The Checklist by Addie Woolridge (color ebook reader TXT) 📗

“Don’t leave me,” Dylan said, reaching for Stacy’s arm as she turned to go.

“I have to get me one of those,” she said, dodging her friend’s grasp and pointing to Dylan’s drink. “And look, the family is here. I’m just gonna say hi.”

“You are the worst,” Dylan hissed as her friend trotted away.

“Don’t I know it. Luck,” Stacy called over her shoulder, waving at Dylan’s parents, Neale, and the Robinsons.

Dylan risked a fleeting glance over at Mike, who had been momentarily sidetracked by another guest. Weighing her options, she decided she would rather face the uncomfortable truth head-on than wait for it to come to her. After all, Stacy was right. She had done all of this for him, and whether or not he forgave her, she could leave here with her head high, knowing she’d made good on her word.

Pulling her shoulders back and her chin up, she grabbed the hem of her dress with one hand and her champagne with the other, making her way toward him. Mike nodded to the guest and turned, his expression inscrutable as he righted himself. Dylan’s heart completed a backflip that would have landed her full marks at a gymnastics competition.

“What are you doing here?” an angry voice cawed in her left ear, causing her to choke on a fortifying sip of champagne. Whipping her head away from the hot sound, she staggered back before turning to face the speaker.

Jared stood in front of her, his stocky frame humming with rage. If Dylan hadn’t been so shocked by his unexpected appearance, she would have found the sweat running down his faux tan funny. As it was, seeing his Coppertone failure wasn’t exactly the good time she had planned for the evening.

“Excuse me?” Dylan said, attempting to regain her composure.

“You were fired. Now you are wandering around Kaplan’s party. Leave.”

“It’s technically Crescent’s party.”

“Bullshit.”

“What’s bullshit is you firing me from a contract you couldn’t fire me from,” Dylan said, surprised by her own directness. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Mike stop walking toward her, his head cocked to one side as he watched Jared rock forward on his heels.

“That,” Jared sputtered, “is not true.”

“That is not what Steve said when I went in to clean out my office.”

“I don’t know who this Steve is, but if you aren’t out of here in ten seconds, I’ll get security.”

“What are you doing here?” Dylan said, ignoring the threat.

“I was personally invited by John Kaplan.” Jared puffed up at the mention of the company chairman’s name. “God forbid he see you. I’m going to do you a favor. Salvage your career and get the hell out of here before he realizes—”

“Dylan!” Tim’s tenor carried from across the hall as he hustled around the room. Steve and a couple of polished individuals Dylan didn’t recognize trailed behind him, cocktails in hand, jokes written on their body language.

“Hi, Tim.” Dylan waved. She turned around to face Jared, who had gone pale at the sight of Tim’s joy.

“Isn’t this just fantastic? It’s even better than what I envisioned.” Tim’s pure enthusiasm for the project had not waned. He stretched out his arms for a hug.

“It is. I’m blown away by everyone’s hard work,” Dylan said, dipping in for a quick embrace.

“I wish I were a kid just so I could experience this through their eyes.” Tim sounded choked up.

“Dylan, this is fantastic,” Steve said as he reached the small group, giving her a side squeeze. Jared squeaked and rocked back on his heels. Steve paused momentarily, but when Jared didn’t explain himself, he continued, gesturing to the man next to him. “Have you met John Kaplan?”

A big blue whale reflected back at her from a pair of wire-rimmed glasses that had fallen out of fashion roughly ten years ago. They were set atop a slightly crooked nose attached to a face with a ring of peppered gray hair around an otherwise completely bald head. The entire picture was that of a very rich, very friendly monk. Not exactly the perfectly attired, reclusive partner she had imagined.

Fighting to keep the surprise out of her tone, Dylan extended her hand. “I haven’t had the pleasure. So nice to meet you, Mr. Kaplan.”

“Pleasure is all mine. And please, call me John,” he said, flashing a set of incredibly white and uncomfortably perfect teeth. “Steve tells me you have been doing some fantastic work up here.”

“A regular one-woman force of nature.” Tim smiled, taking a sip of his drink.

“That just warms my heart. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a young lady with such exquisite taste in dresses,” said the woman standing next to John. Extending a hand to Dylan, she said, “Estelle Kaplan.” If John was the stuff of legend, his mother was the legend itself, and her neck-to-floor black beaded dress looked like it. Dylan smiled and sent a silent thank-you to Deep and her degree in fashion merchandising.

“She is always in that office hammering out idea after idea, getting Tim and me in line, despite our best efforts. Alone, no less.” Steve grinned as he said this.

Next to him, Jared made additional sputtering sounds, causing Tim to pause midsip and begin an appraisal of him that read distaste when Jared switched to heavy breathing.

“Jared, is that you?” John smiled at him as if he was just noticing the man.

After wiping his hands on his suit pants, Jared extended a meaty fist to John. “Yes, Mr. Kaplan. So good to see you again after last year’s managers’ summit. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Oh! You work at Kaplan,” Tim said, taking in Jared’s face, which was slowly transitioning from red to deep mauve. Holding out his hand, he said, “Tim Gunderson, CEO of Technocore.”

Jared’s eyes looked like a cartoon character’s, popping out of his head as Tim mentioned his name. When Jared didn’t move, Tim tried again, earnestly asking, “Are you in the Houston office?”

Jared looked like he might begin to foam at