Shatterproof by Yvonne Collins, Sandy Rideout Page A

it.”
    “It wasn’t what it looked like,” I say, hunching against the wind.
    “So you weren’t kissing some hot guy?”
    “He kissed me ,” I say. “Like you’re in a position to talk. You’re both players.”
    They shrug in unison. “This is you,” Scott says. “Last woman alive still wearing a girdle.”
    “Not that we’ve checked,” Jaz says, shuddering. “Anyway, you’re the smart one, Eleanor. The sensible one.”
    “And Noah’s the brother we always wanted,” Scott adds. “You can’t play him.”
    “I didn’t play him. It’s complicated.”
    “Cheating isn’t complicated,” Jaz offers.
    “I’m not cheating. I’m just trying to balance things out between Noah and my career. The kiss is a non-issue.”
    “Except the whole company knows about it,” Scott says.
    “They’ve already forgotten it,” I say.
    “Please,” Jaz says. “No one forgets something like this. Especially not in a corporate cesspool like yours.”
    “Normally you’d be worried sick about something like this,” Scott says. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m worried about getting sick, standing out here arguing with you in the snow,” I say. “Just go back to whatever it is you guys do during the day.”
    They finish their cigarettes at the same moment and grind them out underfoot. It’s like they rehearse in private to make the simplest things look like choreography.
    “You sure you’re okay?” Jaz asks.
    “Don’t tell me... It seems like a half-life crisis,” I say, trying to smile.
    They try to smile back, but all they can manage is a twitch. Despite their good intentions, they know something went terribly wrong after their party, and now they want me to make things right again. I’ve always been the fixer, sorting things out for them before Mom and Dad found out. The one with a strategy. This time, I’m overwhelmed.
    Finally I explain. “The partnership thing didn’t work out. Baxter told Reuben about the proposal and he figured my priorities had shifted. So he’s sending me to Ottawa on a long-term project.”
    There’s a clash of competing profanity and overlapping dialogue.
    “Noah will freak.”
    “You’ve got to say no.”
    “Screw Reuben. He’s been stringing you along for years.”
    “The whole company’s a hornet’s nest.”
    After the barrage, Scott’s voice emerges, “But she does have a Lexus.”
    “True,” Jaz says, “She can trade it for something cool when she quits.”
    Laughing, they shove each other. Their momentary concern for me seems to have dissipated.
    “Guys, quit it. I’ve got enough trouble today.”
    “That Baxter is the worst of the hornets,” Scott says. “Sorry we invited him Sunday.”
    “Let’s lure him down here,” Jaz suggests to Scott. “Swing him around by his tie.”
    I start backing away. “Don’t talk to anyone else about this. Especially Mom and Dad. Need I remind you what I’ve got on you?”
    Their grins are back and as bright as the snow. “The list is long,” Scott says.
    “I’ll take care of it,” I say. “Go.”
    They look reassured, and I’m strangely reassured, too. It’s nice that I don’t have to spend any Wonder Glass on these two. No matter what’s happened, they accept me as I am.
    Scott pats his jacket, remembering something and comes rushing after me. Giving me a one-armed hug, he presses a bag of cinnamon hearts into my icy hand.

 
     
     
    B ack in my office, I slip on my coat to try and warm up. I’ve checked with Sherri and my e-mail, and all seems quiet. The buzz in the halls is back to its usual level, although I can’t take the comfort in it that I once did.
    Thanks to Wonder Glass, it appears that I’ve salvaged my reputation at NTA. But I’m still stuck with the Ottawa gig—a fact that I need to share with Noah, if he’ll ever talk to me again. The cinnamon hearts on my desk remind me that I’m going to have to call him today to wish him a Happy Valentine’s Day. I’ll ask to see him tonight,