by Whitney G.
* * *
He never responded, and by the time the third cake was eaten and the final song played, my coworkers were filing out of the room.
I waited until only a few people were left and headed toward his office.
“Wait a second.” Cynthia stepped in front of me. “I want to apologize for the way I treated you when you first got here. You didn’t deserve that.”
I smiled. “I accept your apology.”
“I also wanted to say thank you for recommending me as Violet’s interim nanny. Now that I’m engaged, it’s been a godsend to have a less stressful job here.” Her cheeks turned red like they usually did when she was about to ask me for something. “I wanted to know if you could ask Mr. Parker if I could be her full-time nanny, since he’s been interviewing like three people a day and still hasn’t found one.”
“Why can’t you ask him yourself?”
She looked at me as if I’d grown two heads. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll consider it. You’ve done a great job so far.”
“Mr. Parker doesn’t consider anything—even the ties he wears, without asking you first,” she said. “Every time I tell him there’s someone on the line with a proposal, he asks me if you’ve read it first. None of the no-people ever go through.”
“Violet is a different matter, Cynthia.”
“No.” She shook her head. “She isn’t. And you know that whether you still work here or not, that he’ll ask you to give your opinion on his final choice anyway.”
He did mention that a few weeks ago. “Okay, I’ll let him know that he should consider you, but Violet has the final decision.”
“Thank you,” she said. “One last thing, Miss Lauren. Did I ever tell you that Mr. Parker found out about our betting pool?”
“No. Did he make you cancel it?”
“Not at all.” She smiled. “He joined in.”
Figures. “Good to know. Why are you telling me this?”
“Because he won.” She smiled as she headed to the door. “He said you’d last at least two years.” She wished me luck one last time before leaving the room.
I stopped by my desk and picked up a file box for Preston before walking to his office.
To my surprise, he wasn’t on his phone, and he wasn’t in the middle of a meeting. He was just sitting at his desk, glaring at nothing at all.
“Hey.” I stepped inside and shut the door. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer. He looked me up and down as always, letting a smile cross his lips, but he didn’t let it stay.
“What’s going on, Miss Lauren?” he asked.
“Well, I have everything you need for your final meeting with Mr. Von Strum.” I set my box on his desk and pulled out a package of pens. “Make sure you take these when you go and not one of your over the top priced pens, as you know he hates displays of wealth. Also, make sure that you take him somewhere affordable for dinner.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“Yes.” I pulled out a color-coded binder that read, The Do It Your Goddamn Self List. “I made this for you. I’ve taught Taylor quite a bit over the past few weeks, but I know it’s going to take him some time to truly get the hang of things, so whenever you feel like you need a second opinion or want something simple done, flip through here before you fire him, okay?”
He took it from me, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’ve placed additional copies in your desk and other places in the office you frequent,” I said, smiling. “Oh, and I want you to know that even though the first two years were hard for me, the last six weeks were amazing. I hope we can still see each other as much, even though we’ll be working separately, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” he said. “I wish I could say I felt the same about you, but I don’t. And after you walk out of my office today, I don’t want to see you again.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I don’t want to expose Violet to your traitorous behavior.”
“Is this some type of walk down memory lane thing?” I smiled. “There’s definitely a chocolate drop in your coffee, and I’ve told Taylor countless times how particular you are about getting it at the right temperature.”
“This is not about a chocolate drop,” he said, his voice terse. “This is about you fucking betraying me on every level possible.”
“Preston, what are you talking about?”
“You told me your top two choices for your next job were LimeCorps and Tate-Hills. You said that after working at either of those for a year, that you were going to work for yourself. You didn’t say shit about Marriott.”
I sighed. I was saving this conversation for tonight over dinner.
“Do you have any idea how messed up this is?” he said, glaring at me.
“It’s only a one-year interim position,” I said. “Their offer was the best out of the three, and I was definitely going to tell you.”
“When? On your first fucking day?”
“Preston …”
“Of all the places in this city to choose to go to after working for me, surely you can see that this as a conflict of interest personally and professionally.” He was talking so loudly that I couldn’t get a word in. “You’ve just quit the number one luxury hotel brand to work at the number two luxury hotel brand. You were my right hand, my confidant, my everything.” He slammed his fist on the table. “What do you think that board of directors is thinking about their competition right now after hiring you?”
“You’ve always said they’re not your competition.”
“They’re not.” He stood to his feet. “To me, anyway. I am to them. Don’t you think they’ll ask you questions about everything you’ve learned here over the past two years?”
“I’m acting as a general counsel. I won’t be involved with the CEO’s day to day decisions, and I’m only there to get some additional experience in running a company. A different company,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “And if you must know, I happen to like working in the hotel industry.”
“Then you can stay here and do that shit.” He hissed. “I told you I’d give you anything you wanted to stay. Anything.”
“With all due respect, I need to learn all the different layers of the industry, and I need to learn from another type of leadership. I can’t work under you anymore, in any capacity. I didn’t think that—”
“You didn’t think at all.” He cut me off. “If you’d told me you were even considering applying there, I would’ve told you that the CEO is a liar and whatever he promised you won’t happen. I would’ve also told you that there’s no way I’m going to continue dating you and sleeping with you at night, while you’re talking to him every damn day.”
“I really wish you would give me a chance to explain,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “This isn’t what you think it is, and I’ve done my due diligence to make sure that there isn’t a conflict of interest.”
“It was a conflict of interest the moment you took an interview with them and didn’t tell me,” he said, clenching his jaw. “Get the hell out of my office. Now.”
“Excuse me?”
“Get the hell out of my office,” he repeated the words, harsher this time. “Surely you have an office at Marriott where you can waste your breath and talk about all the things you didn’t think about. I’ve heard enough.”
“Preston—”
“I never got the chance to call security on you the day we met.” He picked up his phone. “Would you like me to finally make up for that?”
“I dare you.” I was seconds away from losing it. “If you’d stop talking so damn much for once and finally listen to someone other than yourself, you’d see that we’re saying the same thing. I do want to work for myself.”
“But not before you work for Marriott, right? That’s why you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t tell you, because I knew how you would react.”
“So, you knew this was coming?” He pressed a button his phone, still glaring at me. “I need someone to remove Miss Lauren from my property. Now. And while we’re at it, she’s officially persona non grata at all my hotels. Make sure the staff who work the breakfast bars are well aware of this fact just in case she shows up there again.”
I shook my head. “Thank you for showing me that you’re exactly who I thought you were when I first started here. Thank you for also showing me that the past six weeks meant nothing to you.”
“The door is behind you. You don’t need to talk in order to walk out of it.”
“I can guarantee that I’ll never talk to you again.”
“Then why are your lips still moving?”
I knocked the box off his desk and stormed out of his office. I took the elevator down to the lobby, not bothering to get one last look at my corner office.
Thirty-Two
Tara
Subject: Starting Day & An Amendment
Mr. Greywood,
If possible, I’d like to start my new position as your general counsel this week instead of next week.
Thank you,
Tara Lauren
Marriott International
One Week Later
Thirty-Three
Preston
The mid-scale restaurant I was currently sitting in reminded me why I tended to avoid places like this as much as possible. The waiters were all high school students who were far more interested in talking to each other than taking my order, the kitchen was damn near out of everything I wanted to eat, and the manager was definitely on the phone with Page Six from the wicked gleam in her eye and the way she kept waving at me from across the room.
We need to get this shit over with.
I waited until after the “dessert” of packaged ice cream sandwiches was served and set the signing papers on the table.
“Will Miss Lauren be joining us for this momentous occasion?” Mr. Von Strum smiled at me from across the table. “I was hoping to see her one last time.”
“Miss Lauren is an official traitor to Parker Hotels International, and she will not be present at any meetings moving forward.”
“What?”
George kicked me under the table. “What he meant to say was that Miss Lauren is unable to make it tonight, but she wanted to let you know that she’s happy we could finally settle on great terms.”
“Well, is there any way I could call her?” he asked. “I just want to thank her.”
“For what?” I said. “Leaving? Going off to be with the enemy?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of getting me to see what all your company is going to do with my chain, Mr. Parker. She was great to work with, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. I found her quite average.”
“Preston, enough.” George tossed his napkin onto the table. “Mr. Von Strum, can you excuse us for one minute, please?” He stood up and glared at me, motioning for me to follow him onto the restaurant’s balcony.
He demanded that all the wait staff leave us alone, and the second they were gone, he crossed his arms. “Are you out of your mind, Preston? You’ve been chasing this deal for too damn long to lose it over your anger for Miss Lauren.”
“Can you believe she went there?”
“Preston, we’ve talked about this all week. All. Week.”
“Have we?” I shook my head. “You’re the one who told me she was going to Marriott.”
“I honestly regret that,” he said, sighing. “Look. I didn’t have all the facts. I just assumed that she was going to be an executive assistant again and that she would be used as a way for them to get insider tips on what we do at Parker International.”
“Isn’t that what she’s doing there?”
“She’s the acting general counsel, but only until their real general counsel comes back from an extended leave.”
“It’s the same shit.”
“I’m your general counsel, and I can tell you that it isn’t.” He paused. “Besides, she came to me a few days ago to amend her employment contract with them, so even if they did try to get her to say anything, she can’t legally.”
“There’s no way they agreed to that shit.” I was still hurt as hell. “What hotel CEO in their right mind would hire her and not ask her anything about working for me?”
“I’m sure a ton of them would.” He shrugged, then he smiled. “But she added some fascinating fine print that will prevent her from answering anything. Some of the same fine print that someone else used behind my back.”
“She used white ink?”
“Not only did she use white ink at the end of her contract, but she also added little notes throughout the first part of the contract in white ink as well.”
I held back a smile. I was still pissed.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” he said. “I need you to go in there and not think about Miss Lauren for all of five minutes, so we can seal this deal.”
“Not thinking about her won’t be a problem.”
“That’s why you’ve been checking on her via the concierge at her condo all week, right?”
I said nothing.
“Five minutes, Preston.” He pointed to the doors. “That’s it.”
We returned to the table, and Mr. Von Strum was standing to his feet.
“We’re so sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Von Strum,” George said, panicked. “Are you no longer interested in signing the deal with us?”
“Not even close.” He smiled and pointed to the papers, his signature freshly inked on each one. “I just want to get the hell out of here, as I refuse to believe that Mr. Parker takes his business guests to a place where the waiters have yet to realize that they’ve only served us dessert and nothing else.”
“You’re correct.” I smiled and placed his papers into my briefcase. “I thought you liked cheap, dive-bar food.”
“I do, but I never said I didn’t appreciate an expensive meal on someone else’s dime.” He laughed. “Show me where you’d dine on a night like this, Mr. Parker.”
“Fair enough.” I shook his hand and led him and George to the gum-stained elevator.
“Would you like me to drive?” he asked. “I’m sure your chauffeur is going to have a hell of a time getting down here in the traffic.”
“There’s no need to drive.” I pulled out my phone. “I took my helicopter here.”
He shook his head. “You have nothing else better to do with your money, do you?”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I have a niece who doesn’t give a damn about it and only wants to play with fifty cent cardboard boxes and teddy bears?”
He laughed and patted my shoulder. “Only a little.”
Thirty-Four
Tara
I walked through the doors at Marriott International for another day, shutting my office door behind me. Heartbroken and angry, I was still so wired into Preston’s life, that I was still having my new town car driver taking me to Sweet Seasons every morning, and some of Preston’s old contacts were still calling my phone and telling me things I no longer cared about.
Since I wasn’t petty like he was, I forwarded all those calls to his new assistant, and even sent Cynthia text messages about little things I happened to remember from time to time. Then again, since I’d learned a thing or two from his petty playbook, I blocked all his phone numbers and deleted them. (Yes, even though I knew them all by heart.)
Ugh. Fuck him.
I pulled up my new CEO’s schedule for the day and pulled out my notepad, so I could take some notes.
Brunch meeting regarding property contracts, afternoon Skype session about legal fees with the Voight Company, and an inventory session with the interns.
I refreshed the schedule again, knowing that this couldn’t be right. Yet, no matter how many times I refreshed it, those three meetings were the only things that appeared. I looked at the schedule for the entire week and saw that there were only tw
o to three events per day.
That’s it?
I picked up my desk phone and called his secretary.
“Good morning, Miss Lauren!” she answered on the first ring. “Is everything going okay during your first week?”
“It’s been more than okay so far.”
“Well, great! How may I help you?”
“I was looking over the schedule for Mr. Greywood, and there are only two to three things a day. Is there a private calendar I’m missing?”
“No, that’s right. Mr. Greywood likes to keep his days simple and stress-free.”
“Well, since most of these meetings are already handled, do you have any idea what his current general counsel would do? I don’t want to contact him about this just yet, since I’m trying to be a great interim, you know?”
“If I were you, I would just enjoy the lush job, Miss Lauren,” she said, sounding genuine. “Mr. Greywood doesn’t trust women, and he hired you and me to make himself look good on the outside. His true general counsel is a guy named Bob who he trusts with his life. But that job is so hectic, that no woman would be able to handle it. Trust me.” She laughed. “Treat yourself to one of our spas downstairs, answer a few emails, and check on things every hour or so. Then take a breath and smile because you officially have the best job in all of New York.”
“Right …”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, but thank you and the rest of the staff for the sweets basket.”
“We didn’t send you that sweets basket,” she said. “That came from Preston Parker.” She ended the call, and I stared at the basket—tempted to toss it into the trash.
The last thing I needed right now was any memories of him. I stood up and left my office, hitting the lights.
I’d rather take her up on that spa offer.
Two Weeks Later