Page 17 of A Family Affair: The Vow
Hmmm.
So, back to Leah’s sister... Maybe we should give her time to settle in, see if she comes around.
Common courtesy and a small show of kindness is all a person wants.
True.
I heard she went to ND Manufacturing the other day, asked for Vic.
Vic Tramont? Oh boy. She better not get any ideas because that boy will spin her around so fast, she’ll never know what happened.
And when he’s done, he’ll smile, say it wasn’t her, that it’s him… And you can’t be mad at that man. He’s just too darn nice.
No, indeed not. In fact, everybody knows spending time with Vic is never going to get you anywhere, but the lines to spend that time with him are still long.
Long and getting longer...
Sure they are, because every woman’s hoping she’ll be the one to change his mind. My Sadie thought she might be the one. But…
Sadie? A man does not want a woman rearranging his kitchen cupboards after the third date. A raised brow. Or whatever they call it these days.
My Sadie is a good girl. She’s still mooning over him.
Just saying, not happening with that man. And if Rachel Darlington has any ideas about him, even those curves and that big city flare won’t convince him to settle down.
It’s not like she’s staying anyway.
Maybe she’s just looking for a diversion and Vic’s that diversion.
He’s no fool. He likes to be the one in charge, and any woman who can’t see that is the real fool.
Truth.
Pop heard those stories swirling about town, wished the busybodies would stop chattering and speculating, but they wouldn’t. Nope, gossip clung to them like ice on a tree branch. He’d like to think they could find more productive ways to spend their time, but that was like asking a dog to ignore bacon. Not happening, not as long as the dog had a nose, and like those busybodies, they wouldn’t stop the gossip mill until the stories melted like the ice on those tree branches.
And the only way that could happen is if the stories got re-worked and lost their sting because there was no re-working the temperament of a busybody. But if Rachel Darlington left town, the threat was gone. If she stayed and caught the eyeandthe heart of Vic Tramont, would that be a conversation they’d want to spread? Would the busybodies share tidbits of the couple’s happily-ever-after and meant-to-be-together? Pop would bet a pot of basil they would not.
Why did people want to spread news that made another person look bad or tore at the less-than glorious parts of that person? Did jealousy force her ugly face and make accusations that weren’t based on anything other than opinion, or was it insecurity taking hold?
Pop had been walking this earth a lot of years, most of them in Magdalena, and he’d witnessed everything from truth to lies and a few in-betweens. So, what was Rachel Darlington’s tale? The real one, not the hopeful rendition told by her older sister, stuffed with flowery words and enough confection to make a powdered donut? And not the one her parents used to tell that placed the girl on a fifty-foot pedestal. Of course, a person couldn’t listen to Rachel either because she didn’t share much of anything—good, bad, or in-between.
So, what was the truth?Pop had been gnawing on that one since he first heard Rachel was heading back to town. Who was she and what connection did she have to Vic Tramont? No denying those two had been involved in a tango, but when and to what extent remained the mystery. No worries, because Pop would look for the details and he’d employ Lily’s help, place the findings side by side and study them from every angle. The answers would pop out like daffodils in the spring and then he’d figure out what to do with them.
* * *
Rae hadn’t slept welllast night and breakfast had consisted of a half cup of black coffee and three nibbles of toast. Ugh, she did not want to spend one minute more than she had to with Vic Tramont, but it looked like they’d be working together until she got a handle on the business. How long would it take to learn the software system? She knew all about inventory management, asset allocation, and pricing in regard to clothing. The concept was the same, whether she was dealing with a pallet of cashmere sweaters or a bundle of metal bars. Maybe once she figured out the system, she could analyze the process, possibly make improvements on how to organize all the different shapes and sizes of metal so Frank didn’t waste so much time looking for things. Inefficiency wasted time that cost money, and wasn’t the bottom line about the money?
Rae had an eye for cost cutting and waste reduction, and if she could help Leah improve the bottom line, then her sister could do a few things to the house like update the kitchen, the bathrooms, buy a new car. Take that trip to Aruba. Leah deserved an easier life, one that wasn’t filled with constant challenges, and while she’d never complained or mentioned challenges, who wanted to work in an outdated kitchen? No granite, no tile,no thanks. And the bathrooms definitely needed updating. That would be second on a long list of remodeling necessities. Rae pulled her phone out of her back pocket, started a list of projects for the house. What about a new front door? And a—
“So, do you have any idea what Darlington Metals does?”
She jumped, swung around to find Vic Tramont standing in the doorway of her office. The man’s size was intimidating and the unsmiling face? Definitely intimidating. “I didn’t hear you.” Rae shrugged, tapped her pen against her chin and let out a sigh. No sense pretending she understood the inner workings of the company, because other than visiting the candy machines and using the bathrooms, she’d avoided the place. Avoided the dirty work clothes she used to spot in the laundry room and the steel-toed shoes by the back door. In fact, she used to pretend her father had another profession: accountant, salesman, engineer. As for her mother, what child liked to admit that the woman who sewed costumes for the school play knew how to drive a forklift? Not Rae and that’s why she’d created fictional backgrounds for Peg Darlington that included musician, former dancer, and writer. But Vic Tramont knew exactly what Gil and Peg Darlington did and the tone in his voice said he’d also figured out she had no idea.
“Well? How about you tell me the truth and save us both time.” The sigh said he was already annoyed and they’d only started eight minutes ago.
Rae picked up the legal pad from her desk, jotted Darlington Metals across the top. “Truth? All I know is the company buys big pieces of metal from the steel mill and sells it to small manufacturing and construction companies within a hundred miles or so from here. I know we carry all different shapes and sizes and can cut those pieces to the customer’s specifications. We employ six people: my sister, an outside sales rep, Frank the plant manager, a forklift driver to load and unload the trucks, a machinist to do the custom cutting, and a truck driver who makes some of the deliveries.”
“Where’d you get all that? The company website?” The laugh that followed said he was joking, but he must have seen the look on her face because the laughter fizzled. “You got that from the company website?” A shake of his head, a muttered “That’s pathetic.”
