Marry in Haste

“It’s gone.” Abby looked around their office anyway.

Barbara clicked a button on the tape recorder and took off her headphones. “What do you mean, it’s gone?”

“I can’t find it. I’m supposed to order sandwiches.”

Barbara got up from her desk. “Nancy, you’ve got that deli number, don’t you?”

Nodding, Nancy flipped through her own file. “I’ll call in the order, but which assortment?”

The three women stared at each other. Valerie’s Rolodex contained personal information about everyone who did, or had done, business with Parker Laird.

“Who’s in the meeting?” Barbara asked.

“Well, Diamond Don.” Abby tried to remember the rest, but her growing panic wiped their names from her mind.

“So we’ll have at least one roast beef,” Nancy murmured. “I thought I saw a woman in a red suit go by.”

Fighting to control her runaway emotions, Abby nodded.

“That’ll be the corporate lawyer handling the El Bahar setup. And I saw Jay...” Barbara looked off into space. “It’s probably the same bunch who met last Monday.”

Nancy nodded. “I’ll order the same sandwich platter.”

“Make sure Diamond Don’s roast beef is rare,” Barbara reminded her.

“Gotcha.”

Breathing easier, Abby leaned against the file cabinet. “Thanks.” Only now would she admit to herself that she’d been afraid Nancy and Barbara wouldn’t support her. If they hadn’t been so helpful, Abby might have done something stupid like interrupt the meeting to ask Parker what kind of sandwiches to order.

Looking distracted, Barbara walked into Valerie’s office. Abby followed her and watched as Barbara looked in all the same places Abby had.

Nancy appeared in the doorway a few moments later. “Find it?”

“No, and I don’t think we’re going to,” Abby said, a queasiness settling in her stomach.

Barbara looked at her. “You think Valerie took it with her?” she asked bluntly.

Abby sank onto the desk chair. “Don’t you?”

“Why would she do that?” Nancy protested. “It doesn’t make any sense. She knows we’ll need her notes to—oh.”

She and Barbara exchanged a look and Abby knew they were remembering their conversation in the ladies’ room—the one about Abby failing. She was remembering it, too.

By taking the old Rolodex, with its years’ worth of notes and observations, Valerie had seen to it that Abby couldn’t possibly slip seamlessly into her place. All Parker’s hotel preferences, special instructions, favorite restaurants and the wait staff in those restaurants, even who took what in his or her coffee and names of spouses and children—all the little details that contributed to an extra edge in Parker’s business dealings were in that Rolodex.

“I don’t suppose any of the information was computerized?” Abby asked.

Both women shook their heads.

Think, Abby commanded herself, though she wanted to shriek—preferably at Valerie. “Then we’ll have to recreate Valerie’s notes.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Staring at her toes as they dug into the carpet, Abby swiveled her chair from side to side. “The thing of it is,” she began with elaborate casualness, “not having the information in Valerie’s files makes us all look bad—including Valerie.”

“How do you figure that?” There was a belligerent defensiveness in Nancy’s voice.

Barbara was silent and Abby guessed that she was figuring things out for herself.

“I’ve only been working in this department since March and you’ve been here how long?”

“Three years.” Nancy tilted her chin up. “So what?”

“I know you’ve worked here longer.” Abby looked at Barbara, who crossed her arms. “Naturally, Mr. Laird expects you both to know more about the routine than I do, because if you haven’t learned anything after working here all those years...” She allowed her voice to trail off as Barbara and Nancy exchanged looks.

“We’d look either stupid or lazy.” Nancy propped her hand on her hip and shook her head in disgust. “So how does that make Valerie look bad?”

“Because she hired us,” Barbara answered.

“And because she’s the manager,” Abby added. “In the management course I’m taking, we learned about delegating and about making provisions for when you’re out of the office. That way, everything functions smoothly. Did you know that there isn’t a Policy and Procedure manual?”

“There doesn’t have to be,” Nancy said. “The policy is to do what we’re told. The procedure to do it as fast as possible.”

Barbara laughed, but Abby didn’t. “What if Valerie doesn’t have the Rolodex, or what if she decides she likes Greece so much that she doesn’t want to come back?” Abby didn’t wait for a response. Besides, everyone knew Valerie would be back. “I’m turning my notes into a manual so one of you can take over in case I’m not here.”

By the time she finished speaking, both women were nodding in agreement.

“I’ve made my own notes,” Nancy offered, with the first genuine smile she’d directed toward Abby since Valerie had announced that Abby would be her replacement. “I’m the one who usually makes the phone calls.”

“Great.” Abby beamed at her.

“I know a thing or two,” Barbara added. “I’ll start a file.” She headed toward her office, then stopped and glanced back at Abby. “I really hate looking incompetent.”

“Of course, we’ll be making Valerie look good, too,” Nancy grumbled. “And it was mean of her to take the Rolodex.”

“Maybe she didn’t do it on purpose,” Abby said.

Both women gave her a look.

“And maybe she did.” Abby grinned and they all shared a laugh.

Before following Nancy back through the connecting door, Barbara pointed to one of the black boxes. “Is this box sorted?”

“Yes.” Abby hadn’t wanted to mention the pile of work. If she hadn’t had to stop and prepare for the meeting, she would have distributed it before now. “Could you use someone from the typing pool downstairs? With Valerie gone, we’ve effectively had our work force cut by twenty-five percent. I don’t want to get behind.”

“Good idea.” Barbara scooped up the pile of papers. “If we nab some leftover sandwiches, Nancy and I can stay through lunch and have typing work ready by one-thirty.”

Abby nodded, grimacing as a thought occurred to her. “What kind of sandwich does Mr. Laird like? I didn’t even think to ask.”