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For some reason, Kylie felt the need to defend Gretchen, despite the coolness she’d displayed when Kylie left for the day. She knew if she told the story of the boxes in Mick’s words, her mother would immediately side with Mick and be wary of Gretchen, and somehow that bothered her. “I’m sure they’ll clear it up, though.”
    They worked quietly for several minutes before Caroline spoke again. “Can you believe it’s almost May already?” She was staring out the kitchen window at the beginnings of green in her back yard, no doubt imagining which ß owers would go where in the next month.
    “Incredible.” Kylie put the basket of rolls on the table and got the milk out of the fridge. “Almost time for the annual O’Brien Memorial Day cookout.”
    Caroline looked shocked. “My God, you’re right.”
    “Mom. It’s over a month away. Don’t panic yet.”
    Caroline was already riß ing through the junk drawer for a pad of paper. “I can at least start making my list,” she muttered, more to herself than to Kylie.
    Kylie rolled her eyes, chuckling as she poured the drinks. “Relax, Mom. Everything will come together beautifully. It always does.” She kissed her mother on the cheek while directing her toward the table.
    “Sit. I’ll get Dad.”
    • 37 •
    • 38 •
    TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH

CHAPTER FOUR
    Kylie! Kylie, come sit with us.”
    Damn it. Kylie closed her eyes when she heard the voice shouted from behind her. It was Jason Bergman; she’d recognize his baritone anywhere. She also knew what was coming. She’d known it Þ fteen minutes into the morning-long sales meeting.
    She continued through the cafeteria line, put a chicken salad and a Coke on her tray, paid at the register, then turned to locate Jason. Her stomach ß ip-ß opped when she found him, along with the six other sales reps sitting at his table. Behind them was a second table of eight. On the other side, another. Every set of eyes was Þ xed expectantly on her and Kylie just knew the entire team had been awaiting her arrival so they could pounce.
    “Here we go,” she mumbled, heading toward them.
    The sales reps were dressed in their business best…suits and ties for the men, skirts and jackets or dresses for the women, though Sarah Stevenson was wearing a navy blue pantsuit that looked expensively fantastic on her. The group appeared successful, but according to Gretchen that wasn’t what their numbers were reß ecting.
    “What the hell, Kylie?” Jason spoke up for the gang the second Kylie sat down, leaning forward slightly to emphasize his words.
    “Where the hell did the Cruella De Vil type come from? And who shit in her corn ß akes?”
    Kylie popped open her Coke while trying to Þ gure out how to handle this situation. The sales reps relied on her. She was their point of contact and they trusted her to get them what they needed. Gretchen
    • 39 •
    GEORGIA BEERS
    had been extremely hard on them, criticizing their low sales Þ gures and browbeating them about improvements for nearly four hours.
    “I’m not sure what to tell you, Jay. She’s tough.”
    “Tough?” Sarah piped in, popping a potato chip into her mouth.
    “She’s nasty.”
    Kylie rubbed at her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I think she’s just trying to rufß e your feathers to help increase your sales.”
    Jeff Carson was to Kylie’s immediate left and he snorted at her comment. “Oh, she did some rufß ing, all right. Telling me my proÞ t margins were a joke in front of the entire region certainly rufß ed me.
    Jesus. Tactless much?”
    “And didn’t she tell Roxy to get her ass out of her chair once in a while?” Jason clariÞ ed to emphatic nods and murmurs.
    Kylie winced inwardly. That had been a particularly bad one. Not that Gretchen hadn’t been right. Roxy was far too comfortable with e-mail and didn’t visit her clients nearly as often as she should, and her numbers supported those facts. But Roxy was