Love's Chance
Page 14
The red boxer briefs he wore hugged his muscled thighs. The white waistband encircled his pale skin. Her body tingled with anticipation of having him inside of her.
“Sinclair, I don’t have a condom.”
She considered his words. “Chance, we’ve already been together, we live together. We’ve both been checked, and tested. I want to feel you.”
Chance didn’t speak. He smiled, and kissed her hard. The force of his kiss sent her backwards on his desk. He flipped her body around to the length of the desk. She tucked her hands into the waistband of the briefs, and slid her hands over his butt and legs as she removed his underwear. His body stretched the length of hers. He covered her body with his as she lay on top of his desk.
Defiant of everything and everyone they made love in the middle of Carni’s corporate offices.
Much later that night, Chance hovered over his laptop. He shifted money around in various accounts, shut the computer down, and quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom in an effort not to wake Sinclair. It took three orgasms, and two glasses of wine to get her to sleep. He knew he wanted to love, and take care of her, but now because of him, her last thirty days at Carni’s were much harder than they needed to be.
It was late, but he knew he was always welcome to call Georgia. He picked up the phone, and dialed. Mrs. Mosley answered.
“Hello, Mrs. Mosley.” He sat on his couch, and turned on the television. He quickly muted the sound.
“Hi Baby. Why are you still awake?”
“Today was a rough day. Sinclair went through a lot. She’s sleeping now.”
“Is she okay?” asked Mrs. Mosley with a voice filled with worry.
“Yes, ma’am. She’s okay.”
She sighed. “And what about you, Sweetie?”
Chance ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m fine. I just didn’t want this to happen. I wanted her to leave here okay.”
“Don’t worry about our Clair. She’s stronger than she looks.”
Chance rolled his head in circles. His neck popped in three places.
“I’m not worried, but I don’t want her to be unhappy. I had this great big plan, and my plan made things worse.”
“Well, Sweetie, we’ve had people working on her Granny’s house night and day. She’s going to love it. And we love you. We always wanted our Clair to find someone like you.”
“Umm, Mrs. Mosley—”
“Sweetie, are you getting cold feet.”
Chance had absolutely no doubts about his plans with Sinclair.
“Cold feet? No ma’am.”
“Well, Sweetie, don’t you worry about anything down here. You do what you need to do, and everything else will be okay.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Mr. Mosley wants to speak to you, but you get some sleep, and give him a call back tomorrow, when you have time.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And you might as well stop calling me ma’am. Mom will do just fine.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Good night, baby.”
Chance hung up the phone, walked back to the bedroom, and snuggled up with Sinclair. He had to speed up his plan.
Tucked away at a small table nestled against a window at the back of the little American cuisine restaurant, Sinclair sipped on chicken noodle soup. She stared into the bowl as if it held answers for her future. Maybe the noodles would spell out the answers to her questions. She watched the twisted egg noodles surrounded by pieces of carrots and celery and waited.
Nothing happened.
“Sinclair.”
Sinclair looked up from her magic bowl of soup to see Zulema Vargas—Director of Diversity, and Jill Smith—Director of Human Resources. Why were they both here? Where they following her? The magic soup had no answers. Not even a quiver.
Both of them made themselves comfortable. They pulled up chairs, and motioned to the waitress to switch their orders to her table.
Sympathetic and cautious, Jill asked, “Sinclair, how are you doing?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Good. Thank you,” said Jill.
Sinclair made eye contact with Zulema. “And you Zulema?”
“Very good. Thank you.”
“Great. So, why are you ladies here?”
The women exchanged knowing glances. Zulema spoke. “We’re here to check on you. I wanted to know how you were handling things. You only have a few more weeks here.”
Jill echoed the sentiment. “I wish I could move you to my department. I wish this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Thank you Jill, but as everyone knows, I’ve moved out of my apartment. In a few weeks, I’m going home.”
The waitress brought over their plates of food, and set it out in front of them. They thanked the waitress, and continued their conversation.
“Sinclair, the things you are going through I’ve experienced.”
Sinclair looked deep into the brown eyes of the petite dark skinned Puerto Rican across from her. She knew they weren’t sitting in front of her because of her. They wanted to protect themselves. They wanted to protect Carni’s. To make sure she didn’t have any intentions of suing or causing any problems after she left. So, there was no need to hide her feelings, and let them know exactly how she was feeling, and what she was thinking.
“I can’t believe all of this is over my falling in love with a man. I really wanted to work hard while I was here, and gain the respect of my co-workers.”
“People respect you, Sinclair,” said Jill.
Sinclair stared at the beautiful blonde beside her. How could she understand? But maybe she did. She is a woman working in a male dominant environment.
“Thank you, Jill.”
Jill took her time forming her next sentence. “Sinclair, I have to ask you. How is this going to affect your relationship with Carni’s?”
Ah Ha! The true reason they interrupted her lunch. Both women sat over their empty plates and waited.
“What do you mean?”
Nervously, Jill searched for words, and asked Zulema for assistance. “Zulema, what are we trying to ask here?”
“Sinclair, frankly, I guess we’re asking, if you plan to take action against Carni’s or any of Carni’s employees?”
Sinclair pushed her plate away from her, and leaned back in her chair. “Oh, I get it. You want to know if I plan on trying to file any sort of lawsuit against Carni’s? Is that why you’ve both been sitting here talking to me?”
Both women faces flushed. Jill’s wan reflection looked almost brick house red, while Zulema’s darker complexion had more of a burgundy tint.
“Sinclair, we were not trying to trick you,” said Jill.
“No, you know we respect you,” said Zulema.
“Sure. Well, ladies, I do not know what I am going to do right now. What I know is I’ve only got a few more weeks here. I have to complete my papers, and take care of a few other things including having you ladies and Daniel complete reviews of me.”
“We have been working on those reviews.” Jill handed Sinclair two manila folders. Both contained lengthy printouts addressed to the committee reviewing Sinclair’s program. Jill gave Sinclair another file folder. “Also, if you could review, and sign this document, too, we could put this whole ugly mess behind us.”
Sinclair flipped the folder open. “What is this?”
Jill said, “It’s basically a document that says you were satisfied with your experience here at Carni’s, and you will help us over the next few weeks train your replacement, and you have no outstanding concerns or issues with personnel or Carni’s management?
Sinclair couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“What? This sounds like some sort of waiver. You guys sit here and tell me you understand. You don’t know why this happened. You wish I could work in your departments, and then you hand me some sort of ten page long waiver which seems to let everyone off the hook.”
Both women said, “No, no—”
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“Don’t worry about it. I will read everything. I will think it all over, and let you know what I’m going to do.”
Sinclair called the waitress over, paid her tab, and left.
She drove back to Carni’s corporate office. She sat in the parking lot, and marveled at the reflective metal building. From the outside, it shined like a beacon along the roadside. On a beautiful sunny day, from a distance, it almost sparkled.
She walked through the automatic doors on her way to Daniel’s office, but midway she made a right turn. A turn that lead her toward Raquel. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but she was going to say something.
Raquel wasn’t there.
So, she went to Michael Dickinson’s office. His office door was closed. Michael hated when people dropped in on him without notice. His secretary was so nervous when people just popped up you would think she would hyperventilate, and pass out on the floor.
“Tiffany, I need to see Michael. It’s very important. Do you know how long his meeting will last?”
Tiffany’s L-shaped desk wrapped around her with a small partition hiding her from people walking through the hallway, but from her vantage point, she could see directly into Michael’s office, and he could see her, but no one else. Tiffany usually asked all visitors to whisper, to ensure Michael wouldn’t be disturbed.
Softly, she said, “I’m not sure. He’s in there with Raquel.”
“Raquel!”
Sinclair didn’t want to get Tiffany in trouble, so she lowered her voice. “Walk away from your desk, now.”
Tiffany stared for a moment, but then she obeyed, and quietly she rose and walked away.
Sinclair waited for a second, inhaled deeply, and then she tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. She walked in.
“Hello Michael, Raquel.”
Both of them looked up at Sinclair with surprised expressions.
Michael stood. “Sinclair, what are you doing in my office?”
Raquel didn’t move.
She took a deep breath, but then she let go. “Michael, you and your daughter involved yourself in my personal life for no reason. I’ve never done anything to either of you. I came here to work. I understand a father’s commitment to his daughter, but you were willing to risk people’s jobs for what? Nothing. A spoiled girl’s pride.”
“What!” exclaimed Raquel.
“Raquel, grow up. You’ve played so many high school games that it makes absolutely no sense.”
Michael pointed at the door. “Sinclair, you can leave my office, now.”
“Michael, I will be leaving. But, so will both of you.”
Raquel and Michael glared at Sinclair, and then they looked at each other.
“What does that mean?” asked Raquel.
She wasn’t sure herself, but if two of the company’s damage control hounds were sent to sniff her out on her lunch, she was sure there was something she could do, but she just didn’t know what it was, yet. “Raquel, I think you are smart enough to figure it out.”
She walked out of the door leaving it wide open. She could hear Michael and Raquel’s heated conversation behind her. Michael called for Tiffany. She passed Tiffany standing up against the wall out of sight from Michael.
“Tiffany, I think he wants you.”
Tiffany scurried back to her desk; grabbed a steno pad, and pen, and entered Michael’s office, closing the door behind her.
Sinclair continued on to Daniel’s office.
She was on a roll. If she was going to drown, she might as well go down hard. Daniel sat at his desk surrounded by windows. His phone was at his ear. He hung up when she walked in.
“Daniel.”
“Sinclair, sit down.”
“No, Daniel, I have a few things to say.”
“Don’t you think you’ve said enough?” He steepled his hands, and glanced out of the window for awhile. Then he spoke. “I’ve been on the phone with everyone. I haven’t been able to leave my desk. What are you doing, just walking through the building yelling at everybody.”
“Daniel—”
“Sinclair listen. I know what you are feeling. I’ve spoken with Jill and Zulema. I told them I didn’t agree with what they did. Ambushing you at the damn restaurant with papers protecting Carni’s. As for Michael and Raquel, I don’t know what to say. But you will stop, now.”
“Daniel they all deserved every word.”
“Yes they did, but you…we can do it better.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. You don’t have to run around like you are crazy.”
Sinclair couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She thought Daniel would be protecting his own butt, not trying to help her.
“Show me the stuff Zulema and Jill gave you.”
Sinclair had forgotten about the folders, but she still had them in her hands. They were crushed, but they were there. She handed them to Daniel.
“Let’s take a look at these, make a few phone calls, and see what we can do.”
The vice around her head loosened. “Thank you, Daniel.”
Chapter Thirteen
Chance walked out of Raquel’s office laughing. Apparently, Sinclair had the same thing in mind he did. Raquel sat behind her desk red-eyed with a worried expression on her face surrounded by her entourage…all except for one—Bridget. Before he could say anything, Veronica jumped to her rescue.
“What are you doing here? Did you come to yell at her like your girlfriend?” Veronica doted on Raquel as short body jerking sobs washed over her. With each sob, she caressed the length of Raquel’s red mane.
He didn’t know what was going on, but he did plan to do some yelling.
“What are you talking about, Veronica?”
“It’s okay, Veronica. She’s talking about your wild friend walking into my father’s office without an appointment, screaming at me and my father about you and her...saying your lives are your lives,” Raquel waved a hand in the air in rhythm with her next three words, “etc., etc., etc.”
Smiling he responded, “Oh.”
“‘Oh’, is that all you have to say?” asked Raquel’s guard. Veronica dropped her hands from Raquel’s shoulders, and rounded the desk to square off with Chance. Her hands rested on her hips. He met her challenge, and she retreated closer to the desk. With a wipe of his hand across his face, he hid his smile. “Yeah, is that all?
You and Sinclair owe me an apology,” said Raquel.
Sidestepping Veronica, he walked toward the desk, placed both hands on the edge, and leaned forward. “Apology? For what? Are you really insane Raquel?”
“Insane?”
“Yes. You’ve been trying to sabotage us. Since the beginning, but you couldn’t, and now you spread all sorts of rumors about why we live together. You’ve got some nerve telling people she got me drunk, and I got her pregnant, and she refused to abort the baby, so I was stuck. If she were pregnant, I’d marry her today if she’d have me.”
Hot pink flooded her face. “What?”
Veronica shuffled behind him. He shot her a quick glare, and she stilled. He glanced around the room at her other mignons. No one spoke. Some shifted their eyes away as he met their stares, then he turned his attention back to Raquel.
“She would never have to get me drunk,” he glanced up and down Raquel. Strawberry blonde, pale skin, green eyes, petite—attractive. Attitude. A spoiled, privileged brat. Never worked hard for anything in her life. “But you did. Remember?”
“What?” Wildly, Raquel threw things from her desk: notepads, pencils, pens. He ducked, but she caught him with the paperclip holder. “Get out of my office.”
“Now,” laughter broke up his words, “who’s yelling?”
“Get out. Get out.” The color of her face blended with her hair.
Veronica tried to hold her to get her to stop throwing things, but she slapped Veronica, and kept throwing. “Leave me alone. You get out, too. Get out all of you.”
Veronica walked out behind
Chance with sad puppy dog eyes.
He couldn’t find Sinclair. He went to his office, and called Steve.
Steve answered, “Hello.”
“Steve, I’ve thought about everything we’ve been discussing. It’s not going to work for me. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from Michael or someone soon. I won’t be staying at Carni’s as a matter of fact.I won’t be staying with ScanData.”
“Chance, let’s discuss this face to face.”
“No need really, Steve. You let me know where you stood on all of this. This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to finish this job. You can send Kristin back, and I can get her up to speed on everything.”
“Chance, you are moving too fast.”
“No, I should’ve moved faster. You’ve got about three weeks. Also, I’m going to need to work from home for about a week, too. Alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Okay?”
Steve didn’t respond.
“Well, I guess we’re good. Talk to you later.” Chance hung up.
He needed to make another phone call before he left. He kicked his legs up on the corner of his desk, and dialed.
“Craig.”
“Chance.”
“Hey, I am going to have to go down to get some more things taken care of, but this time I’m going to have to be gone for about a week. I’m going to need you to watch over everything for me.”
“Sure, no problem. How is everything going?”
“It’s been an explosive day.” He laughed, and recounted the day’s earlier events to Craig.
“Have you seen Sinclair? How’s she doing after all of that?”
“I’ve been looking for her. Her car is still in the lot. She’s either in HR or with Daniel. I’ll try to call her again before I leave.”
“So, do you think she’s got any idea what you are planning, yet?”
“No. Her parents are helping me with everything.”
“Just make sure I get an invitation.”
“Of course, let me go and look for her again.”
“Okay.”
“Bye.”
Hours had passed since Sinclair had walked into Daniel’s office. A lawyer friend of his had his secretary write up a document based on the papers Jill and Zulema gave her. The two versions were actually almost identical, except for a small clause that nullified the whole agreement with the continued employment of any individuals responsible for the hostile work environment she was forced to endure for two years.