by Holly Rayner
Entering Lyle’s office, she sat in the cushy leather armchair and leaned slightly forward. Lyle was clearly panicking—sweat was gathering on his brow, and he swiped a Kleenex over his rosy cheekbones, staring wide-eyed at his computer. “Listen, Charlotte. This Sean Lawson case, as you know, is our most important. One of the most important we’ve ever taken on, actually. And this morning—well.” He gulped. “Katrina called in sick.”
Charlotte’s jaw dropped. “She’s sick? How can she be sick at a time like this?” Her mind began to race. “I mean, she knows how important this is. Doesn’t she?”
Lyle shrugged helplessly. “She has food poisoning, apparently. She went to that new Indian place in Capitol Hill and—bam.” He shook his head, as if discussing a death. “Anyway. I need you to take the meeting by yourself.”
Charlotte’s heart leaped. She felt vibrant, electric, for all of a moment before the true weight of this problem smacked her: she was woefully underprepared for this kind of meeting.
“I was given all those other cases…” she began, shaking her head. She felt herself slump in her chair. “I can’t lead a meeting like this. Did Katrina send her notes, maybe?”
But Lyle just shook his head. “She said she hadn’t prepared anything, that she was planning on doing it last night.”
“But we got this assignment days ago,” Charlotte whispered, her voice strained. She watched as Lyle shook his head, as they dove into slimy, stinking reality. Charlotte would go into this meeting without ready preparation, sure to embarrass herself in front of the man she’d admired since she was eighteen.
“Whatever,” Charlotte said, brushing it off. She fished her notepad out of her purse, beginning to write furious notes. “I’m assuming we can’t postpone this meeting, due to his schedule.”
“That’s correct,” Lyle said, trying to peer at the notes she was writing. “And I have a meeting with one of our stalwart clients, across town, so I cannot join you. I’m truly sorry, Charlotte. I’m sorry to put so much of the future of the company on your shoulders.”
Charlotte shook her head, giving him a bright smile. She forced the clouds to part in her mind. This was just another glass ceiling, another wall she’d have to break through on her path to success. One time, in college, she’d studied the wrong chapter for a test, and only learned about it five hours prior. She’d hustled through every single chapter, reading the words out loud to herself. And she’d nailed it.
“Don’t worry, Lyle. You hired me for a reason,” she said, casually addressing that Katrina had been hired for no reason other than her father’s name.
With that, Charlotte hurried from Lyle’s office to her own. She perched on her chair, her eyes boring into the computer screen, and began to type furiously, zipping through the facts of the case and watching as the minutes ticked to an hour. She was due to meet with Sean Lawson at 10 a.m. in the Lawson Technologies building, which was thankfully just a ten-minute walk away. Through her office window, she saw one of the secretaries preparing a coffee and cookie tray for the staff, for the morning mini-break; for her part, Charlotte couldn’t imagine that she’d ever be hungry again.
Just before she left, she opened the antique pewter box, lifting the cufflink out and putting it in her pocket. Maybe it would bring her good luck. And maybe, if she had enough confidence, she would return it to its rightful owner, thus admitting the strength of her memory of him.
Charlotte marched toward the Lawson Technologies building on Jell-O legs, trying to clear her head. She entered the office building, feeling like she was on display, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining each of the walls, forcing sunlight into her face. The air felt warm, covering her like a blanket.
She reached the front desk and gave the secretary a warm smile. “Charlotte Waters,” she said. “With Ellis and Associates. I have a meeting with Sean Lawson at 10 a.m.”
The secretary seemed to look Charlotte up and down with a bit of humor, peering at her beneath cat-eye glasses. Charlotte knew this woman had delivered the likes of Mark Zuckerburg, founder of Facebook, to Sean Lawson’s offices, and this nervous-looking blonde lawyer from out East didn’t exactly fit the bill.
Finally, the secretary spoke. “Yes. I’ll show you to the boardroom. If you’ll just follow me.”
She lifted herself from her spinning chair, her wide hips swaying as she sauntered towards the elevator. She cleared her throat and pressed the button, and the pair of them stood, side-by-side, without speaking. Charlotte longed to find something—anything—to say, to make her memorable to this woman who interacted with Sean each and every day.
The secretary showed Charlotte to the boardroom and abandoned her quickly, dropping her off like a scared kid at their first summer camp. Charlotte stood in the bright, natural light and gazed around her, taking a seat first at the head of the table, then at the side. The secretary had told her that Sean would be with her shortly, and not to be concerned if he was tardy. “He has important work to do,” she had said, meaning, “more important than meeting with you.”
The door handle began to spin, and Charlotte leaned forward as time gave way to a beautiful image.
There, in the crack of the door, emerged Sean Lawson. He was carrying a briefcase and wearing a beautiful suit, something that had clearly been picked out by someone who knew more about fashion than Sean Lawson himself. His jawline was cut perfectly, his hair was rugged, rough, as if he’d just been hiking in the woods (and Charlotte knew this was something he enjoyed; she’d read it in a magazine).
And then, he flashed her that familiar, secretive smile—the same one she’d enjoyed all those years before, at Yale. She felt her stomach drop, like she was on the descent of the highest rollercoaster in the world.
FOUR
Charlotte soon recovered from her shock, walking forward and grasping his hand. “Sean. I’m Charlotte Waters from Ellis and Associates. It’s wonderful to meet you.”
Sean smiled warmly, confidently, and squeezed her hand. “Charlotte. It’s wonderful to have you here.”
This was office speak, Charlotte knew, but because she’d been daydreaming about meeting this man for years, she couldn’t help but feel that each word was loaded with meaning. She gestured toward the table, inviting him to sit—as if this wasn’t an office in which he sat every single day. She felt her heart humming.
“How was your journey?” he asked her.
“Oh, just fine. I wanted to take my bike over, but I didn’t want to mess up my hair for such an important meeting.”
Charlotte balked. Had she actually said that? God, she was a dignified, Yale-educated lawyer—what was coming over her?
“I’m a biker too, actually” Sean said, his eyes bright. “I love the energy it gives me. It seems that several of my advisors think I’m a bit too ‘important’ to the company to be biking around. But the view of the city on your way in? You can’t beat it,” he said. “After spending so much time on the East Coast, I really appreciate this kind of environment.”
Charlotte nodded, wanting to tell him that she’d gone to Yale as well, that she’d seen him speak. But she yanked herself back, conscious of maintaining her professional distance. “Well. I suppose we should get started, yeah?”
“Absolutely,” Sean said, tapping a pen against his cheek. It still held that classic five o’clock shadow. He still spoke with the air of a man who didn’t quite know how attractive he was.
“All right. Well, let me see. I’d like to get a bit of background regarding your friendship with Evan Greene.”
“Sure.”
Charlotte attempted to make her voice articulate; she worked to seem presentable and confident. She rolled her pen over her notepad, jotting down notes. “When did you first meet Evan?”
“It was junior year,” Sean said. “Not long after I broke up with my girlfriend. Evan was smart, if a bit cocky, and we spent a lot of evenings and late nights talking. Not really about work or money; more about girls. About our personal philoso
phies. Things like that. When my ex moved out of our apartment, he moved in.”
Charlotte already knew much of this, but she treasured learning about it directly from him. She longed for his voice to weave into her ears long into the afternoon, perhaps into the night.
She looked at him intently. “And at any of these times, did you talk to him about InvestMe or your plans to launch Lawson Technologies?”
Sean shrugged. “Of course I did. I was speaking about it all the time. I stayed up late just fantasizing about what it could become. Not in the ‘I want to be famous’ way. No, I longed to be an innovator, to make a lasting impact on the tech world and to help fellow entrepreneurs. Evan was into that scene, sure, but his ideas were lackluster. I would toy around with them, telling him that he had good concepts, but only because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.” He smiled slightly, shaking his head. “He had this girlfriend—the woman who eventually became his wife. He spent a lot more time making out with her than coding with me.”
“And you worked a great deal on InvestMe in that apartment?” she asked.
“Pretty much exclusively, yeah.”
“Did Evan ever lean over your computer, pointing things out, suggesting changes—things of that nature?”
At this moment, Sean’s expression changed. He frowned, his dark eyebrows making slight creases in his otherwise flawless skin. “No. And—I have to ask, Charlotte. Did you happen to read over the rather detailed document I sent last week, regarding all of these questions?”
Charlotte’s face turned bright red. She felt like she’d driven directly into a nightmare of her own creation, that every moment of expectation she’d ever had throughout her life had led her here—to this timely death. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, her brain racing to find an answer.
Finally, she fumbled into her explanation. “I’m—I’m so sorry, Mr. Lawson. To be honest, I wasn’t meant to be here alone. I’m essentially the intern on this project, while my colleague—er—boss, Katrina Ellis, is meant to be in charge of your case. She’s read the documents.” Charlotte knew this was a lie, that Katrina was even less prepared than she. But still she yearned to make Ellis and Associates look as good as possible; if she went down, they all did.
Sean nodded, still looking at her with confused interest. “I see.”
“Anyway. Katrina called in with food poisoning this morning. I guess the new Indian place in Capitol Hill is a no-go.” She was breathless now, scrambling. “And so, my boss told me I was to do this alone. Unprepared. And wholly wasting your time. My sincerest apologies.”
The silence that followed this confession nearly destroyed her. She looked down at her hands, realizing that everything she’d ever worked for, everything she’d ever dreamed of, was crashing down around her. She’d been given the chance to meet the man she’d lusted after; she’d made a fool of herself, and there was a chance she would lose her job over it. Charlotte was mortified, biting at her tongue, watching the ticking clock on the wall. Outside, a siren wailed through the city center, and she had the fleeting wish of it being an ambulance, come to pick her up before she had a heart attack.
Sean finally spoke, breaking the silence. “Well. I suppose this meeting can’t go on a moment longer, then. I wanted to have an early lunch, anyway.” He began to gather his supplies, stacking his papers. “I hope Katrina gets well soon. And I’m sorry that you were put in this position, Charlotte. Truly, you know more about this case than most people, without educating yourself.”
Charlotte exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath, unsure if she was about to laugh or cry. “All right. Thank you for your time.”
She began to lift herself from her seat, ready to make the walk of shame out of his office, then something in her pocket shifted, and she remembered—with a mixture of hope and fear—that she still held the single link between them. The cufflink.
She slipped her slim fingers into the pocket, feeling the smooth chill of the metal.
“Before I go,” she began, her voice barely louder than a whisper, “I wanted to give you something. It’s something that belongs to you, and I’m sorry it took me so long to return it.” She lifted the cufflink into the air and watched as the sun glinted off of it. In the back of her mind, she said goodbye to it, this treasured token from her past.
Sean’s face changed instantly. He opened his palm and allowed her to drop the cufflink onto it. Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to lift her head to catch what his expression was.
She snagged her papers and her briefcase and swept herself into the hallway, feeling tears roll down her face, ruining her so carefully and hopefully applied makeup.
The secretary saw her when she exited the elevator, and Charlotte could have sworn she saw a small smirk creep across her face. The tears and the red cheeks had given Charlotte away, betraying her as someone who couldn’t handle the intensity of this industry, somebody who should probably just get into a different law field. Something easy, like divorce.
Charlotte found herself on the sidewalk in front of the Lawson Technologies building. She peered up toward the highest room, where she’d met with the CEO himself. She shoved her hand into her purse and called her best friend, already feeling tearful words bubbling to the surface.
“How did it go?” Chelsea asked. She’d answered after only a half ring.
“Can you meet me outside your office?” Charlotte asked, feeling choked. “I shouldn’t go back to the office right away; that meeting was meant to go for two hours.”
Chelsea’s tone changed immediately. “Okay. It’s okay. Let’s meet at that bagel place. You haven’t eaten, have you?”
“This is why I love you,” Charlotte said.