Part 50 (1/2)
He was looking for her. Another lurch, with a tingle this time, but Quintessa shoved it aside. She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. ”Lieutenant Daniel Avery. Whatever brings you to Filene's better blouses?”
”My mom's birthday.” Dan rubbed the back of his neck and eyed the clothing racks like a fleet of enemy vessels. ”I tried to bribe Lillian to do my shopping for me, but she refused. Some sister. Told me you'd help me find something.”
Quintessa loved her roommate's forthright nature. ”Does the bribe apply to me too?”
He didn't smile. He rarely did, and she didn't think she'd ever heard him laugh, but his dark eyes twinkled. A no-nonsense man, but not humorless. ”I imagine Filene's disapproves of employees taking bribes.”
”I'll settle for the commission.” s.h.i.+fting her thoughts to her former Sunday school teacher, Quintessa contemplated the summer blouses. ”Let's see. Your mother is about Lillian's size and coloring.”
”Plumper and grayer.”
No wonder the man was still a bachelor. ”We would never say that here at Filene's. She's more mature.”
”I'd hope so. Raising the seven of us, she's earned her gray.”
Quintessa smiled and flipped through the blouses. Mrs. Avery handled the business end of her husband's boatyard, and she was neither frilly nor frumpy.
”How about this?” Quintessa held up a tailored cream blouse with a brown yoke and short brown sleeves. An embroidered green vine with delicate yellow flowers softened the border between cream and brown.
”I'll take it.”
”Let's see what else we have.”
”Why?” Dan gestured to the blouse. ”Is it her size?”
”Yes.”
”Do you think she'll like it?”
”Well, yes, but-”
”I'll take it.”
The man certainly knew his mind. One of many things she found attractive about him. ”All right then.”
Quintessa took the blouse to the cash register and rang up the purchase. ”How are things at the Anti-Submarine Warfare Unit?”
One dark eyebrow lifted, and he pulled out his wallet. ”We're making progress, but personally, I want to get back out to sea.”
”That's where the excitement is.”
”And the real work. We finally have convoys along the East Coast, and we've pretty much driven the U-boats away. But they're back to their old hunting grounds in the North Atlantic, and they're wreaking havoc in the Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico. The battle's constantly changing, and we have to stay on top of it.”
Quintessa focused on making change. Concentration was always difficult when Dan Avery spoke about the war or s.h.i.+ps or the Navy. Pa.s.sion lit the strong lines of his face and animated his firm mouth. If only he'd remove his white officer's cap and run his hand through his wavy black hair. The wildness of it.
She puffed out a breath. ”Here's your change. Let me wrap that for you.”
”Very well.” He slipped the coins in the pocket of his white trousers and glanced at his wrist.w.a.tch.
Quintessa gritted her teeth as she pleated the tissue paper inside the box. What was wrong with her? She'd always been drawn to men who showered her with starry-eyed adoration. Now she was drawn to a man who looked right through her as if she had nothing of substance to stop his gaze.
Shame shriveled up inside her. How could she blame him? He had to know she'd come to Boston to throw herself at his younger brother Jim-who turned out to be in love with her best friend, Mary Stirling. Dan had also been in Boston when Quintessa was dating Clifford White-who turned out to be married. Surely Dan saw her as a silly, selfish woman with poor judgment.
He'd be right.
She worked up a smile and presented him with the wrapped package. ”Here you go. Thank you for your purchase.”
”And thank you for your help. I'm sure Mom will love it.” He tipped his cap to her and strode away.
Just as well. She needed to set her head on straight before she started another romance anyway. The past year had turned her topsy-turvy.
Miss Doyle arrived to relieve Quintessa for her lunch break, but Quintessa headed up to the offices on the seventh floor instead. Her former boss, Mr. Garrett, had retired last week, and she'd only briefly met his replacement, Mr. Young.
First she slipped into the restroom, powdered her nose, freshened her lipstick, and straightened her chic golden-brown suit jacket. She smiled at her reflection. Pretty and feminine, but smart and professional. Perfect for this meeting.
The business offices buzzed with a tantalizing sense of purpose. Mr. Young's office door stood open, and she lightly rapped on the doorjamb.
Her boss raised his salt-and-pepper head, grinned at her, and stood to shake her hand. ”Miss Beaumont, isn't it? Yes, yes. I don't have the final sales figures for July, but you're in line to be one of the top salesgirls again. A true a.s.set to Filene's.”
An excellent start. ”Thank you, Mr. Young.”
He crossed his arms over his charcoal-gray suit. ”What can I do for you today?”
”I wanted to speak with you about the next step in my training program.”
”Training?” He narrowed one eye. ”You're the last person who needs sales training.”
A sick feeling settled in her belly. Hadn't Mr. Garrett told Mr. Young why she was here? ”Mr. Garrett hired me to work here in the business offices, but-”
”You're a secretary?”
Somehow Quintessa maintained her friendly professional smile. ”No, sir. I have a bachelor's degree in business. Mr. Garrett wanted to give me a year of sales experience before starting here. He felt it was important for his a.s.sistant-”
”a.s.sistant?” Mr. Young winced as if he had a toothache. ”That might have been Mr. Garrett's plan, but I just hired a man. These offices are no place for a young lady.”
”Unless she's a secretary.”
”Yes, I'm glad you understand.” His face brightened. ”Besides, you're excellent at sales. Why would we waste your talents on boring old numbers and paperwork? And why would we hide that pretty face of yours behind office doors?”
A pretty face. That's all she was. Only good for decoration.
”Now, off you go.” Mr. Young set his hand on her shoulder and guided her out his office door. ”That's a good girl. Go make Filene's proud.”
Quintessa trudged down the hallway. She'd come to Boston for nothing. She'd worked for her degree for nothing. Lord, what's the reason for all this? What do you want me to do?
Patriotic posters by the elevator reminded employees to put part of their paychecks into war bonds. The nation was at war, and everyone was working together. Her roommates Mary Stirling and Yvette Lafontaine worked at the Boston Navy Yard, where American wars.h.i.+ps were built and repaired. Her other roommate, Lillian Avery, worked as a pharmacist, freeing men to fight.