The Man Upstairs

WHEN DENA ARRIVED at work later that morning, Greg Watkins told her that Jack Kramer wanted to see her. Her heart beat faster in anticipation of the reason she’d been summoned to the creative director’s office. Always the optimist, she expected it to be good news.

“Dena, come in and sit down,” he said when he saw her, gesturing to the Scandinavian-style chair next to his desk. “I wanted to tell you how pleased I am with your work so far. You’re doing a fine job here at Delaney.”

She relaxed and smiled. “Thank you. That’s good to hear.”

“I think you’re going to be a good fit for Delaney, and what I really like is that you’re a team player. That’s exactly what we need here. It’s the reason the Aaron Jorgenson benefit was a success.”

“I’m happy I was able to do my part.”

“As were so many generous people,” he said, obviously pleased. “That’s why we’ve decided to do another fund-raiser. Has Greg told you about our next project?”

She shook her head and he continued. “We’re going to put together a calendar featuring distinguished alumni from the state’s high schools…a sort of look at the stars of Minnesota. Each month will feature a different celebrity.” He went on to name several prominent public figures who’d already agreed to be featured on the calendar. Included were a senator, a comedienne and two film stars.

“It sounds like a wonderful idea for a fund-raiser,” Dena said. “Calendars are always popular.”

He nodded in agreement. “Delaney Design will be donating the graphic designs, and we have several vendors, including a printer, who have offered to donate their services and supplies at either a reduced fee or for no charge at all. That means we should be able to put the calendar together at a very low cost.”

She nodded. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. I’d be willing to volunteer my evenings.”

He held up his hand. “No need for you to do that. I’ve already had a couple of designers offer to do the layout. But I do have another way you can help me.”

Disappointment welled in her throat. So she hadn’t been called into his office because of her performance on the job.

He leaned forward, his arms on his desk. “Here’s the deal. We have most of the people we’ll be featuring on the calendar, but everyone agrees that it’s important to have the person who represents January be someone special. That’s why we’d like to have Quinn Sterling. Not only would he make a great winter picture with the hockey uniform and the skates and the whole bit, but he also attended the same high school as Aaron Jorgenson. He’s the perfect choice for the first month on the calendar, don’t you agree?” He looked at her with a grin that said he was very pleased with himself.

By now the lump that had started to fall in Dena’s stomach the minute she had heard Quinn Sterling’s name had settled like a brick in a pond. “You want me to ask Quinn Sterling if he’ll pose for the calendar?”

“He is a friend of yours, isn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say he’s my friend…” She trailed off uneasily. “We live in the same building, but to be honest, I hardly ever see him. Apparently, during the hockey season, players are on the road a lot. Is it even going to be possible to arrange a shoot with the kind of schedule he has?”

His smile faded. “Are you saying you don’t want to help with the project?” The warmth that had oozed out of him only minutes ago was replaced by a coolness that caused Dena to shift uneasily. “You don’t have to be a part of this project. This isn’t officially a Delaney Design endeavor. It’s strictly volunteer.”

Her palms grew damp. She wanted to say, I think I’ll pass on this one, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not when two other designers had already committed to the project.

“Oh, no, I want to help,” she quickly reassured him. “I’m just trying to put this together in my mind. One of the concerns I have would be the use of his photo. I assume the professional athletic leagues like the NHL have contracts with their players that might make it impossible for us to photograph him in his uniform and put it on a product we want to sell.” It was her only hope and it was quickly dashed.

“Legal’s already checked into it. All the appropriate forms that need to be signed are in here.” He slid a manila folder across the desk in her direction. “We’ve worked with athletic organizations before. In fact, one of our accounts is for the Cougar bobblehead dolls.”

“We’re doing hockey player bobbleheads?”

“A limited number. That’s why I’m not concerned about this calendar licensing. Basically all you need to do is get Quinn Sterling to agree to the photo shoot, and then you can consider your job done. Greg Watkins will take it from there. So what do you say? Can I count on you?”

As much as Dena wanted to say no, she answered, “Yes, you can.”

His face softened into a grin. “Thanks, Dena. This project is very important to me. I won’t forget that you are one of the reasons it’s going to be a success.”

She smiled weakly and mumbled an appropriate response, hoping she hadn’t made a promise she couldn’t deliver. She reached for the folder. “What’s the time frame on this?”

“We’re hoping to get the calendar to the printer by the end of May, but we also know that scheduling the photo shoots is going to be tricky, especially when we’re dealing with celebrities. It’s all in there,” he said, nodding to the folder in her hands.

She didn’t open it, but said, “So, then, you’d like me to talk to Quinn Sterling when?”

“As soon as possible. You should be able to reach him at the Cougar main office if not at your apartment building.” He picked up the newspaper that had been on the side of his desk and said, “According to the sports page, the Cougars are in town this week.”

Dena could have said, Oh, Quinn Sterling’s in town all right. He has a black eye and a dangerously attractive smile. She simply nodded and said, “I’ll do my best.”

THAT EVENING a letter from Maddie was waiting for her when she arrived home from work. As she read the newlywed’s note about her honeymoon and subsequent move to France, Dena was filled with a longing for her college days when she and Maddie had been the best of friends.

They’d been as different as night and day—Maddie being a social butterfly and Dena a studious bookworm. Maddie wore her emotions on her sleeve, but Dena guarded hers carefully. She did such a thorough job of keeping them close that many people thought she lacked feelings. Maddie knew better. They’d stay up until the wee hours of the morning sharing confidences.

It was at college that Dena had discovered what it was like to have a best friend. Throughout adolescence there had been girls who were friendly to her, but none who’d ever truly understood her the way Maddie did. Now, as Dena sat in Maddie’s old apartment, holding her words in her hand, she wished that her friend was beside her, giving her moral support. She’d always managed to make life a little easier for Dena, which was exactly what she needed when it came to her assignment involving Quinn Sterling.

But Maddie wasn’t there, and this was one job Dena was going to have to tackle by herself. She went over to her desk and pulled out a sheet of stationery to write another note. If he wasn’t home when she knocked on his door, she’d leave him a note.

“Could you please call me when you have a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you. Your neighbor, Dena Bailey.” She spoke the words as she penned them. Then she put her phone number at Delaney Design under her name, thinking it was better to keep things on a business level.

As much as she wanted to get things settled, she was a bit relieved when he wasn’t at home and she could shove the note beneath his door. She was on her way back down to her apartment when she saw Krystal Graham coming up the stairs. They met at the second-floor landing.

The redhead looked up toward the third floor and asked, “Were you looking for Quinn?”

“Yes, but he’s not in.” Dena saw no point in pretending.

“Now, why am I not surprised?” Krystal drawled. “I don’t know why he just doesn’t move a bed over to the ice rink.” She shoved one hand to her hip. “You know, as cute as he is, sometimes I think it would have been better if Leonie had rented that third floor apartment to another woman.”

It certainly would have eliminated the predicament Dena found herself in at the moment. She wasn’t sure what kind of a response the younger woman expected from her and was relieved when Krystal continued.

“Hey…have you eaten dinner?”

“Not yet, but—”

“Great. You can have some of my pizza. I haven’t eaten since noon today and I’m starving. If you haven’t tried that little place around the corner, it’s really good and they deliver.” Before Dena could utter a single word of protest, the stylist had pulled her cell phone from her purse and speed-dialed the pizzeria. “What do you like on yours?”

Dena wanted to say she didn’t have time for pizza, that she’d brought work home and she needed to get it done, but the look on Krystal’s face had her saying, “Mushrooms and onions?”

“Great! Me, too,” she said with a gamin grin. “What about some Italian sausage?”

Dena nodded. “And some green olives.”

“Green olives on half,” she repeated into the phone. “And extra cheese.” When she’d finished placing the order, she snapped the phone shut and said, “This is so cool! I was hoping I’d run into you so we could have some time for girl talk. I’m sure Maddie’s told you that 14 Valentine Place is absolutely the best place for women our age to live?”

“She did brag about it a bit,” Dena admitted.

“She must have told you about watching movies in Leonie’s great room?”

Dena knew that the large living area off the kitchen was what everyone referred to as the house’s great room. Leonie had told her that it was a communal area for the tenants to use. So far Dena hadn’t taken her up on her invitation, preferring to watch television in her own apartment.

“One thing about Leonie is that she likes having people in the house,” Krystal told her. “That’s why she converted this place into apartments. You don’t need to worry that you’re imposing on her privacy if you go downstairs. She loves having us girls around.”