Larkspur Dreams - By Anita Higman Page 0,27

corporate network. You must be very proud to have such talented people working here.”

Zeta made all sorts of movements with her mouth. First a look of shock, followed by a glimmer of revulsion. After a brief sputter of confusion, she settled on what all big shots liked to land on. Awareness. “Of course, Jamison is very good. I always keep alert of new talent.” Jamison then shook hands with Zeta, said something miraculously quick-witted, and walked away a new man.

Life was full of surprises. At least it was while standing near Lark. Maybe Everett really needed to just buy a ticket and watch from the stands. But for now, his mouth felt like paper. The rough parchment kind. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Root beer, please.” Lark smiled. “Lots of ice.”

“Oh, icy root beer sounds so yummy,” Zeta said. “But I’m afraid I’m dieting. Definition: eating flavored air.”

Zeta released one of her laughs, and Everett willed himself not to cringe. In fact, he decided to take the high road and smile at her.

“Nothing for me.” Zeta shot Everett a cagey look.

“Okay.” He noticed when Zeta opened her mouth, her bright red lipstick stuck to her canine teeth. He decided not to take that one any further in his mind.

Everett tromped away, deliberately straightening his shoulders. Great. I get the evil eye for the kind act of offering a cool beverage. That’s Zeta. The woman who had made his professional life miserable. Definition: to be made exceedingly uncomfortable. Kind of like trying to hug a porcupine.

Somebody he knew said, “Hey. How’s it going?” Everett was about to tell him, but the guy just kept on trucking toward the food tables. Oh, well. What did he expect when he hadn’t spent any real time chewing the fat with these people before?

When Everett had finally made it through the drink line, he stood there for a moment observing Lark from a distance. A few days before he wouldn’t have thought to leave a fellow human being alone with Zeta, but somehow he knew all would be well. Lark could handle herself better than he could. She seemed like some elfin creature from those animated movies he watched as a kid. Lovely. Mischievous. Magical. Maybe he was good at romantic feelings when he had something to work with.

Uh-oh. Why did Zeta look so ecstatic, and why was Lark hugging her again? Zeta appeared to be crying. What in the world was happening over there? Should he barge in, or let the scene play itself out?

Everett took a sip of his cold sparkling water. He wished he could pour it over his head instead. He hadn’t realized until now how exhausted he felt from worrying about losing his biggest client as well as his big salary. “The more one gains, the more one has to lose,” his father used to say. And he certainly had a lot to lose.

But no matter the status of his coffers, he’d had about enough of Zeta. Surely he could express his views without getting fired. Some way to keep her from reducing him to a sniveling fool. He strode toward them as his hot hands gripped the cold glasses. Warning bells went off in his head. The pile of bills at home needing to be paid came into his mind’s eye. You’re a Christian. Don’t say anything rash. Nothing you’ll regret.

The second Everett arrived in their midst, Zeta threw her arms around him. His arms rose in the air to keep the drinks from spilling. The expression on his face must have looked peculiar. He would give a sizable chunk of his income to know exactly what Lark had done.

“I guess I’d better explain,” Zeta said as she disengaged. “I’ve wanted to quit my job for ages. I already had my resignation written, but I just wasn’t quite ready to mail it. All month I’ve had confirmation after confirmation. And now Lark has just given me yet another one. It’s finally time to leave this miserable job and live my dream. So I quit.” Zeta revved up her machine-gunfire laugh again, and Everett thought it was the most inspiring and lyrical sound he’d ever heard.

Twelve

Amidst the shock of it all, Everett lost the motor control in his fingers. The drinks fell out of his hands and crashed to the floor, sending wetness and shards of glass across the carpet.

Suddenly, men in crisp, white outfits came to his aid. They seemed to emerge right out of the mirrored walls and