oblivious. It was everything Peter was, everything that was wrong with this
town, all rolled into one flashing, destructive, mindless instant. Nitrovex, science, stupidity. One big, unmistakable explosive metaphor, a life scattered apart as surely as the bent wire and broken glass that littered the gym floor.
Worthless, irreparable, and who would want to bother fixing it, anyway?
It was over, all of it—the scholarship, art school, the dance, Peter. All her hopes gone. She'd do her time, say hi in the hallways, be a good little girl, do her homework and get through school, and then she was gone. College, a commune,
the moon, wherever, it didn't matter.
Kicking a piece of glass with her foot, she walked quickly to the back of the
gym, bumping through students who were trying not to make eye contact. The tears flowed easily now, heartbreak giving way to anger and indignation, and she
let them run. She didn't care. Let someone else clean up this mess. She pushed
through the metal doors at the back of the gym.
She was as good as gone. Years of Golden Grove frustration and
manipulating parents and Peter and worthless, meaningless art—all behind her.
Once spring was here, once that diploma was in her hand she was leaving Golden Grove. Forever.
Chapter Eight
Present Day
Kate turned off the engine to her yellow Bug which she'd parked in a visitor space next to the main entrance at Nitrovex Chemical Corporation. This was it.
Fresh start, Monday morning, time to get down to business. No distractions.
Game time.
The flat tire was still full that morning. Carol called it a miracle. Kate called
it Carol looking up online how to deflate a car tire so she'd have to take a ride
with the handsome man next door.
She had to admit, though, she'd slept better than she had in months, which surprised her. She'd expected after all the ups and downs and her drive with Peter that her mind wouldn't be able to shut off. But it only took a minute or two of staring at the angled ceiling of her old room for her half-open eyes to close and
her mind to drift off into a solid, long sleep.
She got out of her car and retrieved her briefcase. Deep breath. You've done
your homework. Put the past few days—and the past—behind you. This is what
you really came here for, remember?
She straightened a crease in her gray business skirt, then checked her
reflection in the window of the car. Hair up, all in place, and proper makeup. Not too strong, very professional. She nodded, pleased with herself, remembering what had gotten her here. She was good at what she did, wasn't she?
The entrance to the Nitrovex main office was bright and airy and could just
as easily be in a Chicago-suburb office park. Tall, thin windows were flanked by
birch trim. It almost reminded her of her downtown office.
“Miss Brady?” A slim older woman in a trim business outfit approached her,
hand outstretched.
“Yes,” Kate returned, surprised that she was recognized.
The woman smiled. “I'm Sandy. Mr. Wells is almost ready to see you.”
“I know I'm early.”
“That's quite alright. You can have a seat here in the reception area. There's
coffee there in the alcove.” She was pointing to a neatly trimmed waiting area with similar light woodwork and aluminum-framed chairs.
She hadn't waited more than a few minutes when a booming voice caromed
down the hallway. “That'll be fine, Jim. Just tell them to up it by ten percent.”
A man in his late sixties strolled toward her wearing a seed-corn hat and jeans. A paunchy stomach hung over a big-buckled belt. Mr. Wells was just as she remembered, although a lot grayer and a little paunchier.
