Authors: Heather Hiestand
Long ago, Rob remembered, Jack had a problem with cocaine.
Grandfather had given him a second chance in memory of Jack’s father, who had
been Operations Director at LeatherWorks before his early death from lung
cancer. Jack had taken that opportunity and made a real success of himself. But
now, ten years later, he was acting erratic again. He’d have to see what
Grandfather thought, if this was how Jack had behaved before.
“You feeling okay?” Rob asked.
“Never better, buddy.” Jack smiled. “You’ll pull us out of
this mess. I’ve got faith in you.”
Chapter Ten
Al placed the mock-up board depicting a four-ounce black
champagne bottle with a dark eye-shaped label back on the easel in the corner
of Melanie’s small office. “Midnight Oil. I like it. I’ve always preferred our
massage oil product to our massage lotion product.”
Melanie leaned against her desk and crossed her arms. “Oil
could use a boost since lotion sales have been higher recently.” Due to the
poor quality of our oils, she reminded herself. Would the problems destroy the
new product too? With her job on the line, she’d make sure they didn’t.
Al smoothed his tie. “What about massage milk? Have you
considered that?”
Melanie thought for a moment. “We could go with a Cleopatra
theme. That might work. She supposedly bathed in milk. It would be different.”
“Work on it, but quickly. We need to build up our cash
position with new, exciting products.”
“Any word on our existing product line?” At Al’s raised
eyebrow, Melanie said, “Quality-wise. Did the testing that was mentioned in the
company e-newsletter get completed?”
“There aren’t any adulterants in the raw materials or at the
plant.”
“So they have no idea why we’ve had so many complaints at
the retail end?” C’mon, she thought. There has to be something. Product
turnover was high so rancidity wasn’t the answer. Professional Massage had
reduced production and furloughed a shift of workers when sales slowed.
“The assumption is there was a temperature problem causing
rancidity. The heating bills at the plant have been extremely high. They’ve
locked down the thermostats and tested the monitors, so it shouldn’t be a
problem anymore.”
Sabotage or mechanical failure? “So the raw oils were
exposed to high temperature?”
“Right. In the storage area. Don’t waste time worrying about
the operational side of the house, Melanie. Let’s schedule a review for
Midnight Oil and whatever variation of the massage milk idea you come up with
as soon as possible.”
“What kind of timeframe do I have?”
“ASAP. I want the new products on store shelves by the
Christmas selling season. We just had a call for cash by upper management
yesterday. No experimentation, just make it work with what our suppliers have
available and get it out the door.”
“Does this have anything to do with LeatherWorks?”
Al narrowed his eyes. “What do you know about that?”
“I heard a rumor in Vegas.” Melanie shuffled some papers on
her desk.
Al frowned. “I hope you didn’t spread them around.”
Melanie remembered telling Tommy Joe but she didn’t mention
it. Al looked upset enough as it was.
“I’ll keep it to myself,” she said with a wince. In her
current tenuous position, she wouldn’t be volunteering anything.
“Good. Senior management wants it kept quiet.”
Melanie nodded at Al as he left her office and reached for
her phone to call Jill. Her hand was an inch away when it rang.
“Melanie Vanderpool.”
“Melanie? It’s Rob Black.”
Her heart fluttered. Why would he be calling? She remembered
how they had left things. Not well.
“Hi,” she said slowly, hearing the question in her voice.
Feeling restless, she paced behind her desk.
“Question for you.”
“Yes?” He sounded calm. Maybe being back in his home
environment had calmed the paranoia.
“Wicked Oil.”
That company’s name was the last thing she expected to hear.
Melanie frowned. “They are nominally a competitor of ours. I’ve seen their
products in one store in Seattle, but we don’t have the same product range.”
“Oh?” Aha. The gravel in his voice was faint but growing
stronger. Still paranoid.
He was so silent she could hear the low static on the line.
“But remember my idea for a new product? They’re the ones that announced a
similar idea, so I guess we are going to be competing very directly in the
future.”
“You’re coming out with your idea anyway?”
“No, remember? I had a second idea.”
The one intimately
connected to you
. “Why are you asking?”
“They made an offer for LeatherWorks.”
Melanie couldn’t think of what to say. “No kidding. Do they
want to move your operations to Odessa?”
“I have no idea. I thought you might know how they found out
we were for sale.”
“How would I know that?”
“Our talks with Professional Massage were supposed to be
secret.” Rob emphasized the last word.
“You told me about it,” she reminded him. “Don’t blame me
for your own mistake.”
“I think that was the mistake that brought this new bid into
existence,” Rob said tersely.
So that’s why we need the cash so soon,
Melanie
realized.
LeatherWorks is going to cost more than expected.
“So now you
think I’m a spy for this company? I’ve worked for Professional Massage since I
got out of college. My loyalty is here.”
“You have no contact with Wicked Oil?”
“I don’t. I do have a coworker who is related to the CEO.”
“Did you tell him about the proposed sale?”
Melanie opened her mouth to say no then decided against it.
“Yes.”
“Why would it even come up?” She could hear his annoyance.
“Gossip. I am sorry, but you shouldn’t have shared
information with me if it was supposed to be a secret.”
“He must have told the CEO.” Rob ignored her apology.
“It wouldn’t surprise me. I’m sure he didn’t realize he was
doing anything wrong.”
“Is this your boyfriend we’re talking about?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said automatically. Rats.
Hadn’t she meant to make him jealous? And why did she care if she sounded
available?
“So you tie up casual strangers in public?” The gravel in
his voice had turned into a purr. Was he turned on or just teasing?
Her hand slipped on the phone. She caught it, realizing his
sexy voice was beginning to make her palms sweat. “I didn’t know we were in
public. It was a weird scene.”
Rob laughed. “It looked to be his kind of thing though.”
“You think so?” Melanie couldn’t figure out why she would
want to defend Tommy Joe, but Rob had a way of irritating her, even as he made
her want to jump him. “He’s a very nice person actually. And to be honest, it
was practically my idea.”
“Whatever,” Rob said sarcastically. “Try not to share my
company secrets with the world in the future, okay?”
“You told me to share LeatherWorks’ dirty little sexual
harassment secret with my company the last time I saw you. Why not all of your
secrets?” She matched his tone, in the hopes he would realize how silly he was
being. And get back to sexy again.
Unfortunately, the sarcasm turned to superior male
exasperation. “Show a little judgment, okay, Melanie?”
Oh! He sounded like Gerald. But she wasn’t dumb anymore, she
wasn’t impossibly naive and eighteen. She could control her lust.
“That’s rich coming from a soon-to-be-unemployed,
paranoid—oh Rob, you make me so mad sometimes!” Her words came out in a breathy
voice, sickening her. Whether her mind liked it or not, her body insisted she
play the mating game.
He laughed. “At least I don’t bore you. I’m sorry for
scapegoating you. This deal, which I don’t even want to go through, just keeps
getting complicated. It’s a bad time and I’m seeing demons at every turn.”
Demons? “Don’t worry about it,” she retorted. “I don’t
expect we’ll run into each other again.”
Melanie! Don’t tease. You’re so
pitiful, fishing for hope from him.
“That’s what you think. I like to win my bets.” The phone
went dead. Melanie stared at it blankly for a moment then replaced the
receiver, remembering he had bet Tommy Joe’s losses against them meeting again.
She wrinkled her nose. He’d lost forty bucks on that video poker machine. But
it was a sucker bet. He didn’t have to pay up because he’d win if they ran into
each other. She was the sucker. Letting out a deep breath, she dialed Jill’s
number. All she got was voice mail.
* * * * *
“Jilly, Jilly, Jilly,” Jack’s creamy voice hummed into
Jill’s ear.
She automatically smoothed her rainbow-colored broomstick
skirt before she spoke. “Hi, Jack.”
“That’s it?” he asked, silky as a snake. “No ‘you stallion,
you’? No ‘last weekend was the best sex of my life’?”
“You flatter yourself,” Jill said lightly, leaning into the
phone.
“It takes two to be that good, baby. When can I see you
again?”
She shivered at the way his voice had roughened. “I have
aerobics tonight and dinner with my mother on Tuesday.” She thought for a
moment. “And Wednesday is my book club. How about Thursday? There’s a good
comedian doing a show at the Muckleshoot Casino.”
“Baby girl, you know we can’t see each other in public right
now. Not until the sale is canceled.”
“Do you really think—” Jill said in her normal voice then
lowered it and bent still farther over the phone. “Do you really think
Professional Massage will fire you after we purchase LeatherWorks?”
“Yes,” Jack said impatiently. “Of course. That’s the way all
businesses work. Cut the guys who make the big money off the payroll.”
Jill thought sourly of that big salary and how it hadn’t
been used to purchase her any presents since the day after the first time she’d
slept with him. What good was it doing her, despite his promises? Three months
now. She was starting to feel cheap. Jill hated feeling cheap.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said in a singsong
voice.
“No, Jack,” she said automatically. “I can’t anymore.”
“Sure you can, baby girl. That’s what you said last time,
after you were promoted out of the plant. But you managed and cost Professional
Massage a pretty penny.”
“They’ve locked down the thermostats. I just heard a
director telling my boss.” She sighed, thinking of how unfair all this spying
and sabotage had been to Melanie. She had stressed out her boss, put her under
risk of being fired if she couldn’t come up with something new to save the
company and for what? A relationship that she wasn’t sure would last if she
told the man “no”. “I can’t help you for love or money.”
“I’ve got a lot of love to offer.”
Yeah and no money. “I’m sorry, Jack. I don’t want you to
lose your job, but I can’t do it.” She picked at a loose piece of yarn on the
pocket of her crocheted vest.
“So think of something else,” he said in a persuasive tone.
“The sabotage was your brilliant plan. Remember that weekend together? The things
I did to you with Professional Massage’s massage oil?” His voice lowered.
Jill shivered involuntarily, feeling the moisture pool at
the apex of her thighs. Why was it that it always felt extra dirty to use
company products when she had sex? She took a deep breath and felt her nipples
pucker underneath her corduroy shirt. Jack was reliable in one way. “Come over
tonight. I’ll be home around eight thirty.”
“No can do,” Jack said, his voice all business. “Dinner at
the old Whipmaster’s.”
“You can come by afterward.”
“No. It will be too late and I work out at six thirty a.m.
on Tuesdays. You know that. I’ll come over Thursday. At midnight,” his voice
deepened on the last word.
Jill giggled and squirmed in her chair. “What am I going to
do until then?”
“I don’t know, but think of me while you’re doing it,” he
said in a sexy baritone. “And after you come, think of another way to cut back
Professional Massage’s cash flow.”
Jill heard Melanie’s door open and quickly dropped the
phone. She knew her face was scarlet, but Melanie didn’t really look at her.
She seemed a bit unfocused, which was unusual.
“I need you to schedule a product review meeting for two
weeks from today. And set up a meeting with the R and D director,” Melanie
instructed, moving at a fast clip past Jill’s desk.
“Where are you going?” Jill asked, hoping her boss wasn’t
getting sick.
“Down to the mixing room. I want to work on a scent for a
new product,” Melanie responded. She had already prototyped the cranberry,
cinnamon, musk scent for Midnight Oil, but now she had to come up with
something for Cleopatra Massage Milk.
After passing the lunchroom, Melanie swiped her keycard down
its slot in the security-protected door of the mixing room. Filled ceiling to
floor with locked cupboards, the room contained hundreds of vials of scents,
far more than the line of sixty essential oils that Professional Massage
carried for wholesale repackaging or the twenty-five oils they sold under their
own brand. Adjacent was a cabinet full of various mixing compounds, both
natural, like sesame oil and chemical, like the polysorbates. As always,
Melanie wondered why they hadn’t converted the cupboards to keycard as well,
instead of sticking with the old locks.
She pulled her keys out of the old lab coat she had donned
in her office and unlocked two of the essential oil cupboards. For the next two
hours she mixed and matched until her head spun with the strong scents of
undiluted oils. Ultimately, her selection included jasmine, burdock, yarrow,
linden flower, hops and mint in a base of aloe vera, distilled water,
polysorbate twenty and powdered milk. The crisp but sensual herbal scent would
entice her to stay in a bath for hours, she decided. She finished writing the
formula on a notepad and made a note to remind Development to put in the
preservatives.
A job well done, she told herself after putting everything
away and opening the door of the mixing room. She had accomplished her task and
her project had kept her from thinking about Rob’s phone call. But he wasn’t
the only man nominally in her life.
Tommy Joe stood outside the mixing room door, as if lying in
wait for her. His eyes blazed into hers for a moment then he tilted his head
and grinned boyishly.
“Hi there,” she said, blinking at the industrial lighting in
the hall. The lights were fairly dim in the mixing room to lessen damage to the
oils. She felt a little dizzy, not sure if it was from his strange gaze or the
lighting. Melanie put her hands to her temples. “I’m going to get something to
drink in the cafeteria.”