Roz Fox - Welcome To My Family

If she’d counted on her childhood bed to bring instant sleep, she was sadly mistaken. She lay awake staring at the gold and silver glitter she’d talked Pop into spraying on the ceiling when he remodeled her room for her twelfth birthday. Kat remembered crying buckets until he’d promised to add the sparkles. Now it was horribly outdated. Time, she thought, did indeed bring change.

Like her going to work for Flintridge. If anyone had ever suggested she’d take a job with Motorhill’s rival one day, she would’ve vehemently denied it. Frankly, she still wasn’t sure about doing this. After the initial interview, she’d been excited to find a local company eager to use her degree and her skills. Mary hadn’t made it sound so great, though. At least not as far as the company’s CEO went. Apparently the rank and file would welcome her.

That thought made Kat feel better. It’d probably be months before a busy CEO found time to meet her. By then, she’d be able to impress him with a fully operating program.

Yawning, she closed her eyes and muttered, “Plenty of time.”

Meanwhile, maybe she’d bump into the sexy test jockey she’d met earlier. Her pulse skipped a bit before it steadied. Why she’d want to meet His Surliness again was beyond her. Sitting up, Kat thumped her pillow into shape. Speaking of men…She really wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of Louie Kowalski’s son tracking her down. But suppose he did? There was nothing to say she had to welcome him to the family or anything.

Kat whacked her pillow again. Relieved to have a few things decided, she snuggled into freshly laundered linens that smelled of security and home.

THE WEEKEND FLEW BY so fast, Kat wasn’t certain there’d been one when her alarm sounded Monday morning. Groaning, she rolled over, grabbed for it, but knocked the clock to the floor. Poseidon bounded across the room and dragged it, still buzzing, out of her reach. “Now you’ve done it, dog.” Kat crawled slowly out from under the covers. Her body ached from the physical labor of unloading her belongings.

After she’d retrieved and silenced the alarm, she warmed up for the air force exercises she’d done religiously since junior high. Back then she’d had a terrible crush on Ryan Kelley, who’d declared himself academy-bound. As it turned out, he’d become a podiatrist and married a gourmet cook. Last time Kat saw him, Ryan was overweight. Yet she owed him for making exercise and good health her life’s passion.

The routine didn’t take long. Soon she’d showered and dressed for her first day on the new job.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Just Kat, her mother and Poseidon. Pop hadn’t come in from the races until after 2:00 a.m., Kat knew. But because her stomach was in such a turmoil with first-day jitters, she purposely didn’t mention that to her mother.

Leaving an unhappy dog behind, Kat drove the route she’d mapped out. Worried about losing her vehicle in the mammoth parking lot, she checked coordinates, then smoothed her suit skirt before falling in with a throng heading through the main gate. Ordinarily she wouldn’t wear a skirt to work, but yesterday all three sisters-in-law had badgered her. Seeing the women here dressed in what she’d term church dress, Kat was glad she’d taken Shannon, Mary and Erin’s advice.

Outside the personnel office, Kat hauled in a deep breath. A lone occupant in the room glanced up, then away as she entered. Kat figured it was just as well she hadn’t expected the red-carpet treatment. She approached the woman with her best smile. “I’m Kathleen O’Halloran reporting for work as the new recreation specialist.”

The woman’s smoothly penciled eyebrows shot up. “I expected a person with your athletic background to be more…robust.” The cool gaze flicked over Kat again as the woman walked toward her. “I’m Wendolyn Nelson, director of Personnel.”

Kat made her own survey of the statuesque blonde, who wore cascades of gold chains as if they’d been minted for her. The gleaming chains draped an expensive green silk dress that matched the cold eyes. Kat thought the woman resembled a fishpond and she felt disappointed by Ms. Nelson’s cold demeanor. During the phone interview, she’d sounded nice. “Athletics is a matter of muscle tone,” Kat murmured. “I assure you, I’m much stronger than I look.”

“Yes. Well, we may never know the full extent of your prowess. The position may be only temporary.”

“But…your advertisement said the job was permanent.”

The director seemed faintly disconcerted. “Maybe you’d rather not take the job? Our CEO sees no need to mix recreation with work, and frankly, I agree.”

“Well, perhaps I’ll have to change his mind,” Kat said, with a smile she hoped conveyed the message that she didn’t care what this woman thought.

“I sincerely doubt that, Ms. O’Halloran.” The blonde pursed her lips. “Anyhow, at the moment you have paperwork to complete. From then, until he decides the program’s fate, you’ll report directly to our CEO.”

Kat gave a low whistle.

“I know it’s irregular.” Ms. Nelson might have said more, but the door opened then and several women trooped in, chatting and laughing until they glanced up and saw the director eying them in a faintly disapproving fashion. They quickly melted into the seats at various workstations.

“Late again, ladies?” Ms. Nelson made a production of checking her watch. “This gives new employees a bad impression of Flintridge. Lucy…” She singled out a thin brunette. “Start Ms. O’Halloran on these forms.” She tossed out a folder, marched into an inner office and slammed the door.

Although Kat was sure she wasn’t intended to see the look shared by the four secretaries, it was hard to miss. She wondered if anyone had ever quit Flintridge on the first day. Technically, before the first day. The notion surfaced again before Kat had completed the endless forms. She was favorably impressed by the company’s generous insurance benefits and profit-sharing package.

The video she’d been required to see was wasted time. Except that it gave her a rough idea why the workers here needed a recreational program. As in most industrial-line jobs, the work was repetitious and boring. Otherwise, Flintridge appeared to run a tight ship. Watching the company video, she observed little or no camaraderie among the workers as they assembled the big luxury cars.

“I’m finished, Lucy,” Kat said when the brunette poked her head back into the room. Checking her watch, Kat was surprised to see the orientation had taken more than three hours.

Lucy led the way to the director’s office, where she tapped on the door. “Ms. O’Halloran is finished,” she said. “Shall I escort her upstairs?”

“Certainly not.” Ms. Nelson hurried to the door and snatched the folder right out of Lucy’s hand. “Mr. Kowalski is expecting me to deliver Ms. O’Halloran. That will be all.” She dismissed the young woman with a wave.

Kat shook her head. Had the director said Kowalski? Perhaps it was a common Polish name, like Murphy in her community. Kat might have asked, except she barely managed to keep with Ms. Nelson’s brisk stride up nine flights of stairs. Eschewing the elevator was obviously how Ms. Nelson got her exercise. No wonder she didn’t feel the company needed a recreation program! By the time the director stopped, Kat found herself standing ankle-deep in mauve carpet before a desk labeled Executive Secretary to the President.

“Mrs. Carmichael, I’d like a word with Mr. Kowalski before you send this employee in.” Ms. Nelson’s tone bordered on brusque.

Kat watched a smile fade from the face of the attractive silver-haired woman who turned from her computer. “Is that necessary, Wendy? He’s very busy, and not in the best of moods.”

Getting the feeling her presence would add to the boss’s bad mood, Kat drifted out of earshot to where she could study a large painting gracing the far wall. Suddenly the door beside her, one marked Private, flew open and a man in a dark suit almost bowled her over. “Hazel, get me the stats—” The man stopped and refocused. “You!” he exclaimed, staring at Kat.

Any air stored in her lungs lodged there as Kathleen faced the driver from the stranded car. “Mr. Sl-Slater,” she stammered. Kat quickly thrust out a hand, then withdrew it when he made no move to take it. A niggling suspicion began to emerge. Today her test jockey looked top-drawer in a navy blue pinstriped suit, white shirt with button-down collar and a striped tie with just a dash of burgundy. A matching handkerchief peeked from his breast pocket, along with a familiar gold pen.

Kat decided she’d underestimated the cost of his haircut the other day. Those precision layers, graduating from tarnished gold to sun-bleached white, were more like fifty bucks a whack.

A person who often laughed when she was nervous, Kat couldn’t prevent a giggle from surfacing now. She imagined how he’d glower if he knew how she’d labeled him the other day. Salesman…or test driver. She giggled again.

Stung by her laughter, Slater felt his blood begin to heat. “Slater’s my first name,” he said tersely. “You never asked for a last, but it’s Kowalski.” He enunciated each syllable as he stalked toward his secretary’s desk.

Kat’s jocularity died and she practically swallowed her tongue.

“You two have met?” exclaimed his personnel director and executive secretary in unison. The former recovered first. “But…you said you didn’t know anyone with a degree in kinesiology,” Ms. Nelson accused her boss. “This is the new recreation specialist I hired.”

“What?” Slater whirled, raking Kat from head to toe with a horrified look. “She’s our what?” he repeated.

“Honestly, Slater,” his secretary chided. “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a bad heart like your father. Wendy asked do you or don’t you know Ms. O’Halloran?”

“Yes,” he bit out, then as quickly denied it, “I mean, no…I don’t.” Brandishing the clipboard, Slater advanced on Kat. “When we met, it was raining cats and dogs. One of whom left muddy paw prints all down a new linen shirt. Where is Brutus?” he asked, deliberately peering behind Kat.

His audience looked baffled, except for Kat. “Linen,” she murmured. “It figures. Poseidon’s at home. But I thought you said he only licked you. I did offer to pay the cleaning bill.” Smiling sweetly, she added, “Are you thinking of throwing that clipboard in another one of your tantrums? If so, maybe I’ll quit now.”

“I think not.” Slater flung his free arm toward his personnel director. “Ms. O’Halloran’s folder, please.” His stormy gaze never left Kat’s.

Wendolyn Nelson hugged the manila folder to her breast. “My second choice for the job was a nice young man from Purdue. He’ll have his master’s degree in three months. Of course, he wanted more money, and he can’t start until July.”

“Just give me the damn folder. If I don’t have a recreation specialist on the premises today, we can expect an employee riot.”

“But sir…Perhaps we should go through the list of possibilities again.” Ms. Nelson still clung to Kat’s folder.

This time Kat deemed it prudent not to smile.

“That’s not necessary, Wendy,” Slater snapped. “I’ll take over from here.” He pried the folder out of the woman’s hand and motioned Kat into his office with it.

“What stats did you want?” his secretary called seconds before Slater stalked inside after his unwelcome guest.