

SKIP-LEVELING



by M. C. A. Hogarth


Smashwords Edition 
Copyright 2010 M.C.A. Hogarth

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please consider returning to Smashwords.com and purchasing your own copy. Thank you! 

Discover other titles by M.C.A. Hogarth at Smashwords.com



By the time Adrienne noticed the heavy footsteps, it was too late to escape. She stared fixedly at her spreadsheet in the hopes that the illusion of concentration would present an impenetrable shield to the idle passerby.
No luck today.
"I have the juiciest stuff to tell you . . ." Linda rubbed her hands together, eyes sparkling and a broad, smug grin exposing all her teeth. The hefty redhead was a fellow order processor, and should have known better than to be wandering around on a Friday morning. Their director was fond of playing shark.
"I really need to finish this report before John hands me my head," Adrienne said.
"Oh, lay off it. John'll hand you your head no matter what you do. Bad enough that he's always skip-leveling without being impossible to please," Linda said, stepping into the cubicle and leaning against the desk. She glanced at the garment bag. "Not going home before the party?"
"By the time I got home, I'd be late," Adrienne said. She turned her chair from the keyboard and rested her hands in her lap. If she waited long enough--
Linda leaned forward. "So, you'll never guess who I heard crying in the bathroom."
"Who?" Adrienne asked.
"Beth!"
A shiver stole down Adrienne's spine. "Beth? Are you sure?"
Linda snickered. "Oh, yes. Definitely. Can you imagine? The oh-so-powerful veep, sniffling in the ladies' room."
"No," Adrienne murmured, "I can't imagine at all."
The bag crinkled as Linda shifted against the desk. Her scarlet press-ons plucked at the fabric. "I can only wonder what she was crying about. What do you think? Domestic or business? I know the senior VP's been taking flak about the division, and rumor has it our department is dragging everyone down."
"I honestly don't know," Adrienne said, turning back to the computer.
Impervious to subtle hints, Linda said, "I know they expect her to turn the place around, but it's only been a few months. Of course, we know it's a hopeless situation anyway."
"Right," Adrienne said.
"Hey, I thought I heard talking. . . ."
"Dan! What's up?"
Adrienne suppressed the desire to hang her head. What was it about her cubicle today? At least Dan was better company than Linda. A nice man, if a weak manager. She turned to face them both. "Good morning, Dan."
"I was sent to get you. Seems we're wanted in the conference room."
"A meeting?"
"Called by the VP, even. God knows why. Five minutes in conf-two, okay?"
"I'm there!" Linda said. She grinned after Dan's back, then stretched and stepped away. "Maybe some mysteries will be solved."
Adrienne touched the other woman's shoulder on her way out. "Don't push her."
"What?"
"Don't push the veep, okay?"
Linda snorted. "I'm not planning to." She grinned. "I know my place."
Adrienne watched her go, frowning. Then she opened her file cabinet, grabbed her kit and headed for the bathroom. Cautiously, she opened the door: no feet beneath the stalls, nothing but the click of her heels on the tile. She dropped her bag beside the sink.
A swipe with the lipstick, an extra brush of mascara, touch-ups to the charcoal eyeliner that made her green eyes greener. Adrienne brushed off her gray business suit, checked her hose for runs and her shoes for scuffs, then arranged her soft blonde curls around her shoulders. She lifted her chin and met her eyes in the mirror, then left.
Linda and Dan were already in the conference room when she arrived, standing among the plastic palm trees decorated with colored lights and talking about the department holiday party. The blinds on the one window had been parted to let in the diffuse light of an overcast sky. One by one Dan's team trickled in, followed by Janice's.
Last into the room was the VP: slender Beth, hazel eyes washed out to a vague brown by a camel-colored pantsuit. Her short, dark brown hair was somewhat mussed, the thick glasses hanging off her long nose, and yet, as always, her dignity infused her body with an undeniable grace.
The tip of her nose was pink, and glimpses caught of her eyes showed them to be bloodshot. Adrienne folded her arms and schooled herself to a mask of polite interest.
"I'm sorry for the impromptu nature of this meeting," Beth said, without fanfare. "But I wanted to talk to you all at once, before the rumor mills started churning. I'm afraid I had to let John go this morning."
Adrienne's hands tightened against her arms. John? Gone?
"Can we ask why?" That was Dan, who knew very well why. They all wanted to hear it, though.
"John's management style didn't mesh well with the rest of the organization's," Beth said. She paused, then sighed. "I'm sorry, Dan, but I can't say more than that."
He nodded.
"In the interim, Dan and Janice will be reporting to Robert. We have several candidates for the position, and we'll be replacing John as soon as we find someone appropriate. That's all."
Adrienne stood slowly as the others filed from the room. John gone? The hand on her arm reminded her that she wasn't moving--Dan, sliding past her, pausing to say, "I know this will make you happy, Adrienne."
She smiled weakly after him and followed, stopping beside the door and resting against the wall. The air tasted better as she swallowed it, gathering calm.
A few minutes later, Beth left the conference room, walked past the fax machine, paused to list a little. Her shoulders squared and then she continued, turning out of view a few minutes later.
Adrienne took one step after the VP, then backed away and returned to her cube. The spreadsheet on her monitor no longer seemed as menacing. She rested her head in her arms, just to savor the relief. No more abusive tirades . . . no more invasions of her personal space . . . no more unreasonable demands, while her manager watched, powerless to interfere. John had terrorized everyone, but he'd had a thing for pretty women.
Someone was playing Christmas music one row over. Adrienne straightened and resumed her work.

#

By five-thirty the entire floor was silent. Even the people who hadn't left to get ready for the dinner-dance at the hotel couldn't resist starting the long weekend a little early. Adrienne shut down her workstation and locked her cabinets and the cubicle's overhead bins. She picked up her bag and the dress and walked to the bathroom to change.
The door opened on a scattered mess, and in the center of it, a figure slumped against the counter.
"Oh!"
Adrienne halted abruptly, swallowed. Of all the things she could have found sitting by the sink in the bathroom, Beth in a chemise and hose and nothing else was the last she was expecting.
"I wasn't expecting anyone to be here," Beth said, lifting her hands and then letting them fall. "I'll leave--"
"No, that's okay," Adrienne said hastily. She hooked the dress's hanger over one of the stall doors and said, "I just didn't have time to drive home if I wanted to be on time to the party, so I thought I'd dress here."
"Me too," Beth said. She rubbed an arm. "Actually, I'm glad you're here. I could use a little help."
"Help?" Adrienne forced herself to lean against the stall.
Beth waved a hand. "You . . . always look nice. I have no idea what I'm doing. I went to a few boutiques and described where I was going, and bought what they told me to buy . . . but I . . . well . . ."
"Of course I'll help," Adrienne said. Her heart fluttered, and to cover her nervousness she walked to the counter and looked at the cosmetics arrayed beside the sink. Black and silver labels all: Stara, the most expensive brand available. She chuckled softly. "They sold you everything, didn't they?"
Beth glanced at the tubes and bottles. "They said I needed it."
Adrienne nodded. "Well, then let's use it all." She grinned, forced her hands to steady, and reached for Beth's glasses. "Do you need these?"
"Just to read."
"Good." Adrienne set them aside and picked up the moisturizer. The cool cream made her fingers tingle, and she hesitated just a moment before touching them to Beth's jaw. The woman's skin felt better than it had in her dreams.
After the moisturizer, the wrinkle solution for around the eyes and mouth... then there was the cooling primer. Then the foundation, the concealer and finally the powder. When Adrienne stepped back to rinse her fingers, Beth said, "God, I feel like a canvas."
Adrienne laughed. "You are, sort of. Ready for the next step?"
"There's more?"
"I just leached all the color from your skin. Now I have to add it all back."
Beth rolled her eyes. "What a racket. Maybe we're in the wrong business."
Adrienne grinned. "Hold still. We'll do your eyes first."
Whoever had sold Beth her stash had been good; Adrienne liked the colors, and they were bold enough for use in an evening party. "Close your eyes."
Beth did so, leaving her head tipped up. Adrienne just looked at her for a few beats of her heart, then rubbed her fingers in the eye cream pot and applied a swath of cool silver. Soft lavenders, and a blue so pale it was almost white: two eyeliner shades, in keeping with the season's fashion toward applying the darker at the edge and beneath the eye, and the lighter over the top of the lid. Frosted mascara, even glitter, matching the glitter in the rich raspberry-colored lipstick.
"This is the flavored stuff, isn't it?" Adrienne asked, setting the lipliner aside.
Beth flushed. "It was the only line that had the color they liked for me."
"It's a good color," Adrienne said. She sniffed it. "It'll probably taste good, too. Pucker?"
It was hard, very hard, not to answer the question asked by those proffered lips. Adrienne concentrated on applying the lipstick, then brushed on the glittering lip gloss with her thumb. She stepped back, cupping Beth's jaw in her hands. "Okay. Now your hair."
"I should do something with it?" Beth asked.
"I have some bobby pins. It shouldn't take long."
Adrienne pulled out her hair spray and the pins. As she turned back to Beth, the woman said, "Adrienne... thanks for doing this."
The ice-cool make-up made a very different person of the VP. Adrienne smiled weakly. "You're welcome."
After a few minutes of silence as Adrienne brushed and pinned, Beth said, "I imagine you're glad about John."
Adrienne twitched. "Yes." She pulled the woman's hair into a small twist and secured it in the back, then stepped around in front and arranged the few wisps of dark hair around Beth's face.
Beth was looking at her with such intensity that Adrienne stopped.
"Adrienne . . . am I ugly?"
"What?" She wasn't hearing right, certainly.
"Am I ugly?" Beth asked again, jaw firm.
"My God, Beth!" Adrienne said. "No! No. Look!" She turned the woman to the mirror.
They both stared at the results, Beth with stunned amazement and Adrienne with a renewed understanding of what she'd wrought . . . with fingers on cheeks and jaws . . . brushing lips and eyes . . .
"Is that really me?"
"That's really you," Adrienne said, turning to the garment bag next to hers to hide her blush. She opened it, was not surprised at the swath of soft lilac and glitter. "Let me help you into this."
The fabric hissed as she pulled it out, and Beth steadied herself with a hand on Adrienne's shoulder. She stepped into it, and Adrienne zipped the back up, resisting the urge to touch the length of exposed spine above the hem. She straightened the spaghetti straps as Beth pulled on the matching gloves. "There. Now I'll get dressed myself."
Beth touched her shoulder. "Adrienne. Wait."
She hesitated.
"I need to know if he hurt you."
Adrienne shuddered without looking back. "You mean did he touch me? Rape me? Physically abuse me? No. The worst he ever did was stand too close."
"You can press charges against him for harassment." Beth turned her gently around, gloved fingers on her elbows. "Adrienne . . . there are more kinds of abuse than just the physical."
Adrienne squinted, then said, "You. He did it to you too, didn't he."
"And others," Beth said. "He wasn't as bad with me until he knew I was thinking of firing him."
"Was he the one who called you ugly?" Adrienne asked.
Beth opened her painted mouth, then looked away.
"You're not," Adrienne said quietly. She gently disengaged herself and dressed. She found Beth standing there still when she approached the mirror to do her own make-up.
"Can I drive you? To the party."
Adrienne blinked. "I'd like that."
"Okay. I'll meet you downstairs."
Having the bathroom to herself let Adrienne pace. She was crazy to prolong the contact . . . it would only make separation more difficult. Bad enough that she was an order processor working for a manager who worked for a director who worked for Beth, staring all the way up through three levels to the office on the corner . . . but to feed her wishful thinking further? Better to just say 'no'. Better to just walk downstairs and tell Beth she was going to leave the party early, and that she'd drive herself. Politely, firmly. Adrienne applied her cosmetics, a warm gold look, spiced it up with silver here and there, and pulled on her soft gold and silver gown.
She marched down the stairs, emerald earrings swinging against her bare neck. Polite and firm.
"Ready to go?" Beth grinned, one gloved arm draped over the door of a silver convertible. The sparkle in her eyes blew away all of Adrienne's good intentions.
"Oh, what a fun car!"
"I can afford a fun car or two. There are perks to having a vice president's salary."
Adrienne dropped into the passenger seat. "Only the salary?" she teased. "We should put the top up, unless you want the windblown look."
A button press pulled the top over them. Beth shifted, the pale gloves somehow well suited to the hard leather of the stick. "Trust me, you wouldn't want my job."
"Probably not," Adrienne said, glancing at her, then looking out the window as they sped from the parking lot. "They want a lot of you."
"That's only half of it," Beth said with a faint grin. "The other half is that they want it without giving me anything to do it with."
"Beth McKeane, miracle-worker," Adrienne said.
Beth laughed. "Just about. I'd walk on water for Richard, but my fellow VPs aren't interested in helping me help him. And I appreciate his confidence in putting me here, but sometimes I wonder what he was thinking."
"He was thinking you could do the job, I'm sure," Adrienne said.
"Maybe. Or maybe he thought I'd learn faster if he threw me into the pool without floaters." They hit the interstate, headed downtown. Adrienne watched the sodium yellow smolder of the street lights flash past. "Either way, none of us will make it if we don't change something soon. I just can't get any of them to level with me, ever."
"Conflicting agendas," Adrienne murmured. "They must be trying to protect something that helping you will jeopardize. Their jobs. Their prestige. Their slice of the budget."
Beth glanced her way. "That's probably true." A wry smile flitted over her mouth. "Better than my feeling that they're all trying to keep me out of the club."
Adrienne didn't answer, trying to imagine Beth in a room full of men with beer bellies and too much time clocked in the manufacturing industry. She didn't know any of the other operations VPs well, but she knew enough to entertain the suspicion that Beth might be right. Richard, the senior VP of the division, might have every confidence in Beth's ability, but he was probably the only one.
"You've gotten quiet," Beth said.
"I just don't like the thought of a workplace where we're still fighting that kind of thing."
"Oh, there are plenty of men who don't have problems working with women. Just like there are plenty of people who don't have problems working with other races. And there's the other side of the coin: women who discriminate against men. There's all sorts of prejudices still flying around business, but I've been working about twenty years and it's definitely getting better."
Adrienne nodded. "We're lucky to have Richard, though."
A touch of a blush darkened Beth's cheeks, so slight Adrienne almost mistook it for a shadow. Her heart fell. "Oh. I see."
"No, no, it's not that." Beth frowned. "There's nothing--it's not. . . ."
Adrienne couldn't help laughing a little. "You're falling over backwards not to say it, so you might as well just get it out. You like him."
"He's been good to me. He's a good man," Beth said firmly.
"So why don't you ask him out?"
"Ask him out! Adrienne, he's my boss!"
Adrienne smiled a little. "Does that still matter? Is he married?"
"Divorced. Five years ago."
"So, he's probably ready for company."
Beth blushed again. They sped off the highway, hugging the tight concrete spiral down to the maze of one-way streets and skyscrapers that decorated the gray evening with yellow and white lights. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were encouraging me, Ms. Carera."
"Oh, I'd never do that," Adrienne said, wondering even as she said it why she was doing it. Her heart beneath the satin gown was beating too fast, and she felt lightheaded. "Life's pretty short, though, and good people are hard to find."
"I wouldn't even know how to ask," Beth said.
"Just walk up to him and ask him if he'd like to go out for a drink after work."
Beth rapped a quick, nervous beat on the steering wheel as they rolled to a stop in front of a red light. "That seems pretty  harmless. What if he says no, though?"
"Then he says no. It's not like you asked him on a date. You're a couple of coworkers, doing the after-work thing. I bet he has a beer with the other VPs all the time." Adrienne managed a faint smile. "If it becomes a habit, then . . . you'll see where it goes from there."
Beth hmmed. "I'll do it. I'll ask him tonight."
"That's the spirit."
They found the parking garage. "So what about you?" Beth asked as she parked the car.
"What about me?" Adrienne said.
"Any significant others? Husband? Boyfriend?"
Crush? Adrienne thought and looked away. "No . . . I'm not looking for a man right now."
Beth nodded. "Too many bad experiences?"
"Something like that," Adrienne said.
The stark white lights in the parking garage drew their shadows out in front of them as they walked down the ramp. The clouds above the buildings had unraveled in enough places to show stars and a clear, dark blue sky, and Adrienne stared up at them. The walk to the hotel was too short, but maybe that was for the best.
"Around what time do you want to leave?" Beth asked.
Adrienne shrugged, opened the glass door to the lobby. "I don't have an agenda. As long as the sun isn't home before me, I'm fine."
Beth laughed. "Oh, I'll want to go before that. This kind of thing makes me uncomfortable."
"Really? I like dancing. There's never enough opportunity to do it."
"Mmm. I'm not really good at it," Beth said.
And then they were in the lobby, joining a trickle of others in formal clothes on the way to the ballroom the department had rented for the party. The company had stopped having official parties after they'd hit the 1000-employee mark, but the custom of getting together for the holidays had never fully dissipated.
Soft creamy lights illuminated the marble tiles in front of the ballroom, and Adrienne entered, pulled in the sight of the glittering chandeliers, the spotlit band, the broad dance floor and the people moving among candlelit tables. Beth had already moved away to greet one of her peers, and Adrienne watched her go with a slight pang. . . .
Then she glided off in search of friends and acquaintances. Dancing was not something she could do often: not the kind of dancing she wanted, cheek to cheek with a loved one. But there were enough men she liked in  the department to at least see the floor.

#

Adrienne was sitting in a chair in the lobby, massaging her foot, when Beth joined her shortly after midnight.
"Dress shoes are uncomfortable."
Adrienne laughed. "They're not so bad, as long as you don't walk in them."
Beth rolled her eyes. "Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it."
"Kind of does, yes," Adrienne said, and got to her feet. "I take it we're ready to go?"
"I'm tired of going around in circles, making nice. Any more polite smiling and my face will crack off. Let's get out of here."
Adrienne followed her out onto the sidewalk. "Was it really that bad?"
"It wasn't bad, per se," Beth said. "I just wasn't having as much fun as some people. Like, say, a certain footsore order processor."
"You saw me?" Adrienne asked, a quiver running up her body.
"Oh, yes. Every time I looked at the dance floor you were with someone else, though. Preventing jealousy?"
"Jealousy!" Adrienne laughed, opened the car door and dropped inside beside the VP. "Please. Most of those guys are married, or not interested."
"I don't know. Even married people have fantasies." Beth backed the car out of the space, punched the button for the top and rolled to the bottom of the ramp. The wind ruffled between them. "I'm sure even the stodgiest has had a brief, wistful thought about you."
Adrienne chuckled. "Ah well. Too bad for them."
"That they're already attached?"
"That I'm not looking!" Adrienne grinned. "Besides, they have a powerful new vice president to have fantasies about. Why waste their time on a lowly order processor?"
Beth laughed. "Oh, that's good! Fantasize about me? Please." 
Adrienne could not begin to answer the bitterness she heard in the woman's voice, and so she remained quiet. Only a few cars shared the interstate with them as they merged off the ramp. The roar of the wind made hearing difficult, but the fresh cold, even the humidity more than made up for it. That and seeing Beth's hair slowly unravel, wisps of it curling around her long neck.
"That's about as likely as them fantasizing about their mothers," Beth said when they came off the highway. She brushed her hair back impatiently at the first stop light.
"Beth, you did look in the mirror before we left, right?" Adrienne said, letting her head rest back against the seat and looking at her.
"But I don't normally look this way."
"Your face wasn't mystically changed by the cosmetics. Your body didn't transform when you put on that gown. All the things that make you beautiful are only augmented when you dress them up. You only highlighted them tonight."
"Me, beautiful."
"Yes," Adrienne said. "Your dignity. Your grace. The way you react to pressure. Your wry sense of humor. Your voice. The intelligence in your eyes. Your ease with your authority."
Beth glanced at her, eyes wide.
"Those are the things that make you beautiful. Not a thousand dollars worth of make-up and fabric."
They were silent after that, until the parking lot. Beth guided the convertible into the senior VP's spot and turned off the car.
"So, did you ask him?" Adrienne said gently.
Beth shook her head, her gloved hand still resting on the keys in the ignition.
"Why not?"
"I . . . he's my boss, Adrienne. I can't just . . . date my boss."
Adrienne frowned. "The real reason."
Beth paused. "I . . . guess I was afraid. Afraid he'd say no."
Adrienne reached over and took the woman's hands. "Beth! Beth. Why would he say no? Do you really believe he wouldn't be interested?"
"I don't know," Beth said, looking down at their hands. "All my life I've . . . well, I've never really thought about having someone. I wanted my career. I worked hard for it. And then I realized, a month after I took this position, that I was coming home to an empty apartment. That there was barely any furniture in my apartment. That I didn't want it to be that way for the rest of my life, but that . . . well, I'm running out of time. I'm not young any more, and I'm not the sort of woman most men my age are looking for."
"They don't know what they're missing," Adrienne said, and could not stop herself before she had leaned over and placed her lips on Beth's, licked the raspberry lipstick . . . fallen into the woman's open mouth. Her flesh pebbled into goose-bumps, but it was not just the cold but the heat.
Adrienne broke away abruptly. She couldn't bear to look over at Beth, but opened the car door and closed it, head down to hide her flushed cheeks. "Thanks for the ride," she said, and fled for the building.
A pause, then the sound of the car door opening, the click of heels on pavement and the hiss of satin and crinoline. Then Beth grabbed Adrienne's arms and turned her. Her breath came in soft white clouds as she panted, and her eyes were wide.
"Stop. Stop. What . . . what was that? What was that?"
"I'm sorry, I overstepped my . . . I didn't mean to . . ."
A fragile smile twitched on Beth's mouth, the outline of her lips slightly smeared. Her eyes were serious. "You're bending over backwards not to say it, so you might as well."
"I . . . can't," Adrienne said, trembling.
Beth cupped her face, met her eyes. "Whatever it was," she said, "Maybe we should try it again."
Adrienne wrapped her arms around the woman and met her halfway: raspberry-hot, her entire body an exultation.
"My God," Beth said afterwards, forehead resting against Adrienne's. "I had no idea. . . ."
"I didn't want you to know," Adrienne said.
"Not that you had a crush on me. That this would feel good," Beth said, chuckling huskily.
Adrienne blushed. "Beth . . ."
"Would you like to go out? For a drink after work."
Adrienne laughed out loud. "Beth!"
The woman grinned. "Well, you said it would be easy. It was pretty easy." She grew serious again and rested her hands on Adrienne's shoulders. "Will you? I . . . don't know much about this."
"This, what? Relationships? Dating? Dating a woman?"
"Any of it," Beth said, with a half-smile.
Adrienne nodded. "Mmm. Well, luckily, I can help."
"So we should try that kissing thing again," Beth said.
And they did.
"Tell me something?"
"Mmmm."
"Is that lipstick really raspberry-flavored?"
Adrienne laughed. "I think so. Try it yourself--it's all over me by now."
Beth grinned. "I have an idea." She trotted back to the car and started it, then rummaged through a CD-case. Choosing one, she slid it into the CD player and turned up the volume. A few minutes later, a smooth tenor started crooning 'Dancing in the Dark.' The woman lifted her arms. "I'm not so good at this, but it's something I'd like to learn . . . among other things."
Adrienne stepped off the sidewalk and joined her on the asphalt, taking her hands. "Oh, it's easy. Just let me lead."
The music filled the silence of the parking lot and they danced across the spaces reserved for vice presidents and directors, laughing. When the song segued into something a little more somber and they found themselves entangled, only their hips moving, Adrienne whispered into the nearby ear, "Ms. McKeane . . . is this skip-leveling?"
"Of the most severe degree," Beth whispered back. "I would discipline you, Ms. Carera . . . if I cared."
Adrienne giggled.
A little later: "By the way . . . the answer is yes."
"Hmm?"
"To 'will you have a drink with me.' Yes."
"Ah. Well, then, we'll see what goes from there . . . won't we?"

***

About the author:

M.C.A. Hogarth has been many things--a web database architect, product manager, technical writer and massage therapist--but is currently a parent, artist, writer and anthropologist to aliens.

Discover other titles by M.C.A. Hogarth at Smashwords.com


Connect with Me Online:

Twitter: http://twitter.com/mcahogarth

Website: http:/www.stardancer.org

My blog: http://haikujaguar.livejournal.com
