About Face (Love in the Suburbs Book 1) Page 11

  He sounds genuinely confused. Well, let me make some things clear to him. “That’s the whole point. You didn’t do anything. Your employee was making blatantly offensive remarks to another employee and you did nothing.”

  “Did nothing? I fired her yesterday afternoon.”

  I open my mouth to continue yelling at him when the meaning of his words hit me. “You fired her?”

  “Damn straight, I did. I don’t tolerate my employees speaking in such a manner. Especially a temporary employee.”

  “Really? Just like that?” I’m flabbergasted. And trying not to shout in glee.

  “Well… there were more problems with her and her work ethic. Jackson has been hounding me about her from day one, but after yesterday, every single one of your team members came in to complain.”

  Your. He said your, as if I’m still a team leader and returning to work. “Um… thank you?”

  “Now, get your head straight, so you can come back to me next week and tell me you want to consult on the Just You contract.” He hangs up without waiting for my reply.

  I stare at the phone for a minute before I finally set it down. I did not expect his response at all. Man, Brodie is going to gloat. My phone pings, and I have to force myself to look at it. I’ve had enough surprises for one morning, thank you very much.

  OMG!!!! You slept with Brodie! Yep, should not have picked up the phone. I hasten to correct Shelby’s unfortunately incorrect assumption.

  What? No! Hospital gossip chain got it all wrong!

  Then why is there a picture of you in his kitchen looking like you’ve spent the night getting jiggy?

  Wait! What picture? I narrow my eyes. How does she know what Brodie’s kitchen looks like, anyway?

  I tap my finger against my phone as I wait for her reply. Finally, there’s another ping indicating she’s sent me the picture. I immediately tap the icon to download it. I gasp when I realize it’s one of the pictures from this morning. Not the one showing my scar, which is good because I’d have to kill Brodie if he posted that picture. It would be a shame to rid the world of his hotness but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I take a minute to admire the picture Brodie did post. It is kind of cute. Brodie looks smoking, of course. He’s holding me tight while smiling from ear to ear. I’m curled into him. Cuteness aside I’m not ready for the world to start gossiping about our relationship.

  Now tell me “nothing happened”

  Nothing happened.

  Liar.

  Nothing happened. Pinkie swear.

  Darn…

  Well, something happened.

  Oooooh, do tell.

  Brodie saw my scar.

  That tiny thing?

  Easy for you to say.

  Um, freak, have you seen me?

  *Rolls eyes*

  How did Brodie respond?

  *Snort* He thinks I’m beautiful.

  You are beautiful. Frankly, it’s annoying.

  I got nothing. Shelby’s not finished.

  Brodie is the most kind and honest man I know. If he says you’re beautiful, he means it. It’s time to move on. Get over your stupid scar and move on. Move TF on. Gotta go.

  Easier said than done. I can’t accept having a huge scar on my right cheek all of sudden. I make my way to the bathroom and stare into the mirror. With no bandage on, my scar is front and center for me to see. I grit my teeth and force myself to study the marred skin.

  The scar starts directly below the outside of my right eye and curves inward for about an inch and a half stopping right smack dab in the middle of my right cheek. I can admit the wound has healed nicely. The swelling and bumpiness of the wound is nearly gone. You can’t even tell how many stitches were used to hold my skin together.

  What would I think if I saw another woman with this scar on their face? Would I think she’s deformed? Such a nasty word. I would never call anyone deformed – no matter what. Maybe I should give myself a break. I lean over the vanity and stare at the scar up close. Nope. Not ready to give myself a break.

  Chapter 22

  A lady should always be honest but never rude.

  “You’re too late. She’s taken now,” Grandma announces as she opens the door for Jackson.

  “Grandma,” I hiss. “Jackson and I work together.”

  She shrugs and walks towards the kitchen. “If you change your mind and want to try it out with this one, I put condoms in your bathroom.” My mouth drops open at her announcement. How dare she?

  I smile at Jackson despite my flaming red face and pretend everything’s normal and my grandmother didn’t just tell us where to find protection if we want to have sex. “What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  Yippee! My four most favorite words in the universe. “Come on in.” I motion him towards the living room.

  Jackson starts in before we can make it to the living room. “You’re seeing your physical therapist now,” he sneers.

  I stare at the ceiling and pray for calm. I could kill Brodie for posting our picture on Facebook. What was he thinking? I read him the riot act about it yesterday. His response? I have a beautiful woman in my life. Of course, I want to show her off. Naturally, I melted, and my anger flew out the window. I didn’t expect him to take my response as an excuse to change his Facebook status to ‘in a relationship’ with Francis McMillan. That necessitated another angry call. When I argued we aren’t in a relationship, he explained dating is a relationship and then told me he had to get back to work. I’m pretty sure he turned his phone off at that point as my further texts went unanswered. On the plus side, Grandma is super excited and isn’t calling any of her friends to ask if they have single grandsons.

  I take a seat and motion for him to join me. “Yes, Brodie and I are dating. But you know this. We talked about it last time you were here.” Although I consider Jackson a friend as well as a co-worker, we’ve never talked about my relationships before. To be honest, there’s never been much to talk about. I’ve been on about a million first dates, but I haven’t had any serious relationships for the past few years while I’ve focused on my career.

  “You made it sound like it wasn’t serious.” He grunts. “A physical therapist, Frankie? Really?”

  “Hey!” I bristle at his dismissive tone. “Brodie is a nice man, and there’s nothing wrong with a physical therapist. He’s highly educated and it’s a good career.”

  “Shit.” Jackson rubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry.”

  “What’s wrong with you? Are you and Debbie having problems?” The idea of them having problems is difficult to believe. The two are utterly adorable.

  “Debbie’s history.”

  “What?” I gasp. “But you’re engaged. The wedding’s a few months away.”

  He shrugs. “Not anymore.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I do! But he doesn’t give me a chance to air any of my gazillion questions. “Is this Brodie thing because of your accident?”

  Brodie thing? He makes it sound illicit. I decide to ignore his question. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Jesus, Frankie, don’t you get it?” Obviously not. “I’m into you.”

  My mouth drops open. Into me? Since when? How did I not know? “I’m sorry.” I start to explain how I never saw him that way. It doesn’t have to do with age or experience or anything. I just never saw him in any way other than as a good friend.

  “You don’t have to say it.” He stares at his shoes. “I know you don’t think of me as anything other than your employee.”

  I snort. “If you were a mere employee, I would have kicked your ass out of here when you opened your mouth and badmouthed Brodie.”

  Shelby waltzes in. Her face is flushed, and her smile is brittle. “Everything okay?” I ask her.

  “What are you doing here?” Jackson demands of her.

  “What the hell, Jackson? She’s my friend.” Shelby plops down on the s
ofa, but not before she sneers at Jackson who glares at her before turning back to me.

  Jackson decides to ignore her and asks me, “Anyway, did you hear about Tara?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I talked to Devon yesterday.”

  “Have you made your mind up about the Just You contract?”

  “What contract?” Shelby asks. Considering her obsession with my relationship with Brodie, it’s no wonder I forgot to mention my meeting with Devon to her.

  “My firm offered me a consultancy agreement to work on the Just You contract.”

  “Awesome!” She fist pumps. “Your first client.”

  I raise my hands to slow her excitement down. “What are you talking about? Just You isn’t my client. They are a client of the firm.”

  She shrugs. “Sounds like Just You could be your first client when you start your own marketing firm.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Jackson says. “Just You is gagging to work with you. They would be a great client to start our new firm with.”

  “Our?”

  “Yeah,” he nods. “I’ve got no reason to stay in the city anymore.” Oh damn, no wonder he’s been pushing me to start up in the suburbs. He’s trying to escape Debbie and the city in which she lives. The break-up must have been bad. What am I thinking? Of course, it was. You don’t end an engagement a few months before the wedding unless something is seriously wrong. My curiosity is piqued, but I let it go – for now. “And you’ve got a reason to stay in the suburbs now.”

  “Boy, does she ever.” Shelby fans her face. “Brodie is a beefy beefcake!”

  I scowl in her direction. I don’t want to rub my relationship in Jackson’s face. Not after he just revealed he’d been holding a candle for me. Oh god, he didn’t break it off with Debbie because of me, did he? Wow. Where did that completely selfish thought come from? Of course, he didn’t break it off with his fiancée for me.

  “Pint-sized may have a point.”

  “Hey! Who you calling pint-sized?” Shelby stands and glares down at Jackson. Even standing when he’s sitting, she’s barely taller than him.

  Jackson ignores Shelby’s outburst. “I’m certain you could convince Just You to be your first client. They practically demanded Devon bring you back from medical leave.”

  No can do. “I’ve got a non-compete clause in my contract. And I’m not ready to start my own firm.”

  “Why not?” Jackson pushes. “You work almost completely autonomously from Devon anyway. He gives you projects and lets you run with them. You don’t need the firm.”

  Shelby plops back down on the sofa. “I like this idea.”

  I glare at Shelby and Jackson teaming up on me. Didn’t they hate each other two minutes ago?

  “At least promise you’ll think about it,” Shelby continues to push. “You could do your own thing. Not have to worry about a boss. You certainly wouldn’t have to worry about another bitch – aka Tara – showing up and trying to steal your job.”

  She may have a point, but, “There’s a lot to starting your own company.”

  “This is where I come in,” Jackson points out.

  “Yeah,” Shelby nods. “Pretty boy may be good for something after all.”

  Jackson sneers and I hold up my hands. “Stop it you two. We’re not in kindergarten.”

  “I need to get going anyway.” Jackson stands and walks to my chair. He hesitates before giving me a kiss on my cheek and then striding out of the room.

  Shelby stands as well. “I better get back to work.”

  “Wait!” I shout before she can leave. “Is there a reason you stopped by? I mean, you’re welcome to stop by any time, but—”

  “No reason. I just came to check on you.” She’s at the door before she looks at me over her shoulder and announces, “By the way, you’re not wearing a bandage.”

  I gasp. No way. I place my palm on my cheek and sure enough, no bandage. Jackson didn’t say a word. Why didn’t he mention it?

  “Maybe because it’s not a big deal.” I swivel to see Grandma standing in the door Shelby just vacated. “Baby girl, you’re still beautiful.” She doesn’t wait for a response before leaving.

  Of course, Grandma thinks I’m beautiful. If I looked like the wicked witch, complete with humongous hairy moles on my nose and cheek, she’d still think I was beautiful. But my friends and family aren’t the people I’m worried about seeing me at my worst. They’ve already seen me at my worst. I was a complete and utter wreck after the accident. No, it’s the strangers who stare at the scarred freak I’m terrified of.

  Chapter 23

  A lady is never confrontational.

  When the doorbell rings the next day, the first thing I do is check I have my bandage on. I won’t be repeating yesterday’s disaster. A little voice inside my head tries to tell me it wasn’t a disaster. After all, Jackson didn’t stare in disgust at me. In fact, he confessed he was ‘into me’ while apparently staring at my scar. I mentally slap the shit out of the annoying little voice and shove it into the furthest recess of my mind before going to answer the door.

  My mouth drops open when I see Suzanne, Becky, and Bailey standing on the front porch. Without thinking, my hand flies to my cheek to ensure my scar is covered. Phew. The bandage didn’t miraculously disappear in the past thirty seconds. “What are you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to greet your girls?” Becky asks.

  I bite my tongue. My girls haven’t exactly been supportive since my accident. I’ve hardly heard a peep from them at all. How much bother is it to send a message or two checking on me?

  Grandma comes bustling into the hallway from the kitchen. “Who’s here?” she shouts before her eyes land on the three women. Her face falls. Was she expecting someone else? “Let them in, Francis. I’ll go make you some snacks.”

  “Come in.”

  I wait until we’re seated in the living room before repeating my question. “What brings you three out to the suburbs today?”

  “You’re still on the crutches?” Suzanne asks instead of answering my question.

  If she picked up the phone and dialed my number, she’d know I’m still walking with crutches. Do they not realize how bad my accident was? I’m lucky I have my leg at all. Before I have a chance to open my mouth and say something I’m probably going to regret, Grandma arrives. She’s carrying a tray piled high with cookies and milk. I reach forward and grab a chocolate chip cookie as well as a glass of chocolate milk.

  “Maybe you should hold off on the cookies. Otherwise, your new man might drop you when you get fat,” Becky comments.

  Aha! Mystery as to why they’re here solved. They saw the picture Brodie posted on Facebook and rushed down here to stick their noses into my love life. I refuse to allow her words to bother me. “Brodie likes me just the way I am.” Or at least he claims to. Not sure if I believe him.

  Becky’s eyes latch onto my bandage. “Must be nice to fish in a small pond.” My mouth gapes open. How dare she imply Brodie is only with me because there isn’t much choice in the suburbs. We might not be in the city, but there are still 150,000 people living here. That’s a whole lot of fish.

  “These cookies are delicious,” Bailey says before I have a chance to figure out how to respond to Becky’s bitchiness. I smile at her, and she winks.

  Becky and Suzanne stare at the cookies and milk as if they are offended by the mere sight of such a large amount of calories. They would be. They are both super slender and constantly dieting to ensure they stay slim. I can’t fault them. I was exactly the same until I ended up staying with Grandma and her cooking. No one has enough willpower to withstand Grandma’s cooking day after day. Not that I’ve tried very hard. Or say at all.

  “Did you hear Tara got fired?” Becky asks.

  Ah, Brodie wasn’t their main objective. Tara is the real reason they’re here. “I did. I talked to Devon yesterday, and he told me.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Do?”

 
“You know,” she continues to push, “to get Tara fired?”

  My eyebrows nearly fly off my forehead. I got Tara fired. “I didn’t do anything. She confronted me at work and said some pretty nasty things. Devon overheard her and fired her.” I pretend like the whole incident is no big deal, but even thinking about Tara’s words makes my hand want to fly to cover my cheek. With willpower I didn’t know I possessed, I manage to keep my hands firmly planted on the arms of my chair. My nails dig into the upholstery.

  “Can’t you ask Devon to hire her back?”

  What? “Why would I stick my nose out for her?”

  “Come on,” Bailey interrupts. “Let’s not talk about Tara. Didn’t we come here to check on Frankie and get the scoop on her delicious new man?” She smiles at me.

  I’m not prepared to spill about my relationship with Brodie. It’s way too new and confusing, but anything’s better than talking about Tara.

  “Seriously, Frankie, is it too much to ask for you to call Devon on Tara’s behalf?” Becky isn’t ready to let the Tara the witch subject go.

  Um, yes, it’s way too much to ask. “I don’t know Tara except for the two times I’ve met her. And each time she was nasty to me.” I don’t know why I’m explaining myself. These are my girls. They should be on my side.

  “Please, she was being funny.” Being funny? If that was her being funny, I don’t want to see what she’s like when she’s nasty.

  “It’s bad enough you stole the Just You account from her. You don’t need to punish her further by getting fired.”

  What? I stole the Just You account from her? Who do they think landed the account in the first place? I was the one who had meeting after meeting with Mr. Ward, the CEO of Just You products. I can’t count the number of proposals I made for him – for free! – before he finally agreed to give the firm a chance.

  “I think you may be confused,” I start cautiously. Tara has filled them full of shit, but I know better than to bad mouth the woman. She’s obviously put Suzanne and Becky under her spell. I’m not sure about Bailey who looks the definition of uncomfortable right now. “Just You has been with the firm for two years. I worked with them for over a year and a half before my accident.”