by Geneva Lee
“Well, a new curtain is going to set you back a pretty penny and it looks like most of those chairs won’t be of any use. Do you want to keep it a theater?” Agnes, the redhead, asked, pointing to the various eyesores on the screen.
“That’s the plan. It’s also going to be our biggest line of defense with the preservation committee.”
There was a cacophony of groans. I looked around waiting for someone to explain. My eyes fell on Gavin and he rolled his eyes like we were in on a private joke. This obviously wasn’t his first rodeo, but it was mine. “We run into this a lot,” he explained. “A number of Seattle neighborhoods are experiencing rapid development and growth with all the big companies setting up shop in the city. That means that a lot of historic buildings are being repurposed or torn down.”
“Which means preservation committees,” I guessed.
Gavin nodded. “In a way, we’re on the same side.”
“Tell them that,” Agnes grumbled.
“They have a reason to be concerned. The building was scheduled for demolition, and they were fighting hard against that. It’s one of the reasons we got the building for such a good deal.”
“Because it came with a pain in the ass preservation committee?” I piped up, instantly regretting it.
There was a weary round of laughter that stopped the embarrassed blush threatening to appear. It seemed I had hit the nail on the head.
“This is nothing we haven’t dealt with before,” Gavin reminded us. “And it’s the perfect thing for our PR department to cut their teeth on.”
Except the PR team hadn’t dealt with this before. Or with anything. All the books and essays and presentations and tests weren’t the same as facing a pissed-off, antagonistic group dedicated to undermining our work. Most of my professors taught Public Relations with offensive tactics. I’d been told to get out ahead of problems and to control the spin when news broke. The cat was already out of the underwear drawer on this one.
“What you need us to do?” Trevor asked while I was still contemplating the existential crisis between the ivory tower and my first real world job. I imagined squishing Trevor’s head between my thumbs, but kept my attention on Gavin.
Gavin looked toward me. “We’re going to need to meet them in the middle on this. They’ll want things that aren’t possible. Like a restoration of the original screen or seats. As you can see, that’s not going to happen. If they’re reasonable, they’ll see that. But we can expect a lot of backlash for going in to do any work at all. We need to show them a plan where we modernize the theater while still maintaining as much of the original history as possible, and we’ll need our PR people ready to hit the ground as soon as our permits are approved.”
I raised an eyebrow and bit my lip before sharing my concerns. “Honestly, that sounds a little bit more like the work of your building department.”
“And it is,” Gavin agreed, “but we need a strong presentation with a clear direction that leaves room for their suggestions without leaving room for their protests.”
Why didn’t he just ask for a unicorn that vomited cupcakes?
He continued with his tall order. “We need a series of press releases that make us look like the good guys and some type of strong community involvement that shows that we’re there to help preserve the history of Capitol Hill.”
If we were going to do that it should be one step at a time, leaving lots of room for adjustment based on their reactions.
“What about a sponsored community event?” I asked, tapping my pencil on my Post-It notes and thrilling at the quick-fired repartee of the board room.
“We’ll need more than that. It will take at least nine months to finish this project — and that’s if we don’t run into issues with the permits. We need to be active in the community during that whole time, showing them that they don’t have anything to worry about, or we’ll start to get protesters, and union workers don’t like to cross picket lines.”
“Seriously?” It slipped out before I could hold it back.
“You’ll have to forgive her. She’s from Texas,” Trevor added as though begging forgiveness for the alien in the room.
“We have protesters in Texas,” I shot back. “I’m just surprised a committee could muster that kind of firepower.”
“There’s usually someone with money spearheading these campaigns,” Agnes started to explain. “Do we know who it is yet?”
Gavin shook his head, but I noticed the corners of his mouth tighten. He was holding something back. I stared at him wondering if he was going to open up, but instead he continued, “I suspect I do. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as it’s confirmed.”
I was no Agatha Christie, but I’d venture to guess he knew exactly who it was and for some reason he was holding this information back from the team. Gavin’s mystery deepened.
His politic answer was met by mutterings and the rumblings of fledgling conversations, but Gavin held his hands up and everyone fell silent. It was amazing to watch. Even though he was so much younger than many of the people in the room, they all looked to him for leadership. It was ridiculously hot. This wasn’t a college boy in front of me. It was a man, taking charge of the situation and showing that teamwork and responsibility could overcome.
“So, were going to throw the poor, helpless interns into the lion’s den on this one?” Agatha asked. She grinned impishly at me from across the table.
“I hope some of you will be helpful. But I think they can handle it. Actually, I imagine that they still have ideas about changing the world. They aren’t as cynical as the rest of us. Yet.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, smiling, as though self-admitted cynicism was just part of the job. I hoped I never got to that point. I hoped I still cared in five years and ten years and fifteen and twenty. Gavin gave me some hope. He might have lumped himself in with the cynics, but his actions proved otherwise. He still cared. I could see it in the actions he’d taken to help those who were most vulnerable. Then again, I learned that a strong offense was a good defense, maybe it was best to have a little armor when coming up against preservation committees or detractors. There had to be a balance. But whatever gooey, soft interior Gavin was hiding under that three-piece suit, he’d managed to be successful with a beating heart.
“So your only PR person is on maternity leave?” Trevor chimed in from the back, asking a question I wanted the answer to as well. Gavin turned his attention to him and nodded.
“Obviously, we’ve been growing at a really rapid rate. PR has always been important to us, but as we take on more projects like this, we’re going to need a bigger team. We will definitely be looking to expand as soon as Becky’s back and can be part of that decision.”
My opportunity radar went off and I straightened in my seat. That sounded like in a few months there would be jobs available. I wouldn’t be out of school yet. But if I did a good enough job, that would mean more than any resume coming across Gavin or Becky’s desk. Suddenly, this wasn’t a project.
It was an audition, and I was up for the lead role.
Chapter Five
I had nothing. As soon as the meeting had adjourned I’d returned to my desk and gotten to work. I sat there for what could’ve been hours, maybe days, and wound up with diddly-squat to show for it. I didn’t even notice that I’d missed my lunch hour. It was amazing considering I’d gotten nothing accomplished.
By hour five of nada, it felt as if the walls of my cubicle were closing in on me, dooming me to an existence of total mediocrity. I was never going to impress the NorthWest Investments team at this rate. The job that Gavin had dangled over my head seemed to be farther and farther out of reach. I’d probably graduate with no job and no prospects and return home to wait tables at one of Abilene’s dozen restaurants.
If I couldn’t come up with a proposal that would meet the needs of the community and show them what NorthWest Investments stands for, how could I work on larger projects. How could I be part of a
bigger team? How could I ask them to invest in me?
I was getting nowhere and it was wearing down my usual, get-it-girl attitude.
When I stood up from my desk, my back was sore and one of my feet was asleep. I needed to get going, move, get the blood flowing. I decided to run down to the corner for a cup of coffee and whatever carbohydrates they had in their display. I needed sugar and whatever energy—albeit temporary—it provided. The elevator was actually on my floor for once, and I decided to take it lest stairs prove as unmanageable as my own brain. As the doors started to slide closed, a hand reached out to stop them. Trevor got on next to me.
Because this day needed to be any longer.
“Been working on the proposal?” he asked I nodded, keeping my eyes on the buttons as they lit up. At least it wasn’t a large building.
“You?”
“Yeah, I’m killing it. I swear the ideas are just flowing.”
Just like the bull shit, I added silently. The truth was that Trevor had always been an ideas man. It was the follow-through he lacked. He’d been good at foreplay and bad at sealing the deal. He talked a big game and delivered a C-average. I didn’t doubt that he’d already come up with a dozen great proposal ideas. Could he actually make any of them happen?
Not by himself, I realized. Maybe my stubbornness was going to be what got the best of me. Gavin had said they needed a PR team not a PR person. NorthWest Investments touted teamwork and community. I wasn’t doing that. I was sitting alone and struggling. All while Trevor was coming up with ideas left and right. Maybe if we played our cards right there would be a job in it for both of us. I ignored the nauseous roll of my stomach at the thought of working with Trevor longer than this summer. The truth was we were both auditioning. We might both be hired. Gavin had said team and there was no I in team, as the saying went.
I wouldn’t always get a say in who I had to work with, so now was the time to get used to the idea of working with someone like Trevor. It was hard to imagine a coworker that would grate on me more, but if I could learn to work with him I could work with anyone.
I might even find the secret key to establishing world peace in the process.
“Maybe we could sit down when I get back from grabbing coffee,” I suggested. “I could show you what I have. You could show me what you have.”
“I think it’s better if we keep our eyes on her own papers.” Trevor scoffed at my casual suggestion like I just asked him to make up with me and get married.
“I just think that Gavin wants a PR team”—
Trevor cut me off. “We both know that working together isn’t part of either one of our long-term plans. Why pretend?”
That’s what I got for trying to be the diplomat. I strode past him and up to the receptionist’s desk. For all his big talk, Trevor followed behind and continued, “It’s nothing against you. I know you’re really smart, Cassie. But I need to land a job in Seattle when I’m out of school. You have all sorts of opportunities. You could go back to Texas.”
“I could…” No good would come of me acknowledging that suggestions, except the world might have one less Trevor in it. Instead I turned to George and smiled sweetly.
“Would you like a cup of coffee? I’m going down to the corner for some.” I spoke in even, measured tones, belying the fact that I was about to blow my top.
“Thank the lord.” George said as he took in the afternoon show that had just started. “I’d love an Americano with some cream if it’s not too much trouble. Of course, if you need to stay and finish this discussion…”
“This discussion is all wrapped up,” I told him.
Trevor wasn’t getting the hint. “I suppose if you want me to look over your presentation, that would be okay, but I think it’s important”—
He stopped suddenly and his mouth fell open. I looked up to see what had struck him dumb. It wasn’t hard to figure out because easily one of the most beautiful women in the world had just walked through the doors to NorthWest Investments. Long, silky black hair fell past her shoulders. It was clearly a shade or two darker than her natural color based on her dusty, olive skin tone. As she whipped off her sunglasses and tucked them into the Chanel bag she was carrying, the bright blue of her eyes was mesmerizing as she passed. Her carefully tailored trousers stopped a few inches above her ankles allowing her long legs to stream into sky high, patent leather heels. Her loose, ivory blouse was sleeveless and skimmed her slender figure, moving softly with each step she took. She was the definition of poise, even I couldn’t help staring.
“You might want to close your mouth,” I muttered to Trevor as she passed. I mimed rolling up my tongue. He was so disgusting.
“Who is that?” Trevor asked and I could almost see him mentally putting her on some type of wish list.
“Imogen Sound,” George told us from behind the desk. “She must be here to see Gavin. She’s”—
“Hot as hell,” Trevor jumped in.
George heaved the sigh of someone who’d spent too much time dealing with the younger generation. He didn’t bother to continue whatever he’d planned to tell us.
I rolled my eyes and shouldered my purse higher. It felt distinctly less glamorous with her nearby. “I’m off to get you that coffee.”
I’d only stepped away from the desk when Gavin appeared out of the elevator and met Imogen. The smile that spread over his face as he saw her was like a fist around my heart. Squeezing and squeezing, it felt like it might pop like a grape under the pressure. In all my concern over not flirting with my boss, I’d never considered that he might not be available. Imogen leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before circling her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug, and I had my answer. Gavin paused and kissed her on the forehead before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and turning back toward the elevator. He looked up and caught sight of me watching them. Gavin opened his mouth as though he was about to call out to me, but I wasn’t in the mood to be introduced to his girlfriend. Not today. Not while confusion churned inside me like a tsunami about to hit the shore.
Chapter Six
Gavin had a girlfriend. A fact made all the more annoying by its alliterative qualities. It was also a fact that I shouldn’t be annoyed over—forget that, had no right to be annoyed over.
I was annoyed.
I was pretty sure I wasn’t imagining his subtle insinuations to me, which made him just another wannabe cheater. The rest of the work day went by in a haze of half smiles and wandering thoughts. No matter how hard I tried to redirect my attention away from Gavin and his lunch date, I kept finding myself thinking about him. She was pretty and nice and if a girl like her couldn’t keep a guy interested, what hope did a neurotic head-case like me have? And having Trevor around was proving to be a constant reminder that I wasn’t the girl that got forever. I was the in-between girl a guy settled on while he waited for a better investment. I was a lost cause. I should have it tattooed on my forehead.
When five o’clock hit I was more than thrilled to stop phoning it in and go home. I stood a better chance of being able to work there without the possibility of running into the walking distractions that haunted this building.
Today Seattle had given in and conceded to June. The skies were bright blue and cloudless, even Mt. Rainier was visible on the horizon. Back home, we would have been well into the season and preparing for the sweltering stickiness of a Texas summer. Here summer meant perfect 74 degree days and clear skies. Maybe I’d finally venture down to the condo’s community pool. I needed sun and a new attitude.
I’d parked in a lot a mile uphill from the office, and by the time I reached it, I was ready to dive into the pool fully clothed. My trusty, old Corolla was parked in the far corner. It was a hand-me-down from my mom who’d driven it halfway across the country so I’d have a car for my big internship. My parents couldn’t wrap their head around living somewhere where a car wasn’t necessary. Now I felt obliged to drive it, and I would as long as they kept funneling
parking money into my bank account. Despite the breezy day, I’d managed to choose the sunniest spot in the lot, and when I opened the driver’s side door a wave of heat greeted me. After the hike up the hill, the last thing I felt like doing was waiting for the air conditioner to get going. Instead, I opened the back passenger door and slung my purse inside. Leaning against the car, I closed my eyes and turned my face upward to the sun.
It was the one thing I missed about Texas. Here I might go weeks without enjoying a sunny day. In the winter, it was sometimes months. Everything else about Washington suited me fine. I’d chosen my college based on scholarship funds. I hadn’t even bothered to visit before I took them up on their full-ride, but I’d been pretty happy with the hand fate had dealt me. Now that summer was here I could enjoy three months of uninterrupted bliss.
A car horn interrupted the happy thought. Maybe summer would be less chill on this side of the Puget Sound. I cracked one eye warily, unwilling to engage with a stranger, even for small talk, and then heaved a sigh. A stranger I could ignore. An ex-boyfriend I could not. Despite changing lots and parking much farther than necessary—all in an attempt to avoid him—Mr. Freshman Year had found me. Luka was overdressed in a suit that didn’t match his age or what I knew about his personality. With any luck he was selling used cars. I didn’t think to ask. He was really the last person I wanted to run into, especially right now.
“Didn’t want to deal with that parking meter?” Luka asked, glancing at my car.
“Lot was full.” Who cared if it was a lie. I wasn’t about to admit to being bested by a stupid credit card machine. Plus, it would be just like Luka to decide that I was going out of my way to avoid him. Sure, I might have been doing just that, but he didn’t need to know. “Good to see you. Gotta run.”