As Emma and I ran the next morning, I thought about my “reading.” Or at least the things Esmeralda had said before she went into her trance and started chanting camp songs. I’d been challenged by the partners at the law firm that I wasn’t strong enough. I’d had coworkers take my prime cases in the guise of helping out, then when the partners praised them in our weekly meetings, realized that somehow they’d become first chair on a case I’d brought to the firm. After the last incident I’d stormed into my mentor’s office and listed out all the inequities I’d had to face during my tenure. The woman smiled and nodded during my tirade.
“I wondered when you’d see what was happening.” Her words stung. Had I been blind or na?ve, allowing my peers to step over me and expecting someone else to stand up for my interests? She poured me another cup of coffee. “The only one who is looking out for you in this world is you. The other associates understand that. The partners want what’s best for the firm. You need to stand for what’s best for you.”
Thinking back over the last few years, I realized I’d changed my pattern, along with the rest of my life. Today I wouldn’t roll like a well-worn tire. I’d do what I wanted, when I wanted. Now, all I had to do was figure out what it was I wanted. Crap, I sounded like a case study for all those self-help books I stocked. After the local history and tourist books, the “charm books” I called them, I sold more self-help tomes than any other specific category. How to find your Zen. How to raise a normal teenager. How to get that next promotion. Everyone wanted the easy answer. Bless the midday talk shows.
Maybe there was one that addressed my problems. Like How to Grow a Backbone.
By the time we’d returned home and I’d showered, my mood was less than cheerful. Typically my run cleared my mind of all the doubts I carried around. Today, it had added to them.
I let Emma out to the yard, checked on her food and water, then power-walked into the shop, determined to seek out a book that could help me find my inner goddess.
Toby looked up as I entered the shop. He’d been reading the newspaper and the shop was empty, a typical early morning shift. “You know you’re off today, right?”
I stepped over to the counter. “Can’t a girl get a coffee without getting the third degree?”
“A girl, sure. You, on the other hand, must have a reason to leave your cozy house before noon.” He started a skinny mocha for me. “Everything okay?”
When Toby’s gaze didn’t meet my eyes, I started doubting my impulse. I should have waited until tomorrow, and no one would have been the wiser.
After pulling off the two psychobabble books on the shelf that dealt with displaying confidence in relationships and finding your Zen, I glanced at my watch. Too early to call Amy for lunch, but I could stop by on my way home and visit for a few minutes. Besides, Greg hadn’t called last night, so I was beginning to think that Darla’s nose for news had been spot-on with Kent’s murder.
“You want this to go?” Toby glanced at the books under my arm. “You doing some light reading today?”
I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “Let’s just say, I’ve been told I roll too fast when challenged. I figure learning some new tricks might not be a bad idea.”
“Jackie been giving you trouble again?” He poured my mocha in a travel mug and handed it to me. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are. And I know one more person who’d say the same thing.”
“I love that author.” Leslie from the bank tapped the top book titled Be a Tiger, Not a Kitty Cat, or what I would subtitle, “How to Be a Predatory Animal in the Office.” “We had the author come in for a bank conference I went to last summer. She’s a pistol. Doesn’t take crap from anyone.”
The lady standing next to her nodded. “She told her manager to get his stuff together or she was reporting him to the corporate office. She got fired and sued the company. Then she wrote the book. I think she speaks all over the nation.”
Great, I’d run into a true believer. I smiled. “Thanks for the reference. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
The other woman shook her head. “I hated the book. I guess I’m just not that type of person. I’m not someone who would get in anyone’s face.”
“Anne, you’re too nice. You should have sued Kent last summer when he started hitting on you.” Leslie leaned closer to the table. “He was a pig. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but I swear to God, the man should have been shot years ago.”
“Leslie.” Anne’s face scrunched together, and I could see she was fighting tears. The woman’s blond hair was cut in a cute pixie. Not the redhead I’d seen Kent sucking face with in the car at the beach. The man was a pig, Leslie had gotten that part right.
“Two large coffees and two slices of that black forest cheesecake.” Leslie put her hand on her friend’s arm. “I’ll get Anne settled at a table and be right back to pay.”
Toby watched the two walk away. “I wonder if Greg knows about her. Man, that guy made me look like a choirboy.”
“I take it you didn’t know about his multiple friends.” I kept my voice low and watched as Leslie and Anne argued quietly at the far table. “She doesn’t look like Kent’s type.”