Fight to the Top

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Fight to the Top Page 1

by S. L. Gape




  Fight

  to

  the

  Top

  By

  S.L. Gape

  Fight to the Top © 2017 S.L. Gape

  Triplicity Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without permission.

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

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Edition – 2017

  Cover Design: Triplicity Publishing, LLC

  Interior Design: Triplicity Publishing, LLC

  Editor: Lauren Brady - Triplicity Publishing, LLC

  Acknowledgement

  I'd like to thank Lisa and Sarah for their help, support and proofreading with this book. As like the others, if it wasn't for you pair, I’m not sure I'd be on the right track for my constant quizzing to make sure there's a few twists in there.

  To Jen, who of course everyone thought this was about, thanks for your support.

  And of course the editing and management team at Triplicity Publishing, for all their hard work and support in getting my book from my head to the shelves.

  Manchester, UK

  Chapter One

  Georgia walked through the front door of her penthouse apartment, immediately struck by the lights of the city beaming through the floor to ceiling windows. Locking the door, Georgia rested the back of her head against it and sighed loudly. She looked down at her Cartier watch, a little gift from herself with last year’s bonus. It was after midnight, “Seriously, this better be worth it” she sighed, dropping her bag to the floor and running her hands through her blonde, cropped, brushed back cut, trying to loosen the hair-sprayed style. The hair regularly likened to Pink and Miley Cyrus, still barely moved from the hold, forcing her to shake her head loosely. Ouch. Her head and back were sore. She would have Paul arrange a massage when she saw him tomorrow, as her body was in desperate need for some TLC.

  Georgia opened her fridge looking for something to eat. Paul had gotten her a hearty soup for lunch when he went out, but she hadn’t had a chance to eat it. “Hmm, you need to start shopping, girl,” she said into the fridge looking at a bottle of water, a banana and a half bottle of pinot. Great, no lunch or dinner. She couldn’t order take away again, plus it was far too late to do that. She ignored the stomach grumblings and took the bottle of water. When was the last time I switched on a light, other than my bedroom in my apartment? she thought as she switched it on. Looking into the mirror, she noticed the crow’s feet starting to appear. She always had been incredibly lucky with the delayed aging process, a gift from her mother. But as of late, she was noticing more and more lines appearing. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, she was 40 years old after all, and working 17 hour days would not be helping.

  Shaking the depressing thoughts from her head, she gently lifted the silver dress jewellery she was wearing. It was one of her favourites; a set consisting of a long necklace, bracelet and matching earrings. Next, she stepped out of her favourite pointed shoe-boots. I could use a foot massage, too, she thought as she massaged the balls of her feet. Note to self, have Paul actually book a full spa day. Her body was screaming like a bitch, and she needed her bed more than anything. She unzipped the long sleeve, light pink, sheath dress she was wearing, one of her favourite outfits because it complimented her 5’9, lean frame. Paired with the 6 inch shoes, it accentuated her long legs. Georgia was exhausted, but her nightly ritual of cleansing and toning had never been missed. People had regularly commented over the years at what an incredible complexion she had, and in her mind, that was a significant reason why. She cleansed and toned quickly before slipping into bed in the underwear set she was wearing. “Hmm,” she groaned heavily, happy it was Thursday, which meant the cleaners had been in. Fresh sheets had been put on, and there was nothing better in the world she could think of right now. She breathed in the scent, appreciating the comfort as she quickly drifted off to probably only a few short hours of content dreaming.

  Houston, USA

  Chapter Two

  Erika zipped up her navy pencil skirt from behind, and smoothed down her ivory chiffon blouse. Slipping on her navy pumps, she fastened her long black hair in a clip and left the room, clasping her watch as she was walking down the stairs. “Darn,” she grumbled to herself, noticing the time as she quickened her pace, and tripped on the stairs. “Damn it! Dulcie, what have I told you about leaving things on the stairs?” she shouted.

  “Sorry, Mommy.” Her daughter looked up wide-eyed from her bowl of Captain Crunch.

  “Baby, is it a school day today?”

  “Uh huh.” She nodded enthusiastically, taking another giant spoonful.

  “So, what’s going on here then?” She held up the box of cereal, watching her 5-year-old daughter’s face turn into a smile. Dulcie had inherited Erika’s Italian features: tanned skin, long dark curls, big brown eyes, and the longest eye lashes. She was the double of Erika, even down to the long lean frame. Dulcie was the tallest in her kindergarten class, even taller than some of the first graders. “Sweetie, you know the rules. No Captain Crunch through the week, remember?” She smiled, wiping the milk from her daughter’s chin.

  “But, I was told I could,” she said seriously.

  Of course, you were, she thought. “Come on, pumpkin. Go get your backpack. We need to leave,” she said, clearing away Dulcie’s bowl and sliding it into the dishwasher.

  Erika grabbed her handbag before grabbing her daughter’s hand and locking up her 4-bedroom colonial. She fastened Dulcie into the car seat of her Mercedes SUV, kissing her cheek quickly and winking at the girl, swinging her feet and smiling widely. Dulcie was so much like Erika in every way; already incredibly academic, loving going to kindergarten as much as Erika loved going to work. She was happy that Dulcie wasn’t like some of her friends’ kids where school ‘sucked’ already. The prospect of another 5, 10, 15 years in school when you don’t like it, she thought, shaking her head.

  Erika pulled up at her daughter’s kindergarten. Shoot. She was going to be late for this morning’s meeting. “Come on, baby. Mommy’s gonna be late.” Erika unfastened the car seat and grabbed Dulcie’s backpack. She ran up the stairs, kissing and hugging her daughter tightly, before handing her over to Miss Addison. Erika rushed down the stairs, waving away the car beeping behind her that she had blocked in. She grabbed her cell and speed dialled 1, “Hey, it’s me. Are they there yet?” She swerved out of the parking lot and pulled onto the street. “Darn! Okay, stall them. No, Dan had to leave early, I needed to drop Dulcie off. No. No, its fine; just stall and get everything ready for me. I’ll be there in 10,” she said, hanging up on Tim, pulling in and out wherever possible to get into work quicker.

  Manchester, UK

  Chapter Three

  Georgia walked through the door at 5:40am. It was ridiculously early, but she had no alternative, so she needed to throw herself into this. She had spent the last five years working towards this, after all.

  She felt confident, the marketing was set up, and they really had done an amazing job. She would need to remember to thank Julia and her team when this was done. Equally the same went for the ops team, and the design team. Hell, every team for that matter. But first she needed to make sure everything was ready for the launch.

  Georgia had been an Area Director for just short of five years and was now in line as the next Managing Director. God, was she ready for it. At forty years old she had nothing but her wor
k. The company she was incontestably enslaved to; the company that didn’t allow for a social life, a love life, friendship… Jesus, even friendship. Georgia had nothing but Paul, who technically was her assistant, so she couldn’t really class him as anything. Especially as his girlfriend hated her, she smiled to herself as that realisation hit. Granted his girlfriend was a bitch! Georgia realised she was a sad, lonely, awful, boring, sad, did she say sad? Assistant girlfriend hating bitch. Yep, that pretty much summed it up, she thought.

  “Worrying again, boss?” Paul walked in, pulling her out of the daze.

  “Of course, not. What could I possibly have to worry about?” she turned to him. “That it all falls apart? That the office doesn’t make any money? That the new business that I brought in pulls out as we cut the ribbon? That I don’t make the cut? That I don’t get the promotion everybody has refused to bet on, simply because it’s such a dead cert? That it all goes Pete tong and they sack me? I’ll be unemployed, sad, lonely, depressed, won’t be able to afford my apartment, Ohhh my beautiful apartment. My beautiful apartment that I never use because I’m too busy working. Working and dedicating my life to a company that will sack me,” she said distantly.

  “Fuck, Georgia, you’re a little ray of sunshine, today. Where the hell has all of that come from? Come on, for God’s sake. You are not going to screw it up, it’s done. Nothing can go wrong at this point. You always get this way when we do something big. Always! We aren’t actually having a whole cutting the ribbon ceremony, are we?” he said aghast.

  “Really?” she looked at him stupendously. “Come on. We have ridiculous amounts to do, before 10am, and I have got the headache from hell already starting,” she sighed. “This better be worth it,” she said stomping off.

  ***

  Georgia sat back in her high-backed chair, feet resting on the corner of her desk. She rubbed her temples and looked out to the city around her, carefully resting the tumbler of grey goose in her lap.

  “Wow, now there’s a Kodak moment if ever I saw one. You know looking like that really does make us lads realise what a waste it is you being gay. Never getting a piece of this, horrifying it is,” Glen grinned. “Just wanted to come in and say a huge congrats, boss. You did… well, you did fucking fantastic.” He held out his hand. “Unless a good old hug would be more befitting,” he smirked.

  “Completely! Would be a wonderful way to screw with HR, that a randy old director was getting frisky with his boss.” She smiled holding out her hand professionally.

  “Congratulations, sexy. I’ll call you that before you become my MD, then you’ll really be able to fire my arse. And less of the old,” he admonished, before sauntering out of her office.

  Chapter Four

  Georgia missed being with people on nights like this. Work had been a bitch today, but it was Friday night. She lived in, well in her opinion the best, but to most the second-best city in England. It was early and she had nowhere to go and nobody to go with. Paul had left early, and she had no option but to allow him. It was his anniversary with the ‘psycho bitch’ after all.

  The team had all gone out for drinks. She wasn’t really one for socialising with people from work. The only option, after one of the most rewarding days in history was to go home with a takeaway and a bottle of plonk to celebrate. Problem was, that was her normal night, not even a Friday night; not even a celebratory Friday night. She sighed as she picked up her tote bag and left the office. “Home with a bottle it is then,” she said sadly.

  “Good night, Ms. Carson. You have yourself a wonderful weekend.”

  Georgia looked up and smiled sadly. “Good night, Joe. You too, don’t work too hard,” she said to the building concierge

  “Fine one to talk, miss,” he responded, returning to his newspaper.

  At what point is it odd and wrong that the building concierge to your office knows your first name she thought walking out the door?

  ***

  Georgia walked down the street from her office, heading in the direction of Sainsbury’s. She would order in, since she didn’t really fancy waiting in a restaurant on a Friday night at this time. A bottle or two of pink Moet and then order an Indian and celebrate, the day being an incredible success. Why shouldn’t she push the boat out?

  As Georgia was heading to Sainsbury’s, she was pulled from her thoughts quite literally.

  “Oh, my god, you made it? That’s fantastic,” Julia said, pulling Georgia in for a hug. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of that office, certainly not boozing with us reprobates. But, I guess after today it’s the best way to celebrate. With your future lackeys.” She smiled. “Ohhh, this is great,” she said, grabbing her hand and running off with Georgia in tow.

  “Erm, Ju… Jul…,” Georgia tried, but it was too late, she had been dragged inside and the music and noise was far too loud for her to be able to get her attention. Plus, Julia was on a mission, weaving her in and out of the crowds. Wow, town is busy on a Friday night she thought. They stopped short of an area by the bar with a number of her very intoxicated staff. There were cheers and screams noticing Georgia, seemingly everyone was quite… was quite happy she was there. And all wanted a piece of her. Georgia didn’t get too caught up by it, she was well aware it was the level of intoxication. But as people were hugging her and offering her drinks, it felt quite nice, and she opted to stay for one drink after all. This was a celebration, and realistically she could leave and spend the rest of the weekend at home. Alone.

  ***

  A few hours later, and a couple hundred quid lighter, Georgia was well on the way to an incredible hangover tomorrow. She hated to admit it, but she was having a good night. Many people had left, whether it was the younger staff going to meet their own friends or some off home to their husbands, wives and kids. Left were a few of the directors and amusingly, a few of the younger women trying to get ‘into’ said directors. Georgia was unaware that this was a regular occurrence, as well as being condemned over the fact that she didn’t regularly participate. Highlighting that she was also a ‘city worker’.

  “I’m telling you, come out with us all and you will meet the woman of your dreams,” a colleague was saying to her.

  “Especially as we always end up at the village at the end of the night,” Julia joked.

  “I was just gonna say that Jules. Are we off yet? Or we doing food tonight?” Glen the ops Director asked. He put an arm each around Julia and Georgia, leaning in to talk to them. “Although, I’m not going to lie, I am more favourable of the village this evening. I think I could enjoy watching this beauty at work,” he raised his eyebrows to Georgia.

  “I am not even slightly surprised that that sentence has left your mouth.” Georgia shook her head. “I can assure you. You will, never see me ‘at work’, certainly not in the context you are referring to. But, I er… probably should go,” Georgia said checking the time on her iPhone.

  “Ohhh no, don’t. Just ignore him. He is a pervy, old pest but we love him anyway,” Julia pleaded.

  Glen held his hands up in defence. “Listen, darling, I was ruffling your feathers, but I genuinely didn’t intend to offend, I can assure you,” he offered, looking offended.

  “Come on, what else you going to do? Sit at home alone? It’s late so I can’t imagine many of us will last much longer. Come on, we’ll walk to the gay village, sober up a little and have a few more there. We will all be ready for our beds in an hour,” Julia said.

  “Come on,” a few others were chiming in for good measure.

  “Ohhh, come on then. I need a bank though. You lot have put me out of business with all these shots.” She smiled, walking ahead with a few staff.

  “So, what changed your mind about coming out tonight then, George?” Glen asked.

  “Celebratory, I bet,” Julia smiled widely, clearly very proud of how today went.

  “Erm, actually not. I wasn’t coming at all, I was walking up to Sainsbury’s to grab a co
uple of bottles of champagne to celebrate and saw Julia, having a cigarette and…”

  “Wait? What? Jules, since when did you smoke?”

  “I don’t, I was putting another of my pissed lot in a cab when I saw her,” she said. “So, you weren’t actually coming in? I… just railroaded you? Oh look, I’m really sorry about that,” she said soberly.

  “Oh, gosh don’t be. I, as it turns out, have had a wonderful evening. I did wonder regarding the smoking, I wasn’t aware you did. I thought it must have been a ‘social’ thing. But please, it’s seriously okay. I did try to shout to say no when you dragged me in the pub but it was far too loud. So, I just left it and thought it wouldn’t hurt to have one, especially given the outcome of today,” she said modestly. “But honestly, I have had the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” she said, looking down at Julia.

  Julia quickly turned away. “Well, can’t change it now,” she said, and rushed off into the first pub they came to on Canal Street. Georgia couldn’t work out what had just happened. They had always had a good working relationship and she always held her own. She didn’t know why she seemed to be embarrassed of making her come for a drink. Georgia followed the rest into the bar, as she pondered over whether Julia thought Georgia may fancy her. And that was why she got awkward.

  Georgia wasn’t unattractive by any means, and she had been blessed with great skin that aged tremendously well. Well, maybe until this last year. Add an air of elegance and style with a spunky hair style to suit. That, coupled with the confidence she had gained through her years climbing the ladder, she knew she wasn’t a bad catch, if she had wanted to get involved with anyone. But, equally, it frustrated the hell out of her when women assumed that just because she was a lesbian and they were female that she was automatically going to jump on them.

 

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