CASE STUDIES: Chemistry 101
"Excuse me??"
Josephine Donovan turned sharply away from her desktop PC, peering over the dark rims of her wire-framed glasses. There was no way her longtime acquaintance, come newly promoted supervisor had said what she'd thought. That would have made absolutely no sense.
"I said," Dr. Shelly Winters replied. "That I'm transferring you to the CP-32 project. Things are getting a little heavy down there. You'd add a little levity to the situation."
"Levity?" Josephine took exception to the word. "Me? Levity? If this is one of your attempts to set me up with Greg Petterson, you've got another think coming."
Shelly sighed and shook her head. "Oh please, Josephine. I've long since given up on trying to get you to notice the opposite sex. Greg moved on. He and Tiffany are seeing each other, now. There are more pheromones flying between the two of them than the test subjects. Which is why I need you on the project. I know you'll be clearheaded about the whole thing."
Josephine settled back in her chair, mildly appeased. She and Shelly had talked around the subject of Josephine's disdain for romantic entanglements many times. Although, Josephine had to admit, Shelly hadn't brought it up in a while. Maybe she was serious about the project being purely business. But still, she couldn't shake a niggling doubt in the back of her mind.
"Would I be team leader?" she asked, eyeing her friend carefully.
A small smile peeked at one corner of Shelly's lips. "No. Greg remains team leader. You're going to be assisting. And before you get all upset: You do good work, quickly and efficiently. This project is behind schedule, and the big guys upstairs want it back on track. Devorna Cosmetics is a big account, and we don't want them to be unhappy. That's why you're my girl for the job."
"Fine," Josephine acquiesced. "When do I start?"
"Tomorrow morning would be wonderful," Shelly said, rising from her perch on Josephine's desk. "Move CP-32 to the top of your priority list."
"Done," Josephine said with a click of her mouse, and turned to look at her friend expectantly. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, just one thing," Shelly said, her expression a bit sheepish. "What are you doing this afternoon?"
Josephine made a face. "Why?"
Josephine preferred her life nice, simple and straightforward. Exactly the opposite of Shelly's life. And she was beginning to have a bad feeling about Shelly's tone. The last time she'd given her that look, it had caused an entire week of chaos in Josephine's life while she tried to convince Greg Petterson that she really had absolutely no interest in him.
Shelly tried to look offended as she answered. "Michael's half-brother is coming out to help him get Rytron's Charlotte branch going. I was supposed to pick him up from the airport, since Michael and all of the crew are out on a job, but Brinkman & Brinkman called an emergency meeting this afternoon. You know as well as I do that there is no such thing as a meeting that lasts less than two hours where the Brinkman's are involved. Could you pick him up for me, Josie? Please?"
"Shelly..." Josephine warned. "I'm supposed to be working here, not picking up your family members. Why can't he just take a cab like everyone else?"
"Cabs are so impersonal," Shelly countered. "He's family. Besides, no one will be home at our place. He wouldn't be able to get in. You, however, dear ex-roomie, will have my spare key. And it's after work hours. You'll have a whole fifteen minutes to get to the airport before his plane lands."
Josephine planted her elbows on her desk and buried her face in her hands. "What will you do if I don't do this for you?"
"Well, I'd just have to call Michael and tell him so what that he's trying to build his business. He'll just have to cancel on his clients -- one of the largest clothing chains on the east coast. That shouldn't give his company any bad publicity should it?"
"All right, Shelly," Josephine sighed. "I'll do it. But I'm not baby-sitting him. I drop him off, give him your spare key, and he's on his own. Understand?"
"Perfectly," Shelly grinned triumphantly. "His name is Jake McGregor, and here's his flight information. I owe ya big." Tossing a heart shaped key chain bearing a handful of keys atop a post-it, Shelly disappeared from Josephine's office.
"Yeah, you owe me big all right," Josephine grumbled under her breath.
Jake McGregor felt terrible. He closed his eyes and clinched his fists, willing the burning pain in his gut to subside. This wasn't good, not good at all. He should have known better than to eat more than a taste of one of Kailo's 'special' dishes. Kailo was one of the techies at Rytron's main office in Austin, Texas.
Kailo and a number of others who had been a part of Team A, Rytron's most successful information technology group, had organized an informal going away luncheon.
Maribell had baked a beautiful cake, and Jeremiah had of course done a batch of his famous wings. Kailo, on the other hand, notorious cook extraordinaire, had brought his usual 'glop', as it had come to be called by those who knew him. No one had quite pinned down exactly what was in 'glop', they only knew it was green, contained what Kailo swore was dried fish, and stank to high heaven. Most politely took a small serving and found increasingly creative ways of disposing of the stuff. An unofficial list of ways to get rid of Kailo's glop had actually circulated the office.
Unfortunately, while Jake was attempting to execute way number 12, Kailo had cornered him with several business related questions. Jake could not escape. In order to avoid hurting the young man's feelings, Jake had politely downed mouthful after mouthful. Afterward, he'd chased it with Jeremiah's wings, Karen's mints, Maribell's cake, and Julie's green bean surprise, anything to rid his mouth of the taste.
And now, not sure which food item to blame for his unhappy digestive system, Jake suffered in silence. He only hoped that Michael's wife would be understanding when he didn't join them for dinner. Food of uncertain origin was definitely off the agenda for the next 24 hours.
As the pilot announced that they would be reaching Charlotte-Douglas airport in 15 minutes, Jake allowed a small sigh of relief to escape his lips. If life were truly merciful, he would be curled up with a nice bottle of Pepto Bismol within the hour.
Josephine slammed on her brakes. This definitely had not been a good idea. Airport traffic, during rush hour was definitely a sight to be missed. As the vehicle ahead of her creeped nearer toward the now green traffic signal, Josephine found herself ready to scream. She was going to be late. She hated being late, and worst yet, rushed.
Jake McGregor's plane should have landed ten minutes earlier, and by all evidence, it would be another ten before she would arrive there. Shelly would never trust her with another such task again. Although, that wasn't an entirely bad thing. If only she could accomplish the goal of discouraging Shelly's requests without losing her trust. Being trustworthy and reliable was very important to Josephine.
Suddenly, the group of vehicles ahead of her seemed to realize that they could proceed, moving far enough forward that Josephine could squeeze unto the exit that would lead her to the airport. Breathing a small breath at that, she pressed her foot more firmly into the accelerator as she followed the winding road toward Charlotte-Douglas International Airport.
"Mr. Jake McGregor, please report to the lower level courtesy desk, Mr. Jake McGregor, your party is waiting at the lower level courtesy desk."
Josephine listened as the young woman behind the aforementioned desk repeated her message for the third time. Tapping her fingers against the counter, she scanned the area once again. Where in the world was Jake McGregor? If she'd been sent on a wild goose chase...
"I'm Jake McGregor," a voice croaked behind her.
Turning from her perusal of the other airport occupants, she caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man leaning against the counter. He seemed to be staring rather intently at the representative behind the desk. The very flustered representative behind the desk, Josephine mentally amended.
"I'm your party," Josephine spoke up, before the young woman pulled herself together. Instant irritation that the man might have been flirting with the young desk clerk rose within her. But the moment that he spun his intense blue eyes her way, Josephine faltered. Something wasn't quite right.
The man's incredibly long, dark lashes stood out against pale skin as he continued to lean against the counter. When he began to speak again, it was with difficulty. Josephine began to wonder if he'd been into the drink.
"Shelly?" he asked.
"No," she replied. "Josephine. Josephine Donovan. Shelly asked me to bring you to her and Michael's home. Do you have any luggage?"
"Yes. One bag." He pushed away from the counter and headed toward a duffel bag leaning against the nearby wall. To Josephine's eye he seemed to stagger slightly.
Deciding that she probably couldn't civily ask about his flight, she lead him out of the front doors of the airport and to the upper level parking deck. She ignored the fact that he lagged behind. If she lost him, all the better. Would serve him right. Unfortunately, when she arrived at her car, he was making his way across the parking deck toward her, a determined expression etched into his face.
Breathing heavily, he hefted his large suitcase into her trunk. "Thank you," he murmured quietly between breaths, "for doing this. I know that you don't know me."
"You're welcome," was Josephine's grudging reply. It was definitely a point in his favor that he was being polite. She began to feel a bit guilty for the marathon pace she'd set on the way out of the airport. Maybe he hadn't meant to get drunk.
"How far to Michael's?" he asked, when they were both settled in the car.
If he couldn't wait to get out of her presence, Josephine felt that she certainly couldn't blame him. She began to feel doubly bad for her behavior. That really hadn't been like her at all. She wasn't one to jump to conclusions, or react so quickly toward someone she'd known less than ten minutes.
"About thirty minutes or so," she told him. "They live on the other side of the city, near Harrisburg."
"Okay." Jake leaned his head back into the seat and closed his eyes. Josephine began to notice details that she'd missed in her earlier assessment. Small beads of perspiration had broken out on his brow, and his hands trembled slightly where they rested against his thighs. And his breathing was still unsteady, even after they had exited the airport and were headed toward I-85. A sliver of concern edged through her.
"Are you feeling okay?"
Jake opened his eyes and tried to laugh, but his breath caught on it. "I'd normally say 'Yes'," he managed. "But right now, I'm seeing two of you."
"Have you..."
"Been drinking?" he finished. "No. Wish I had. That way I'd --" Suddenly, he bit off a curse and doubled over, groaning in pain.
Josephine's heart lurched and she nearly lost control of her car. An irate driver in the next lane laid into his horn and sped by. Josephine ignored him. Between holding the wheel steady and keeping an eye on the traffic in front of her, she placed a tentative hand on Jake's back, rubbing soothingly at the hard muscles beneath his shirt. "It's okay," she said, trying to calm him. "I'm going to get you to the hospital."
Jake's breathing had become increasingly labored. Josephine was able to make out something about Kylie and food poisoning. She now wished fervently that her earlier assessment had been true. A drunk she could deal with, but this... She felt woefully inadequate to the task.
Go on to Part Two
Email
Back to Romance
Main Page
Back to Index