“Nice to meet you, Donna.” He looked at Valerie. “Done?”
“Let me just grab some zucchini.” She lifted her hand. “See you tomorrow, Donna.”
“Sure thing, Valerie.”
She slipped four zucchinis into a produce bag and caught Donna staring at her from the other side of the produce department. She looked up at Brad. “I have a feeling we’re going to be the source of some rumors.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “How so?”
“Well,” she said on a breath, “Donna is in NAWIC with us, and I’ve noticed she is prone to gossip.”
He winked down at her. “Shall I kiss you? Make the gossip really juicy?”
Valerie gasped and laughed. “I will not have our first kiss be in the produce department of a grocery store.”
He slipped an arm around her waist and grinned. “Oh? Is that so? But this is a romantic grocery store date-date.”
Still laughing, she slapped a hand onto his chest. “Absolutely sure.”
With a mock sigh, he let her go. “Fine. Apparently, you get to dictate where our first kiss will be. I guess I should cling to the idea that there will at least be a first kiss and let that tide me over.”
“Such drama.” She gripped the handle of the cart. “All set?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll make it up to you by making you some zucchini bread.”
He casually put his hand on her lower back as they walked to the checkout. “See, here you are speaking my language. It’s no wonder you so consume my thoughts.”
Valerie tossed her empty yogurtcontainer in the break room trash and went into the bathroom adjacent to the break room. She heard a couple of women come into the room a few minutes later. She exited the stall just as they went in.
“I’m telling you, Diane, I saw them together myself. Plus, someone else saw them together at that Memorial Day picnic we weren’t invited to.”
Valerie froze in the middle of washing her hands. She knew, without a doubt, that this unknown woman spoke of her and Brad. Unable to ignore the impulse, she stayed by the sink instead of leaving.
“Who is she? I’m not putting a face with the name.”
“The new black architect chick. Don’t you remember? Something happened to her when she worked for the Dixons in Savannah. There’s been a lot of hush-hush conversation about it.”
“Oh, I think I know who you’re talking about.” The toilet flushed and she could barely hear the sound of the metal lock sliding over the rushing water. “Her? Seriously? What makes her Dixon material?”
“Sounds uppity for sure. Social climber.”
The stall opened and the file clerk receptionist, Diane, came out adjusting her belt. Valerie stood with her back to the sink, arms crossed over her chest and legs crossed at the ankles, giving the air of nonchalance. Diane had the courtesy to freeze and turn red. However, she did not say another word. Valerie raised an eyebrow and waited while Donna continued the conversation.
“Must be something. No one’s ever been able to get a Dixon to look twice. I’m not sure which one she was with, but it was one of the brothers for sure. Probably Jon. Rumor has it he’s a little wild.”
She came out of the stall and froze when she saw Valerie. For several seconds, they just stared at each other. Finally, Valerie pushed away from the sink and said, “I was actually socially climbing up Brad.” When their eyes widened, she nodded and said, “Ladies.”
Valerie left the bathroom keeping her footsteps purposeful and slow. She calmly headed straight to the elevator, praying she could maintain the cool composure as long as she needed to. When she pushed the button for the executive floor, she wondered if she needed to see Brad or Sami. Honestly, anyone who didn’t hate her would do.
By the time she made it into Sami’s office, the panic attack had started. Her heart pounded and the edges of her vision had blackened so she could barely see in front of her. Every breath felt like it contained zero oxygen, and her stomach rolled with nausea. Sami wasn’t at her desk, so she burst into Brad’s office.
Phillip sat in the chair in front of Brad’s desk, and they both looked up sharply when she burst in. Before she could speak, Brad had crossed the room and had her in his arms. “What happened?” he demanded.
The words could barely come out. Every word burned her throat and she thought she might throw up or pass out, neither of which appealed to her. Somehow, she told him. When she got to the words “black architect chick,” Phillip demanded names.
“I only know first names. Donna, an intern in engineering, and Diane from the file room.”
