Elle sighed. “How did you know?”
“If you’re not concerned with work, then you were there pulling your hair out over someone who’s been on your mind.”
“I met him at a party,” Elle started. “He…doesn’t know my real name. Well, he knows my real name; people just haven’t called me that since grade school. I didn’t think I’d see him again, but then I did and he’s really sweet and so…not meant for me. My best friend is being super uptight about it. Anyway, there are things…I can’t really take back now, and I need to figure out a way to not see him again.”
“Okay, I didn’t understand half of that. But what I would like to know…is why you can’t just tell him you don’t want to see him again?”
Elle looked up at her with guilty eyes and biting her lip.
“Oh you don’t want to stop seeing him. I see,” she shook her head. “Then hunny, you better hurry up and give him the low-down on the real Elle Rybeck and give this guy a chance.” Mimi gave her one last look before swirling her chair back to her desk.
Elle’s eyes drifted to her phone. “Maybe I won’t have to,” she mumbled.
It was entirely possible that all the over thinking was for nothing, since he hadn’t called except for a quick text on Sunday thanking her for the date. Ugh, who does that? So naturally, she’d been wondering. And she shouldn’t be wondering. She should be glad that he hadn’t suggested they see each other again. Or tell her what a wonderful time he had. Or how their kiss shot ignited through him, the way it had her.
After sending out her pitches and doing some research on her latest assigned project, Elle leaned back in her chair throwing a hand over her stomach. Perhaps some fuel would be a good idea. She reached into her tote searching for her wallet, but instead, pulled out her vibrating phone; the display sending a spark through her.
Scott.
She glanced around her and noticed most folks were away from their desk at lunch. She leaned back in her chair and took a silent breath before answering. “Just Isabel speaking.”
“How was the rest of your weekend?” There was a smile in his voice.
“Simple. Yours?” she answered honestly.
“Sunday is typically the only day of the week I like to go dark...therefore complicated.”
Elle laughed. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Weston?” Elle smacked herself on the forehead, why couldn’t she just say what’s up?
“I had a great time Saturday night, and I thought I’d tell you that.”
“Ahh...somehow you knew I’d be up all night thinking about it. Well thank you for the reassurance.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Elle smiled to herself.
“I was also hoping you were free for lunch today.”
Elle glanced at the time display on her computer. “Bit short notice...”
“Business typically is.”
“Business?” Her brows creased.
“Yes. I was hoping to pick your brain about... vendoring.”
“That’s... not a term I use.”
“You see? I have so much to learn.”
“What do you need to know? It’s not that big of an industry.”
“I’m a little disappointed you think so. I disagree and think I should better educate myself in the trade, should I plan to invest in such as business as yours.”
“It’s super simple, Scott. You find something you can’t do yourself and outsource to someone who does. For example…balloon animalist.”
“Balloon animalist?”
Elle’s eyes bulged. She waved one arm in the air. “Or a financial data vendor.” She squeezed her eyes shut wondering how he was going to take that combination.
“Okay, see now I’m super confused. And twice as curious as to what type of services you provide,” he laughed. “So, noon?”
“I have a one o’clock that I can’t—”
“The Wyatt Hotel across Central Park. There’s a bar in the lobby. Noon. I’ll be waiting.” The phone clicked and there was an endless dial tone.
Something definitely changed in his tone when she’d started to turn down his offer for lunch. And the way he ended the call...so abrupt. She guessed that’s how Scott Weston handled business; to the point and not taking no for an answer. She was almost afraid to be late to this so-called business meeting.
* * *
“I’ll have whatever this drink is. Has cucumber in it, sounds refreshing,” Elle told the bartender, pointing to an item on the drink menu.
“It’s similar to a margarita, only better. Made with rum and cucumber.”
“Sounds perfect.” Elle smiled and turned back to Scott. “Is your office around here?”
“I don’t have an office. I don’t need one. No personal staff. I handle my own business. My own way. On my time.”
“Entirely alone? Not even an assistant?
He shook his head with some amusement. “Too much of a cliché.”
“So what do you do? Work out of a coffee shop?”
“Those who don’t have prospects or actual business might work out of coffee shops. I have a small computer I only bother carrying when I’m digging into a new firm and their financials. But I mostly work out of this.” He held up his cellphone; then pulled out another one. “And this.”
Elle laughed. “Is that so you can be on a call while focusing on something completely off topic?”
“You’ve done this before,” he grinned and took a sip of his amber drink.
She nodded and took a bite out of the cucumber garnish. “’Fraid so.” His eyes lingered on her mouth while she chewed, the lust in his eyes nearly making her squirm. “So what’s the deal with that? Are you trying to save money?” she asked, turning the attention back to business. She didn’t know how she would even try to keep from becoming so much more with this man.
He chuckled. “No. It’s because I never know where I’ll be. I’m in and out of meetings with firms I have deals with. Some days I might choose to work out of their office but if I do that, it’s mostly so I could scope the place out.”
“What do you scope for?”
“The staff. The management. Get a feel for what they spend time on. What their focus is. And what they envision as a future state.”
“And you do all that…alone?”
“No sidekick for this superhero,” he smirked.
“Is it because you don’t think you need anyone to be a fully functional operation?”
“It’s because I know I don’t. But I also don’t trust anyone—or rather, very few I should say—when it comes to consulting on how I operate my business. And those I do, again in the very low digits, already have an empire of their own.”
Elle hesitated, then after a long sip, decided to say exactly what was on her mind. “So, I’m not going to deny looking you up on the internet, especially when you so graciously introduced yourself as though you won the most recent Oscar.”
Scott’s head cocked to the side as he watched her, partially intrigued, and partly guarded.
She wavered, and then decided to continue. “You tend to have pretty high expectations; especially when it comes to downsizing. There was also someone who quoted you saying ‘the risks we take with the working class,” she raised an eyebrow at him, not bothering to hide her judgment.
“You read that on the internet?”
“I might be paraphrasing,” she pursed her lips.
“From what?” Scott seemed genuinely horrified as he whipped out his phone.
Elle put a hand over Scott’s and his eyes immediately shot to hers. “Look it up later. What I’m saying is it that your expectations might be a little too demanding. You want people to know that you try to work with them, not disintegrate their core values.”
“Which is?”
“Their employees,” Elle said without a doubt in her mind. “This may not be a reality to you or Donovan Hayes, but eighty percent of entrepreneurs value their staff. To walk into a business and tell them the
y’re the problem…might send the wrong message.”
Scott inhaled deeply through his nose and leaned back, seemingly frustrated. “I guess that’s just more paraphrasing?”
Elle sensed a change in his mood and wished she hadn’t said anything. She opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything to make it better. She hadn’t meant to offend him.
As if to solidify her doubts, Scott checked his watch and raised his eyebrow. “Looks like you could still make your one o’clock in plenty of time.” He motioned to the bartender and stood. He looked back at Elle. “Thank you for meeting me today, Isabel. It was a pleasure seeing you again.” His tone was formal and distant. The bartender returned with a card and a slip. Scott pulled out a pen from his inside pocket and signed it, nodding once at the other man.
Elle’s mouth dropped but couldn’t settle on any combination of words. Her mind ran wild with an endless inner debate while watching the man try and flee from her. After running through a short list of possible triggers, she’d decided she already knew.
She was playing a role of someone who would know what they were talking about when it came to business. But she let her mouth run away with her again. Because the truth was, she was speaking as someone from the outside, as a representative of the “working class”. She’d accused the man of damaging his reputation and basically called him immoral.
But even this was cold.
“Scott, I—”
“I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon,” he interjected, with barely another look in her direction.
Elle turned back to her half full drink. She inhaled a silent breath and swallowed as Scott kissed her cheek politely, and took off.
On her way back to the office, she pulled out her phone and to send a quick text to Mimi.
Elle: Thanks for covering; I should be back soon.
A short moment went by before her phone dinged.
Mimi: Anytime. How was lunch?
Elle: My cucumber was delicious.
Chapter 16
Elle
“Events don’t just happen,” Bobby lectured at the team meeting on Thursday afternoon. “They take considerable amount of time to create and develop.”
Elle was just thinking what a considerable amount of time this pointless meeting was taking. Since Scott had run out on her the day before, she’d been focused on projects and booking herself through the end of the year. Most of those bookings having come from her pitches earlier in the week. She wouldn’t be able to handle them all in the month of December, and some were requesting conflicting dates. She should be working on addressing those new prospects rather than sitting here, listening to some overconfident and fruitless employee who’d been nothing but annoying since the day she started.
“I put together a list of some helpful techniques. I think you could all benefit from keeping this handy when working on a project,” Bobby continued, handing out printed copies to the eight-plus people in the room, who Elle swore looked just as annoyed as she was.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Elle spat out.
Bobby jerked back, dramatically. “Is there a problem?”
“I’m sorry, I thought this was a meeting to brainstorm off each other on upcoming projects and discuss goals.”
“Yes, well, Starr was unable to make today’s meeting. She said to carry on without her and she’ll try to join later. So why don’t we go around the room and you can all discuss what you’re working on where you think your strengths could be.
Elle addressed the others in the room. “Is this what these meetings are usually about?” If so, then she did not belong in there. She was one of the best planners in the city for years. She should be holding seminars on how to do this shit.
Bobby blew out a slow breath as if to remind himself that he was dealing with a child and focused on Elle. “These meetings centralize on learning from each other, becoming more efficient and,” he eyed her, “trying not to be so defensive when critiqued.” He turned to head back to the front of the room and glanced back over his shoulder. “Welcome.”
Elle looked at Mimi, who just rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Bobby looked around the room. “The focus this week is creating the perfectly planned pitch for the perfectly planned party. I know many of you are still trying to book yourselves for the holiday season.”
Elle heard enough. She jumped out of her seat and stormed out of the room before muttering “This is B.S.” She’d worked way too hard her entire adult life to listen to this.
Elle grabbed the folder with printed emails off her desk and marched into Dean’s office. She angrily pulled the sheets out of her file and slammed them down in front of him. Dean pulled back, blinking. “Is this what you’re trying to get out of us?”
Dean barely glanced down. “Elle, what on earth...”
“You think I need some sort of lesson on how to be a planner?”
“What? Where would you get that idea?”
“From the guy who thinks he’s due to become a partner here,” Elle barked.
He sighed. “Is it the planned perfection meeting that Starr holds?”
“Take a look at these, Dean. I pitched them all less than 24 hours ago. Seven out of ten already responded. Looks like I’m going to have my hands full. Unless I email them all back right now and tell them that my boss doesn’t think I’m capable of handling their event. He thinks I could use training.”
“That’s not what those meetings are about, Elle. I can assure you. What did Starr say that made you think that?”
“She wasn’t there,” Elle shouted just as Starr walked in, and Bobby behind her.
Dean focused on the first email in the pile, then flipped to the next one. Bobby looked smug, while Elle’s other boss looked highly irritated.
“Elle, did you walk out of my meeting,” Starr demanded.
“You weren’t even there,” she repeated.
“I was a little late and surprised to hear about your outburst. Elle, these meetings are essential for our success. Yes, there’s sharing your ideas and brainstorming, but there’s also a lot to learn.”
Was this woman serious? That training was insulting to her eight successful years in the industry. She turned to Dean who was not in the least bit engaged in the conversation. He was clutching the emails and skimming their content.
Bobby turned to Starr, “I appreciate your support. It was just extremely disruptive and completely counterproductive,” he spoke low, making Elle sound as though she were the irrational maniac.
“Of course it was. Elle won’t be disturbing our meetings anymore,” Starr started.
Dean shoved the emails back into the folder and handed them back to Elle. “No, she won’t be. She’ll be running them.”
Elle was definitely not expecting that.
Starr glared at Dean. “Dean, this is—”
“Highly unacceptable that Bobby doesn’t appreciate Elle’s history and knowledge. There’s plenty you can all learn from her experience at Brightman.” He turned to Bobby whose mouth fell open. “Bobby, have Erica reschedule today’s meeting to Monday.” He handed Elle back the folder. “You’re in Monday, right?”
“Of course.”
“Great, let’s talk about these tomorrow.” Finally, he turned back to Starr who had both hands in the air. “Starr, if there are other meetings you think Elle would benefit from, I’d like to be consulted first.”
Elle looked at Dean. She was never the ignorant type and didn’t like people assuming she was. She placed the emails back on his desk, gently this time. “You should hold on to those and disperse them as you like. I’ll keep searching till I find something I’m interested in.” She glanced at Starr’s direction, “You’ll also need it to justify what just happened here.”
Elle walked toward the door and stopped in front of Bobby. “Welcome. And please try not to be disruptive. See you Monday.”
Chapter 17
Scott
“This is
acceptable for the meantime, Harrison.” Scott took the conference call from one of Donovan’s private office suites on the executive floor Friday morning. He scrolled down the spreadsheet and business plan as he spoke. It still showed less effort than Scott expected but it was something. “More realistic timeline and I like the switch to less expensive vendors. Have you had anyone on your team research any of these?”
“Of course,” Todd answered almost too quickly. “I feel like we’ve done as much as we could on our end, Scott. Although I might be giving some serious thought to cutting our staff.”
Scott sat up in his chair. “Why is that? Do you feel you’re overstaffed?”
“Well, no I actually think we’re adequately staffed and pretty consistent with our clientele.”
Scott shook his head. He knew the answer to this but had to ask it. “Then why are you giving it serious thought, Todd?”
The other man went silent for a brief moment. Then spoke in aggravating circles.
“Understood,” Scott mumbled and shook his head. “Let me give you a call back, someone just walked in. Thanks.” Scott disconnected and rubbed his eyes before running both hands over his face. He was cutting this guy much more slack than he should.
This woman was getting to him. She was making him re-think his business strategies. How the hell could she have done that? No one, not even Donovan, had ever successfully shifted him off course. Scott never made the wrong assessments. He could see what the problem was after just one review of financial statements and business plans. And he was able to fix it—fast. The less time he spent on an account, the quicker he could get out and move on. Donovan had once joked that it was the same way Scott preferred his women. In, out and move on.
Sure, he wouldn’t consider himself the committing type, but he’d like to give himself a little more credit than that. There were lots of women Scott had given more than a single thought to. Well, more than a single night to. He didn’t do much thinking when it came to women. And apparently, he wasn’t doing much thinking when it came to Isabel, either. Luckily, she reminded him why he steered clear of women who got too involved in his life, personally or professionally.
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