Isabel?
Isabel walked into the room dressed in a white blouse and blue mini-skirt. She looked at Dean and opened her mouth to say something until she spotted him on the sofa, all the color instantly drained from her beautiful features. She looked as bad as he felt.
Dean scratched his forehead and went to stand in front of his desk. “Elle, this is Scott Weston. He’s our new…partner. Scott was also the one to land us the fashion show you ran last night.”
Isabel’s mouth dropped opened again and her chest hitched.
Scott was physically frozen himself, but his mind swirled with confusion, doubt and, anger.
“He was highly invested in this firm and the Ballard event was a big deal to us Elle,” Dean continued, his words somewhat a blur.
Elle tore her eyes from him and faced Dean. She seemed as though she lost her words and just swallowed.
“Elle, I’ve known you for a long time. You were one of Brightman’s best. You plan to perfection. What happened?”
Brightman? She worked for Ron?
Mentally shaking his head, he tried to snap out of the nightmare he was currently living. She had kept in the dark for so long about so much.
Elle took a minute before responding. “I don’t plan to perfection, Dean. Whoever told you that was fooled. That’s what I do. I fool people. I fool them into thinking that everything is running smoothly, but it never does. I completely flaked on the Hayes party, but the Winter Ballard was indeed planned to perfection. There was a cue that needed to happen towards the end and—well I got distracted,” she glanced at Scott.
He frowned, knowing instantly what she meant. Ron’s comment about Claudia and how it could appear to someone. He must have known Elle was there.
“What are you talking about? Donovan’s event went smoothly,” Starr argued.
No, he thought, putting more pieces together, I saw her. I interacted with her. I was unplanned that night and she had to fool me.
Elle laughed tiredly. “Nothing ever goes smoothly, Starr. If you ever worked in the field and were a true professional, you’d know.”
Dean’s solemn features turned angry and Scott stood instinctively. Dean seemed to recover and continued. “I think we’ve heard enough. Elle, we can’t have this at our firm, especially since…”
“Dean—wait, maybe this is—” Scott started.
“No Dean, please continue,” she demanded, without as much as a glance at Scott.
Both his new business partners looked at Scott questioningly, considering moments ago he’d insisted this employee be terminated immediately. How would he explain his change of heart without damaging her career and reputation? He’d have no power over what these two could do to her in that field.
Apparently, he had taken too long to answer and Dean took that as his cue to continue.
“We’re going to have to let you go. I’m sorry Elle; I thought you were better than this.”
Scott stalked to the window, for once, not knowing what to do.
Behind him, he heard Elle let out a short, yet shaky laugh. “No apologies necessary. I am better than this. Not in the work I delivered, but this firm. I do plan to perfection. It won’t always appear that way to me, but it will to my clients.”
Scott turned and looked at her.
“I did what had to be done in order for both events to go smoothly. And sometimes you have to get creative—like wear a fitting dress to remove an accidental raspberry from the guest of honor’s plate so she doesn’t have an allergic reaction.”
The napkin. Scott shook his head.
“Or hire an old flame who happens to be a photographer and owes you a favor. I guarantee you, Dean, Starr; it was done with every single job you ever booked,” she proclaimed. “But if you’re going to let some V.I.P. investor—who doesn’t even know how it works, come in here and tell you I’m not good enough—I thought you were better than this, Dean.” She blinked rapidly and took a breath. “It’s been a real pleasure,” she murmured before turning and leaving the room.
Scott moved from the window as soon as Elle shut the door behind her. His chest was heavy with guilt and anger. His emotions swirled inside him, clouding his thoughts. Why should he guilty? He owed her nothing. She lied to him from the start and continued to spend weeks deceiving him. For what? Had she known who he was? The surprised look on her face suggested that she didn’t.
Dean started, “Well, that was handled—”
“Dean, is there a private conference room where I can speak with Ms. Rybeck alone?”
Dean glared at Scott for a moment. “You can use room B.”
Chapter 34
Elle
Completely flushed and rushing to get the hell out of that building as fast as she could, Elle speed walked to her desk to gather her things. Thankfully, there was nothing that didn’t fit in her daily tote.
Leave everything else.
Grateful to have finally reached the elevator, she pushed the button and willed herself to ignore the peering eyes. How much of this was going to ruin her career?
How much did she care?
She wanted to care; she wanted to worry more about her career at that moment than Scott so heavily involved and invested in the company she worked for all along. She couldn’t wait to get in the elevator so she could bang her head against the door seventeen times. Her heartbreak now combined with utter humiliation.
Like music to her ears, the bell chimed and the stainless-steel doors opened. She stepped in and released the breath she’d been holding. She turned in place just as a familiar hand grabbed hold of one of the slow-moving doors.
“Ms. Rybeck, could we have a quick word in conference room B please?” Scott appeared a foot from her, holding the doors in place. His tone was even and his face expressionless.
“I—I’m sorry, I need to be going. I’ve said everything I needed to.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have.” With only a slight twist of his head, he glanced at the surrounding cubicles and drafting tables with people watching them. He turned back and pinned her with his eyes. She didn’t miss the warning promise that he wouldn’t hesitate to cause a scene.
“Maybe I could spare a minute,” Elle whispered.
She followed him inside the corner conference room.
Scott crossed to the opposite end of the room. He stood facing the windows; she’d witnessed him do the same in his apartment after a disagreement with a business owner.
She took a deep silent breath.
“Close the door,” he ordered, facing away from her.
Fixating her jaw tightly, she swallowed some words and closed the door lightly. “Scott, I don’t think...”
He spun around but didn’t face her; instead he strode past her curiously observing the staff through the aggravatingly spotless glass walls.
“Tell me,” he began, in a formal, authoritative tone, “which of these loyal and tenured employees—my employees—is your assistant?”
“None of them,” she answered flatly.
With his eyes still wandering around the crowded floor, he nodded, then placed his hands in his pockets and turned to finally face her. His eyes were cold, not hurt as she would have expected. He didn’t even look disappointed. He looked as if HR had just caught her laundering money from his company, or as if she’d been caught to be a mole that he trusted. Either way, it was a look she’d imagined he’d given to business associates. Not someone he claimed he belonged with less than twelve hours ago.
If his attempt was to make her feel as inferior to him as possible, he was regrettably succeeding.
She avoided calling out his name again, since he was making it clear, it wasn’t like that. “I was planning on telling you when we met today.”
Scott glanced at his watch. “Well it looks like your morning just freed up,” he glared at her, “You’re on my time now.”
“No I’m not,” she answered sternly, lifting her head and raising her voice to make that clear.
“What exactly were you planning on telling me?” He leaned against one of the window columns.
“Everything.”
He jeered, then a short moment went by before he spoke. “You saw me at the event with Claudia,” he stated.
“Is that her name,” she acknowledged, barely posing a question.
His eyes shot to her. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that last night?”
“That’s not why I ended things, Scott; I don’t break up with someone over jealousy. You know me better than that.”
“That was really the wrong thing to say right now, Elle,” he practically shouted.
She glanced back at the glass walls toward the on looking staff, then looked down. “Why did you call me in here if you’re not going to let me explain?” she asked quietly, hoping he’d take the hint to lower his voice.
He glared at her. “Because I can’t believe a single word you say,” he answered through gritted teeth.
Her heart sank and words became hard to form. She swallowed the ball in her throat. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“Why then?”
She’d take that as a no. “You already know that I was not a guest at Donovan’s party.”
“People will start to get curious. Get to the point.”
“We’re...from two different worlds.” That was ultimately the point.
“What world are you from, Elle?”
“Stop it, Scott, you know what I mean.” She took two steps toward him. “Let’s say I told you last night; I’m not the successful entrepreneur, socialite, high dollar event goer you assumed I was.”
“Assumed?” His eyes bulged before he shook his head and turned away, but not before she caught the glimpse of hurt she’d expected before.
She stood frozen, unable to move, because all she wanted was to reach for him. Make him look at her and let him know everything else was real. Why couldn’t she just screw everyone watching and just do it? This might be the only chance she’d get.
But that wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t affectionate in public, especially in sensitive situations.
He knew that and he was using it.
“I’m sorry. Whether it was at Mrs. Hayes’ chair or waiting for the cab outside the venue, or the next morning at the cafe...I should have told you. But it kept getting harder…” when her voice cracked, she knew it was time to get the hell out of there and fast.
He turned back to face her, the hurt plain on his face. “So it was easier to break up with me?”
She folded her arms in an effort to keep herself from reaching for him. She looked down and answered in a low voice. “No, that was nearly impossible.”
He breathed out an unamused laugh, which hurt her to the core. “And now I find you here. Living your true life...”
This life hadn’t felt true to her for a while now. But he probably wouldn’t have remembered her sharing this sad reality with him weeks ago. She fought the tears that threatened to escape. “If we’re done here, I’m going to go.”
“We most certainly are,” he confirmed.
She turned to start the short walk to the door.
“I can get you your job back,” he muttered, facing the window.
“I appreciate that. But maybe you haven’t been listening. I’m more than this. I have been for a while and maybe this is the push I needed.”
His head fell to his side as if he wanted to turn back to her but caught himself.
“Goodbye, Scott.”
Chapter 35
Scott
Scott took a seat at the narrow end of the conference table. He buried his head in his hands for only a short moment before running a hand over his face and urging himself to pull it together as his staff was no doubt still peering into the room from a distance.
He snickered at the consideration of his own interest. More than he’d afforded Elle. He was keenly aware of her dislike of public display of anything.
The door opened slowly. Scott didn’t have to turn to know it was Dean. No one else on that floor would dare walk through it right now.
“Everything alright?”
Scott glanced in his direction but didn’t respond to the stupid question.
Dean nodded slowly, then turned to push a button by the door, near the light switch. A humming noise sounded and silver shades gradually rolled down each glass wall. In a few seconds, they were in complete privacy from the rest of the floor.
Scott sighed and shook his head. He wondered how much more he would have gotten out of Elle if he knew that was an option.
Dean crossed the room to sit opposite Scott. After a long silence, he finally leaned back. “So, how do you know her?”
Scott rubbed his temples and looked up at his old friend. “The party,” he replied miserably.
“This weekend?”
“Hayes”
“Hayes?” Dean livened and pushed off the back of his chair in surprise.
Scott lifted his head. “The raspberry.”
Dean threw his head back in laughter. “Oh man. What are you going to do?”
Scott didn’t know the honest answer to that. But he knew how to respond. He frowned and jerked back a little. “I just did it.”
Something shifted in Dean’s expression and he stood abruptly. “Well I’m going to undo it.” He crossed to the door. “You forced my hand back there and put Starr and me under pressure to fire one of our best. One of the city’s best,” he shouted. “I’m calling Elle. Hell, I’ll give her a promotion if that’s what it takes.”
“Don’t bother,” Scott mumbled. “She doesn’t want it.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve known Elle for years; she loves this job. She’s remarkable at it. Last night was just—”
“Last night was my fault,” Scott rose to his feet and buttoned his jacket. “I haven’t known Elle very long. But she was probably right about one thing; she is better than this. And I wish her well.” He crossed to Dean, who was holding the door open. Scott stopped before him. “But she won’t be coming back here.”
In the elevator, all Scott could think about was that Isabel had been in that same elevator just a few moments ago. He pushed down the annoying sting of regret of not taking the ride down with her instead of forcing her into the goddamn fishbowl.
Honestly, this shouldn’t have been a surprise to him. Scott was always good at reading people; he knew when he was being lied to. In fact, thinking back now, he could probably pinpoint exactly at what point she was lying.
Truth be told, and no pun intended there, they weren’t all that bad. It wasn’t about who she was or what she was passionate about, it was all superficial stuff. Stuff, as she correctly suspected, he would have guessed from someone he met at Donovan’s party.
Scott ran his hand through his face again as the elevator doors opened to the bright lobby and an angry tall blond in a hurry nearly ran into him. He grabbed onto her shoulders as he realized who it was.
“Claudia.”
“Scott,” she raged as he pushed her out of the doorframe and back into the lobby. “I want answers for last night. I suppose you’re here for the same reason?”
“It’s all taken care of,” he announced rapidly, letting the doors close without her in it.
That only seemed to have frustrated her even more. Her eyes bulged and she appeared moments away from punching someone. “I was really looking forward to yelling at someone today, Scott.”
“Get a grip Claudia.”
“Excuse me?”
“You had some ridiculous demands of this firm for their planning and they came through, unbelievably,” his tone was stern and accusing. “Which reminded me why I should have never gone into business with you again. You set one foot upstairs or make any kind of threats to my business partners, I will make sure that all my contacts are generously warned.”
Claudia opened her mouth, a rebuttal prepared.
“And that’s not slander, sweetheart, that’s business.”
Scott walked out of the building. Dark clouds had spread across the late morning sky and the wind grew strong. Thunder rolled in the distance. He hated that his first instinct was to search for her, but he knew she’d been long gone.
And it was probably better that way.
Chapter 36
Elle
Elle ignored all calls for the rest of the afternoon. She eventually acknowledged a text from Mimi shortly after she raced out of there.
Hope you’re okay. Let me know if you want to talk. Not sure if this helps or hurts, but that was the VIP that looked for you that one morning.
She had made her way to her shower after coming home drenched and drained. What little battery she had left after an endless and unrelenting Sunday night, she’d used up in Dean’s office.
God that felt good. It felt right.
She sprawled across her sofa. She was giving herself this time to be alone and sulk. Eventually, she’d be so consumed by everything she’d have no choice but to finally fall asleep.
Sometime later, it had appeared to be exactly what happened. She walked to her kitchen for a glass of water. She also grabbed three stale pretzels out of a bowl left on the counter, and a multivitamin.
That should do the trick for now.
She fell asleep for what seemed like a day and a half when she heard footsteps in her apartment. She sprinted up and found Char tiptoeing in.
“Hey,” her friend whispered, setting the spare keys she’d given her on the table.
“Hi.”
“You never called me last night to tell me how it went. It’s barely six o’clock, how long have you been home from work sleeping?”
Elle held herself up by her elbows. She stared at her friend for a moment before tears sprung out of her like a loose fire hydrant.
Elle’s story poured out of her in somewhat audible intervals. She wasn’t sure at what point Char had squeezed onto the couch next to her and wrapped an arm around her.
“You know what’s funny? I was afraid to either lose my job or lose him and consequently lose focus during one of my biggest projects,” she blinked in confusion. “What kind of sick joke is it that all of those things happened anyway?”
Planned to Perfection Page 16