For Money or Love Page 4

  What was it about the woman that was so bothersome, like a stiff clothing tag on a shirt collar that wouldn’t lay flat against the skin?

  Jessica stopped several feet away with a wary gaze TJ assumed she mirrored. She tried not to white-knuckle the plastic container. Was Jess here to dismiss her? Maybe that shouldn’t surprise her. Mouthing off to the big boss’s daughter was probably as smart as hiking Everest in flip-flops. At least she was being granted privacy rather than being humiliated in front of other staffers. The kid gloves were an unexpected touch.

  Jess stepped forward and offered her hand. “Hi. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Jessica Spaulding. You’re the new intern, I presume?”

  TJ’s momentary confusion gave way to relief. Jess wasn’t here to terminate her. Setting aside her lunch, TJ stood and shook hands. “Yes. TJ Blake. Nice to meet you.”

  Jess sat across from TJ. “I’m in marketing.”

  “I believe I’ll be working for you.”

  “No one works for me. If anything, we’ll be working together.”

  “Sounds good,” TJ said.

  “I’d love to take you to lunch tomorrow, but some rather unscrupulous hackers have targeted us, forcing us to temporarily close our corporate credit-card accounts. I’m afraid it’s every woman for herself until we can clear that up. That means I can drive us, but you’d have to pony up for your meal. Not very welcoming, I know.”

  “Sounds serious.” TJ appreciated the artifice. Apparently Jess had taken her words to heart about not wanting an expensive meal.

  “It is. I’d offer to cook, but that would be even more disastrous. National-guard level. We can always postpone if you’d rather.”

  “No, no, no. I’m happy to pay for my meal.”

  “Any suggestions as to where we should eat?” Jess asked.

  “How about Waverley Beach Park?”

  “There aren’t any cheap restaurants there. There’s only Le Papillon and Manresa’s. Fine dining.”

  “Let’s go to Al’s Sandwich Shop and split a deli sandwich and their world-famous coleslaw. They provide napkins, utensils, paper bags, and cups for water. We’ll take everything to the park and sit on a bench overlooking the ocean.”

  “No dessert? Dessert is essential,” Jess said.

  “They’ll toss in two Andes mints for free.”

  “Excellent. Ande and I go way back. How much will this lunch set us back?”

  “Seven dollars. Three-fifty each. Million-dollar view.”

  “Perfect. We’ll take my car,” Jess said.

  “Is it safe?”

  “Doubtful. I’ll be driving.”

  “Does it have airbags?”

  “Only for canines.”

  *

  Once TJ finished her lunch, she dropped by Jess’s office for an assignment.

  Jess grabbed her keys and purse. “Let’s go to the Players’ Open. It’s one of the top tennis tournaments in the world, and it’s local. We’re sponsoring it, and we’ve got a suite. I’ll drop you off here afterward.” Jess passed TJ and headed for the exit.

  “What will I be doing?” TJ asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

  “Getting a sense of how we gain and keep customers. It’s not all about investment returns, believe it or not.”

  “It’s admittedly a stretch to imagine having enough money to invest, but if I did, returns are the only thing I’d care about.”

  “All our investors have multiple channels through which to invest. Our job is to differentiate ourselves. If we can get our clients to value our services—including investment returns—on a different level than they value others’, we give ourselves the breathing room to occasionally drop out of the top quartile without repercussion because of comprehensive value perceived.” Jess gave TJ a quick smile before shifting her eyes back to the road. “Not that we’ve ever dropped out of it.”

  During the drive, Jess shared some of the methods Magnate used to try to stand out from other investment advisory firms while TJ listened. Everything Jess said made sense and sounded far more astute than anything TJ had come to expect from her.

  Once they arrived and turned the car over to the valet, Jess led TJ through the stadium grounds and up to the VIP boxes. The suite they entered was spacious. Several young servers stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to do the bidding of a client. A set of rectangular tables housed nonalcoholic beverages and snacks, and each small round table set up for more intimate conversation had a small menu atop it for custom orders, including alcohol.

  TJ passed through the sliding-glass door between the suite and the spectator seats reserved for suite guests. She was so close to the tennis players she could see the sweat beading on their foreheads between points without having to glance at the television monitors overhead. Jess joined her for the next two games, and as the players switched sides, she indicated for TJ to follow her into the suite. There, she introduced TJ to one of the two investment advisors manning the event, who brought Jess up to speed as to which clients and prospects had thus far attended.

  TJ’s attention turned to a seated ruddy-faced man in his fifties speaking with another man while holding a young server around the waist. Each time the server made a move to depart, the man tugged her back and laughed with his male companion. The young woman was trying to peel the man’s hand from her waist as politely as she could, clearly uncomfortable.

  TJ watched the man pull the server onto his knee like she was a child and he was Santa Claus. But these were no reindeer games. He was intoxicated, and the more the young woman tried to disentangle herself, the more he laughed. A quick scan of the room for any sign of someone to come to the woman’s rescue bore no fruit until she was finally able to make eye contact with Jess. TJ flicked her head in the direction of the drunk. Jess followed TJ’s gaze, watched the scene for several seconds, and met TJ’s eyes. She shrugged. TJ looked at her pointedly and tilted her head in a manner that suggested Jess take action. Jess shot back a warning and shook her head.

  TJ crossed the room seconds later. “Get your hands off her,” she said as she stood over the man.

  “I beg your pardon?” he replied as his laughter died.

  “She’s not your chattel.”

  His red face reddened further. “How dare you—”

  “Mr. Torrington,” Jess interjected. She scooped his free hand in both of hers, shook it, and offered him a wide smile. “How lovely to see you. I’m so glad you could make it.” She nodded to the other man. “Mr. Adams. Thank you for coming.” She then turned to the server and lost all geniality. “I’m still waiting for the drink I ordered ages ago. I’d appreciate it if you’d resume your duties instead of chatting up our guests.” The startled woman looked like she was about to cry. Jess barked at TJ. “This isn’t what we pay for. Please handle it.”

  TJ had no idea what just happened but didn’t need to be told twice to get the woman away from the Torrington creep. Her anger, already at the boiling point when she confronted Torrington, was shooting into the stratosphere with what she witnessed from Jess. How could Jess take the situation out on the unfortunate and powerless young woman?

  She steered the server out of the suite. “Are you all right?”

  The woman kept her gaze to the floor and nodded.

  “Where’s your manager?”

  “This way,” the woman said with a nod of her head toward the hallway.

  As they started forward, Jess burst through the suite entrance and rushed toward the server.

  Before Jess could say anything, TJ put her arm between them. “Haven’t you done enough?”

  Jess glared, pushed TJ’s hand away, and returned her attention to the woman. “I’m so sorry for that man’s behavior. I’d like to talk to your manager and get you sent home.”

  The woman’s chin trembled. “But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No, you didn’t, which is exactly what I intend to tell your manager. Can you get him or her for me?”

  “So you ca
n get me fired?”

  “I don’t intend to get you fired. I thought you might be more comfortable heading home than going back in there.”

  “You didn’t order any drinks from me, and I wasn’t chatting up that man.”

  “I know. I didn’t want the situation to escalate.” Jess shot TJ a glance. “He’s drunk, and if confronted, he’s either going to deny any wrongdoing or insinuate that you brought it on yourself. I had to trump up a reason to send you out. Now where can we find your manager?”

  “I can’t leave this soon into my shift. I need the money.”

  “How much would you make if you stayed?”

  The woman shrugged. “Thirteen dollars an hour plus tips. I’m still on for three more hours.”

  Jess reached into her purse, thumbed through her wallet, and extracted five one-hundred-dollar bills. “Here. Will this cover it?”

  Wide-eyed at the sum, the woman nodded and tucked the money in her pocket. “I’ll go get him.” The server rushed down the hallway.

  “Hush money?” TJ asked venomously.

  “What? No. She shouldn’t have to remain on shift after that.”

  “No, but you’ll pretend to blame her so that man can stay without rebuke and continue to act like an ass with anyone else of his choosing?”

  Jess crossed her arms. “I said what I said in there in order to do the least damage possible for all involved.”

  “No. You said it so you could avoid having me tell him to his face that his behavior is unacceptable.”

  “He’s a client.”

  “I’ve no doubt,” TJ spat.

  “I see. You told me yesterday you accept certain objectionable behavior because you don’t want to negatively affect your friend’s restaurant. But I can’t do the same.”

  TJ snorted. “It’s not the same thing at all. Your friend Torrington was physically assaulting the poor girl. That goes well beyond sexist comments.”

  “Assault’s a bit hyperbolic, isn’t it? They’re in a public place. Torrington doesn’t get violent or touch in places he shouldn’t.”

  TJ couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “He does this repeatedly?”

  Jess sighed. She dug through her purse and drew out her office keys and valet ticket. “You’re here to learn what makes businesses succeed. The time will come when you’ll have to decide whether to show a prestigious client the door due to bad behavior or find a way to live with it. If you prefer to leave, take my car back to the office. I’ll finish up here and either have one of the guys drive me or take a cab.”

  TJ stared at the objects in her palm. They hadn’t been here long, she hadn’t gotten much of a sense of any of the marketing aspects of the event, she was once again aware of a rift between Jess and her, and Jess was right. She was here to learn, and she’d have to handle sticky situations with donors.

  Jess closed TJ’s hand over the keys. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, Jess disappeared into the suite.

  TJ tried to get her head into a more conciliatory space before following. She found Jess laughing with Torrington and Adams, sitting close to Torrington as if they were old friends. Occasionally Jess would swat at Torrington’s arm in a flirtatious manner, which sent TJ’s blood pressure skyward.

  When the manager arrived, TJ handled it herself, relaying to him what had happened, apologizing for their client, and informing him that his server handled the situation admirably. She didn’t add that the client hadn’t even had so much as his wrist slapped. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He was getting his wrist slapped playfully by a beautiful blonde who seemed to have regressed into some caricature of herself, the way she’d been when she arrived at the office yesterday.

  TJ spent much of the next hour mingling but found she desired to remain in earshot of Jess. Jess mostly giggled, smiled, nodded, and gaily swatted. She asked questions the men would answer jovially and, as if they thought they were charming and brilliant enough to carry the conversation, didn’t bother asking Jess’s input on anything. Jess acted as if there was nowhere else she’d rather be. This persona was a stark contrast to the woman with whom TJ had shared the car ride over. A game-show line popped into her head: Will the real Jessica Spaulding please stand up?

  After Torrington departed, TJ and Jess returned to the car. Jess turned on the radio after taking TJ’s hint she wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Halfway through the forty-minute drive, Jess lowered the music and broke the silence between them. “I feel as though I kicked your puppy.”

  TJ laughed, despite herself. “That was random.”

  “You wanted a different outcome.”

  The insightful remark surprised TJ. “Yes.”

  “You wanted to punch his lights out.”

  TJ laughed mirthlessly. “Yes.”

  “And mine.”

  “Briefly.”

  “At least you’re honest. Still angry enough not to talk to me?”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “You’re disappointed,” Jess said.

  “I’m not naive. I’ve been in the service industry long enough to know how these things shake out.”

  “Then what’s bothering you?”

  What was bothering her? That Torrington consistently got away with his unseemly pawing of a young woman was par for the course. She hadn’t expected anything to the contrary. It had bothered her that Jess had been initially so flippant about it, shrugging when TJ brought it to her attention. Although TJ silently acknowledged that the server wasn’t being assaulted, it didn’t mean the sexual harassment should have been tolerated. As the most senior company representative in attendance, Jess should have stepped in immediately. Still, Jess had inserted herself directly into the line of fire afterward, allowing herself to be the target of Torrington’s advances until he retired for the day. Moreover, Jess had quickly defused the potentially volatile situation TJ was stirring up, summarily extracting the server from her plight without harming Magnate’s relationship with its client. As disgusting as Torrington’s behavior was, it wasn’t Jess’s fault that his race, gender, and money allowed him to get away with it.

  What was bothering her was her confusion about the woman seated next to her. Jess had as many riches as Fort Knox, part of the nation’s uber wealthy that got away with exactly the kind of unforgivable behavior Torrington displayed. Yet she was approachable and unconceited. She was also a beautiful woman. Had she the smarts to go with it, Jess would be quite an attractive package. Certainly she’d shown flares of intelligence, but they were enmeshed among great swaths of doltishness. It was like being around Mister Ed: when you were alone with him, he was precocious; when others were around, he was simply a horse. TJ didn’t appreciate feeling so disoriented around her and lashed out unfairly.

  “We’re not friends, Jess. You don’t have to ask me what’s wrong.”

  Jess nodded slowly. After a minute, she turned up the volume of the stereo.

  TJ inwardly kicked herself for her childish reply. Jess was being thoughtful, and TJ was pushing her away because she couldn’t neatly fit Jess into her rich-girl stereotype. She switched off the music. Before she could apologize, Jess cut her off.

  “My father’s having a little soiree in a couple weeks. Saturday the ninth. You’re invited.” Jess’s tone was as warm as frostbite, belying the overture. TJ supposed she deserved it.

  “Work-related?”

  “Always.”

  “A party full of Torringtons. Lovely.”

  “If you intend to run a nonprofit one day, you’d better get used to schmoozing. Even if you have a development director, you’ll be expected to press the flesh.”

  “I don’t expect Magnate’s clientele to be the kind of folks I’ll be dealing with in the future.”

  “Don’t be naive. One day you’ll be soliciting donations. That means you’ll need to get comfortable talking to people with money. Lots of it.”

  “Employees need time off with their families. I don’t plan to be the type of employer who
requires night and weekend…” TJ stopped short. The set to Jess’s mouth suggested no latitude. TJ inhaled and then exhaled deeply, trying to keep calm. “You’re requiring my attendance?”

  “I’m inviting you to a party and giving you plenty of notice,” Jess said evenly.

  But Jess held no cards. “Magnate needs me to be successful in my internship so I’ll be hired. Otherwise your idyllic inaugural graduate-program statistics will go up in flames. I’ll pass.”

  Jess regarded her for as long as she could before endangering them on the road. “Percentages, not individuals, matter. You may think you, specifically, do, but you don’t. You won’t be able to secure any kind of recommendation from us. Yes, it would be ideal if you succeed here, but the MBA program will do so regardless.”

  TJ studied Jess, who’d gone from solicitous to Queen’s Guard frigid in seconds. She owned to causing the change. “What I said before, about us not being friends, was uncalled for. I’m sorry. You confuse me, which makes me uncomfortable. When you asked what was bothering me, that’s the answer. Please accept my apology.”

  Seconds ticked by with only the music playing in glorious surround sound. Standard road noise was apparently something the wealthy could opt out of on their vehicles. TJ wondered what the option cost.

  Belatedly, Jess replied. “Apology accepted. Thank you for being honest. What exactly confuses you? I’m not particularly complicated.”

  TJ snorted. “First of all, you’re a woman. All women are complicated. It’s in the handbook.”

  “There’s a handbook?”

  “Lost in the Great Flood, unfortunately. Never made it onto the ark.”

  Jess tsked. “Could’ve come in handy.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “Okay, I’m complicated. But confusing?”

  “You’re different when we’re alone.” Gone was TJ’s lighthearted tone.

  “In what way?”

  TJ wanted to say, “Smarter and more genuine,” but that would be akin to telling Jess she was otherwise stupid and shallow. She wasn’t at all sure-footed in this conversation. “More yourself.” It was a shot in the dark. TJ knew the real Jessica Spaulding as well as someone in a grocery checkout stand knows the true lives of the celebrities splashed across the entertainment magazines.