Wild Goose Chase

Inc.

Olivia slid her sunglasses on

to conceal her red, puffy eyes and grabbed the leather-wrapped steering wheel of the candy-apple red Chevy Malibu rental like it was a life preserver. She sucked in a deep breath, exhaled with just as much force, and entered her destination into the car’s navigation system. "Miami, Florida, here I come. No more hormonal sneak attacks. No more hotel room rendezvous. No more swilling cranberry martinis to Van Morrison’s Days Like This—at least with Dezz present. Just serious journalism without the drama."

Setting the cruise control at 70 mph, she cranked up the radio to drown out any thoughts that might try to detour her fresh start. Ironic that Kenny Rogers was belting out his song, The Gambler. His philosophy of knowing when to walk away and when to run was exactly what she needed to hear. Technically, she was driving away, but the message was clear—get as far away from Dezz as humanly possible.

Wild Goose Chase

by

Jan Romes

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Wild Goose Chase

COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Jan Romes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Rae Monet, Inc. Design

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2016

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0735-0

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0736-7

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To my family and friends

who are a constant source of support!

Chapter One

Time off? Olivia Pence stared wide-eyed at her boss. As in vacation? She didn’t mean to come off as flabbergasted, but frankly she was. I save my days for October to take in the fall foliage with my camera.

Magda Mattsin scooted from the high-back leather chair and came around the desk with a fierce eyebrow lifted so high it creased her forehead into an accordion. It wasn’t a suggestion.

Dezz Casey—Olivia’s annoying nemesis slash co-worker slash all-around pain in her butt—scooted his chair closer. He didn’t appear the least bit intimidated by Magda’s cutting glare. I’m with Pence. I want to hold onto my vacation days. He leaned forward. Why are you trying to get us out of the office? Are you having a secret meeting with a potential buyer for the magazine?

If Magda’s demeanor didn’t border on lethal, Olivia would’ve rolled her eyes.

Did I mention vacation? I did not. Magda’s voice increased a hefty octave. "You’ll be on special assignment. And nooooo, she emphasized even louder, I’m not selling Brilliance. The only things I want to unload, she rubbed her temples, are the two of you."

Olivia sat up stick-straight. Dezz, fearless as ever, slouched.

Magda’s chest rose and fell with an exaggerated sigh. I’m the Editor-in-Chief of an awarding-winning publication, not a boxing referee. Taking a few steps toward the ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked Central Park she retraced her steps and bore down on them with an even tighter look of anger. I swear you’re hell-bent on dragging me into the ring. The color in her face heightened from hot pink to very cherry. Your nonstop bickering has affected the dynamics of this office.

Olivia wrung her hands in her lap and looked to the floor, embarrassed. Things between her and Dezz had gotten to the point they couldn’t be in each other’s space without wanting to stick a leg out to trip one another. In turn, they’d made things tense for everyone.

Magda put a hand on her stomach and emitted a drawn out moan. My lunch is sloshing around like high tide, thanks to you knuckleheads. Rivalry in the workplace is to be expected to some degree but you’ve taken it to an unhealthy level. I’m giving you time away to get your heads on straight. If that doesn’t fix the problem, I’ll terminate you without blinking. Have I made myself clear?

Dezz braved a question. Is the time away with pay?

The only way to describe the look Magda gave the dark-haired buffoon was death-ray-eyes. Too bad there was no such thing. Olivia would’ve enjoyed watching Dezz get singed.

With pay, Magda gritted between clenched teeth.

Dezz continued to test the gods. What are we supposed to do while we’re away?

Magda parked her bottom so hard against the edge of the heavy mahogany desk it moved a good inch. I’m getting to that. Her taut expression was replaced with a wicked smile.

Something more unpleasant than getting chewed-out and forced time-away to cool off was about to happen. Olivia could feel it clear to her bone marrow. Magda didn’t want to be a referee yet she was about to ding the bell and declare herself a winner.

I can only allow your absence for two weeks.

Fourteen days? The redundant question was out before Olivia could stop it.

Magda didn’t waver. Exactly fourteen. At that time, you’ll join me in my office with the most dazzling piece of work you’ve ever written.

Dezz laughed in the face of danger. What are we supposed to write about?

Go ahead, Dezz, dig a hole. When Magda kicks you into it, I’ll happily cover you with dirt.

You’re one question away from walking papers, mister. Magda lowered her eyelids so only a smidgen of cold steel blue could be seen. I want you to come up with fourteen serendipitous things to enchant your readers—one amazing thing per day. AAAAND, she stressed so ear-splittingly loud she had to have strained her vocal chords, I WANT YOUR FINDINGS TO BE IN THE FORM OF A TRAVEL DIARY. Reaching for the candy jar at the far end of the desk, she almost lost her balance. When Magda was in a snit, she sucked on peppermint candy. Not meeting their eyes, she took one from the jar but fought with the wrapper. The mint ended up in the trashcan beside the desk. Hooding her eyes again until not even a sliver of pupil showed, the degree of her angst came through as loudly as her voice. If you quarreling brainiacs question me further I’m going to scream until I shatter every window in the building. Magda brought her designer bangle watch into view and tapped its face with her fingernail. I’m sure you have plans for the weekend but I’d put them on hold if I were you. It’s Friday morning and the clock starts now.

Dezz’s mouth twitched with amusement. Just an FYI, Magda, serendipity is a fortunate happenstance or pleasant surprise. You can’t turn over a rock and voila! There it is.

Magda kicked his chair. I loathe you right now, Casey.

Olivia did have plans for the weekend: forty-eight hours of kicking back with a bottle of wine, a good book, and ducking in and out of the shadows of New York with her camera. Writing was her passion and job, but reading and photography relaxed her.

Any more questions?

Only a fool would say yes.

Olivia did have a question but she bit the inside of her lip to keep from asking if she should solely concentrate on serendipity or finish the article involving the endurance needed to run a marathon. Since she valued being employed, she’d give Magda a few days to simmer down and then put it out there via an email.

Dezz started to say something.

Magda shut him down with her deepest glare yet. Don’t even think about it. She vacated her perch, stormed from the office, and rattled the door with a slam.

Olivia’s eyes fluttered closed to block out the nuisance sitting beside her. If she didn’t get a few seconds to settle her own anger, she’d have no choice but to reach over and strangle the jackal.

Can you say meltdown?

Reluctantly, Olivia opened her eyes and sprang from the chair.

The cad with the curly hair mimicked the move.

Olivia was furious. You just had to poke the hornet’s nest until she came out and stung us repeatedly. This is your fault!

My fault? Dezz made the sound of a buzzer going off. Wrong. You’re the one who brought this on, Livvy. It’s been coming since we were in high school.

Exasperation rolled off Olivia in waves and her voice shook as she released the anger she’d stockpiled. You’re an ass; a pompous, spotlight-stealing ass. I worked my tail off in school for me; not to outshine you. I’ve been trying to make a name for myself. I’ve made one all right—quarreling brainiac, according to Magda. She shoulder-bumped the buffoon on her way to the door. My name is Olivia or Liv, not Livvy.

You’re the thief. Every time I step into the limelight you crowd in front of me.

Dezz’s smug expression was smack-worthy. Olivia balled her hands and brought them into view.

"Deny it all you want, Livvy, but we both know you’re an attention-monger."

Olivia scowled hard at the handsome guy who’d once been a puny dork. Dezz now stood six-foot-three and had filled out all over. His chest was broad and the arms and thighs that used to resemble sticks had thickened with muscle. I’m not going to fight about your deluded perspective. Thanks to you, I have a travel diary to write. She huffed a breath of frustration. So help me, Casey, if you cross my path during this assignment I’ll take you down.

Mighty big words from someone who’d need a step-ladder to reach me.

Olivia shot back cocky bastard under her breath. One more smart remark and I’ll get that ladder, and then you’ll be packing your nose with cotton to stop the bleeding.

Dezz broke into a body-shaking laugh. I’m in no danger. You threaten but you don’t have the kahoonies to carry it out. Hell, you catch-and-release mosquitoes. In case you didn’t know, mosquito borne illnesses—namely malaria—are the number one killer of humanity. Yet you let them live. Who does that?

They’re food for frogs. Tadpoles live on thanks to mosquito larvae. It was a ridiculous defense. Even more absurd was the fact she knew that stuff. Stay out of my way.

Be careful what you wish for, Pence. We both know you can’t live without me.

Where do you get these insane ideas? The blue-eyed-gnat was not vital to her existence. If anything, he was detrimental to it by way of her blood pressure. Two weeks without you won’t be a problem. It’ll be a gift.

****

Through the glass windows of Magda’s office Dezz watched Olivia repeatedly hit the down-button for the elevator. If he was standing next to her, he’d point out it only took one push of the button. God he loved messing with Livvy. Some days all it took to fluster her was to grin. They’d had an unspoken competition in high school; ten years later it was still in place. Truthfully, he’d been the architect of the contest. He’d done his best to outdo Olivia as a way to get her attention. All he managed to achieve was to tick her off. Little had changed since those days. When she moved to New York after college, he changed his address to the Big Apple too. It was more than dumb luck that they ended up working together at Brilliance, but that’s what he’d blamed it on. Olivia flat out called him a lying weasel. Since then, he tried to get in her good graces. Although, one-upping her on a regular basis didn’t help matters. Dezz winced. Trying to crack the hard shell of the woman who was five-feet-four-inches of feisty was wearing on him. He winced harder. To everyone else, Olivia Joy Pence was friendly and vibrant. With him, she was a cat with her hair standing on end and claws bared. Essentially, they were a cat and a dog that couldn’t get along. Olivia had summed it up using different imagery however. She’d said, ‘You’re a pair of plaid shorts and I’m a flowered shirt. Separately we’re fine, together, downright gaudy.’

Dezz sat in Magda’s expensive chair and ran his hands over the soft leather. Someday he’d be Editor-in-Chief of his own magazine. He glimpsed Olivia before she stepped into the elevator. Bossing her around would be fun, albeit short-lived fun. If he bought Brilliance, the gorgeous firecracker would explode, toss her company ID on the desk, and detonate her way out the door. Kind of like now, only on a permanent basis.

Something about Olivia had snared him early on and she still had an invisible hold on him. Maybe it was the fire in her eyes when he made her angry, or maybe because she was easy to rile. On a daily basis she’d tell him to jump out of an airplane without a parachute. She accused him of having a fixation for stirring up trouble. He’d volley back a reminder that she had a weird fetish for black pens.

Dezz chuckled his way from Magda’s spacious office and into the dungeon of cubicles.

Jen Talbott rolled her chair into the aisle and made an L on her forehead.

Good one, Jen. The sassy redhead could easily qualify as his evil twin. What he didn’t think of, she did. The only difference between them, she hid behind the façade of goody-two-shoes.

Jen pealed with laughter. This place is going to be dullsville for the next two weeks.

Dezz hit her with a scowl but couldn’t keep it in place. You knew what was going down and failed to tell me? Worse yet, you didn’t say anything to Olivia?

Booyah!

The urge to kill, he jested.

The urge to pee my pants laughing, Jen countered.

Sick.

Dezz grabbed his pouch-type briefcase from the back of his chair and drew the strap across his chest. He homed in on Olivia’s pencil holder containing nothing but black pens and opened his center desk drawer for a handful of blue pens. Out with the black, in with the blue.

She’ll know you did it.

I’ll blame you.

Jen made an innocent face. She trusts me.

Little does she know—

Magda clomped toward them with her infamous pinched look. You’re still here, she snapped.

Dezz winked at Jen. Keep the boss in line while I’m gone.

You couldn’t keep her in line while you were here. What makes you think I can do it while you’re away?

Magda rolled her eyes. No wonder Olivia went bananas.

The merriment slipped away from Dezz. She didn’t go bananas.

Chapter Two

Am I seeing things? Has the lost lamb come home? Francine Pence tugged off her garden gloves to envelop Olivia in a hug.

Olivia kissed her mother’s cheek. Sorry to say, it’s just a quick stopover. Emotion welled in her chest at staying away for almost a year. It hadn’t been on purpose. Time just went by too fast. On the verge of tears, she distracted her feelings by admiring the vegetable garden. Rows of sweet corn, vines of cucumbers, tomato plants with yellow blossoms, feathery carrot tops, and a bounty of other vegetables, were a labor of love. Her mom and dad still canned or froze some of the produce for their own use but the bulk of the veggies these days went to those less fortunate. You’ve been busy.

It keeps me out of trouble. The pride in Francine’s voice was evident.

Trouble and Francine Pence do not go hand in hand. I wish I could say the same for me. I manage to step in it, ankle-deep with little effort.

Francine’s silky brows arched with question. I’m listening.

I didn’t come home to vent, Mom. Besides, it’s a story you’ve heard many times. You could almost repeat it word for word. Olivia brushed at the trickle of sweat tracking down her temple.

I’d still like to hear what’s going on, Francine said.

Olivia plucked a green bean from a plant. She snapped the ends off, took a bite, and smiled with the chew. Summer at its best.

You’re stalling.

Yes I am. Olivia put her teeth together in a toothy grin. She helped herself to another bean. You really don’t want to hear me say that Dezz has once again taken me to the edge of a cliff, and I can’t decide if I want to jump off, push him off, or wave a white flag in surrender.

Francine gently nudged Olivia with her forearm. The good-looking Casey boy is still messing with you, huh?

Good looking? Pfft. Dezz has the appeal of a toadstool. Olivia squinted into the brilliant Iowa sunshine. And yes, he’s still going strong. She mentally groaned. He’s never let up.

Francine’s smile morphed into a full-fledged belly-laugh. Even in your anger you’re creative. Does the toadstool have anything to do with your visit home?

Olivia nodded. Magda has had her fill of Dezz and me. She’s ordered us to roam the country and keep a travel diary.

A diary. Hmm. Still under the influence of laughter, Francine’s already huge grin widened. Smart woman. She’s giving you room to find a new focus. Writing down your feelings is bound to help.

I have plenty of focus and I certainly don’t need to scribble how I feel. I know how I feel. The growl she tried to keep inside, rushed out.

Her mother nonchalantly folded the garden gloves and tucked them in the back pocket of her jeans, before taking Olivia by the shoulders. Let me put it another way. Instead of fighting with Dezz, perhaps your boss wants you to discover something more rewarding, something remarkable you didn’t know you needed.

Peace?

Among other things. Maybe you’ll find there’s happiness to be had even if you’re not number one.

Olivia contemplated the wisdom. There was nothing wrong with striving to be the best. I’m driven. I get it honestly though. You and Dad are workaholics. I must’ve inherited the gene.

It has nothing to do with genetics, Liv. We worked hard because that’s what you do on a farm. She moved a lock of hair from Olivia’s forehead. What you have, dear daughter is oldest-child syndrome.

Olivia didn’t know what to make of the comment. She was indeed the oldest of the three Pence siblings; and to-date, the only one unmarried. Jared was twenty-eight, married to Kim, and lived northwest of Davenport where he also farmed. Megan was the baby at twenty-six. Last year she married Ted, her high school sweetheart. They moved to Cedar Rapids where Ted opened a hardware store and Megan would soon own a hair salon. Despite the miles between them, they stayed in touch, either by text messages or actual phone calls. What does rank in the family have to do with it?

The oldest child tends to be independent and feel less pressure to conform. They’re known to have a unique approach to life, most are people-pleasers and team-players.

"I’m not a people-pleaser or a team-player. Ask