not!”
“Then no, you won’t be interrupting my morning ritual of making coffee. Anyway, Sean, like I was saying—or are you bored?”
“Fire away.”
“Right.” Krista got a sugar packet and shook it within an inch of its life. “Like I was saying, I liked one of the five, right? And guess which one of the five didn’t call?”
Sean raised his eyebrows.
“Exactly. The one I liked. He was hot and laid back and cool. He didn’t call. Of course he didn’t. But the others—oh they called lots. I had to return a call on each one to get them to stop freaking calling me! So then I tried to say I didn’t want to go out with them, right? And they asked why I gave them the envelope. It was a good point, so now I have freaking four dates in the next two weeks with guys I don’t want to talk to. Did I mention I hate first dates?”
Krista stared accusingly at Sean.
“Well, dear, how will you ever meet someone? You’re single, I take it?”
Krista looked at Cindy with that flat stare again, daring her to interrupt their conversation one more time. After Cindy was fidgeting nervously, Krista turned back to Sean.
“So now I have to go on these dates, sit at some restaurant awkwardly, listen to them as they nonstop talk about their lives, and pretend to be having a good time because I’m too nice to say how uncomfortable I am! Urg!”
“Then why did you go in the first place?” Sean asked, inwardly smiling at Cindy’s discomfort.
“You try saying no to Kate! But I did meet Paul. He was at the bar directly after to shoot the shi—ah, to chat. He didn’t do the speed dating thing, but his friends did, so that’s how we all kinda met. Kate and Jasmine wanted to hook up with the friends…“
“Together?” Cindy exclaimed.
“Cindy, my dear, you watch too much p**n ,” Krista said as she stirred her coffee. “Anyway, he’s okay. Paul, I mean. Really sweet. I should’ve just hung out with him that evening, but we had to rush off to meet Jasmine’s friends—” She grimaced, sighed and shook her head all at the same time. “Ah life, it sucks, yes? Well, anyway, I’ll catch you all later.”
Without further ado, Krista trudged out with her coffee in hand and her cheek bright red.
“What’s got into her?” Cindy asked indignantly.
“She had a bad weekend,” Sean explained, still feeling as light as a balloon. If he didn’t already want her, he would now. He loved sassy women.
When Sean got back to his desk, he had an email from Krista.
Hi Sean,
What can I say, I’m an a-hole. Sorry about the tirade. Always be wary when I’ve had a bad weekend full of tequila and bad lays. I can be a cranky S.O.B.
P.S. I don’t plan to apologize to Cindy. I hope you did damage control. You’re good at that sort of thing.
Bad lays? So she wasn’t so saintly after all.
The next email was from John. Reading it with a hard-on just felt wrong.
~*~*~*~
Krista was working on her first real project, which would turn into her first real, honest-to-God presentation. She’d been at it for a half hour and already come up against a brick wall.
Her boss had emailed her the subject, which was a type of sports drink, and noted that if she had any questions, she should “go ahead and ask sales directly.” In other words, don’t bother him; it’s none of his business.
Not afraid of forging ahead without a support system, or dead weight, depending on how one looked at it, the first thing she’d done was research sports drinks in the company’s giant database. That yielded a ton of information, way too much for any one presentation. The topic had to be narrowed down somewhat. And while she had read the email 800 times, there was nothing in it to help.