Voyage (The Vivienne Series Book 4)

by Karen Gordon

  August 22nd – Holy hell this is hard. Mikel emailed me with one more lead but he said it was a long shot. He didn’t think the company really had the need or the funds but he asked me to follow up on it. I did and he was right. I give them a courtesy call but get a lukewarm reception. I put a note on my sales chart to follow up in a year. Hey, you never know. Bob is still telling me to give Brad Prinster more time. He said it can take a while to pull all those people together. I’m calling bull shit but I still take his advice because Mikel pretty much said the same thing.

  August 29th – I’m getting desperate. I’ve rearranged my apartment, twice. I offered to help Mrs. Ogden rearrange hers. Dom loves the new slip cover I sewed for her couch and I’m starting to crochet a blanket for her baby. I notice that tomorrow is National Toasted Marshmallow day on my wacky-events calendar so I decide to send a shipment of chocolate covered toasted marshmallows from a local Savannah chocolatier to Brad’s secretary and ask her to share them in the office. I only spoke to her for a few minutes when I first called Brad but I know how the food/secretary/power triad works.

  September 2nd – Success!!! Sweet success!! I have meeting dates!! I make a highlighted, underlined note in my sales software to start earlier with the secretaries and gifts. Having been there I know what a power position it is. I email Mikel and Annalize because for different reasons both have been e-holding my hand through this. I email Dom and Lucca and Bob. I’m feeling my mojo so I shoot a short note to Pete asking him where he is and to send me a pic.

  My meetings in Miami won’t be for another month and a half—it’s probably a little early to start planning my packing list now. I’m about to book my flight but when I look at the price I reconsider. Hell, I can drive to Miami. With the money I save I book myself into a nicer room at a Marriott on South Beach. It’s chi-chi enough that I won’t look broke but it’s not crazy expensive. I get a hefty boost to my new personal hotel point account. Those will be like gold to me if I need some free rooms later (like a year or two from now if I still haven’t sold anything).

  With my meeting locked in I have nothing to do but obsess over it, alternating between dreams and nightmares, and burn off my excess energy somehow. I try to take up running but my boobs and knees protest and the late-summer Georgia heat makes it impossible to breathe. I call people. Carla sounds depressed and talks a lot about how much she misses my dad. The anniversary of his death just passed. I promise myself I will call her more often and I send her some flowers.

  I start reading novels again, steamy ones. It’s fun and lord knows I have plenty of time to hang out in bed with sexy paper men and my vibrator but it’s also a reminder that I could be spending this time with a real flesh-and-blood man. Dom suggests a stalking mission to the Rail to see what Sam is up to. How can I resist?

  A girlfriend…that’s what he’s up to. He’s sweet, as always, but it’s clear he moved on from any interest he had in me months ago. Normally Dom and I would drown our sorrows there but she’s not drinking and I’m not sad enough to drink alone. We compromise and go for gelatos instead.

  During the day I keep as busy as I can, hoping I will sleep at night, but I don’t. Nights are for stressing, playing out every worst-case scenario. I don’t want to tell anyone but I’m pretty sure this job isn’t going to work out. I’m not patient and the odds of me making a sale are so slim. I’m kidding myself. What the hell was I thinking? Maybe working with Jack wasn’t as bad as I remember. (I quickly dismiss that thought.) But, what next? And when should I tell Mikel that I can’t do this?

  Annalize calls me. She’s shooting a few scenes for a movie in New York and Mikel can’t come with her. She wants me to come and hang out with her. I still have three weeks before my meeting and she’s paying for my plane ticket so I take her up on her offer. Maybe she can help me get a grip on my new life.

  ✈　✈　✈

  Annalize is the element I’ve been missing. She is the embodiment of the sweet life and a how-to manual on how to savor it. She works a few hours every day, going to filming locations around the city. She tells the director that I am her New York Personal Assistant so I will need to be on set with her. Luckily all the scenes are talking and action. I not sure how it would feel to be in a room with a bunch of crew people watching her have sex (or pretend to).

  Away from work she is still the same bossy bitch who sees everything with child-like glee. She wants to experience everything New York and assumes I will know where all this is because I live in the United States. When I explain that this is my first time here too she is unfazed. “We will learn together.”

  Even with marginal English she is better at figuring out the subway map than I am. I want to call for Uber cars but she insists we ride the subway because it’s been in so many of her favorite movies. “Is this the place for Saturday Night Fever?” She asks as we are waiting on some dingy platform. I’ve never seen the movie so I can’t help her.

  As always, she gets recognized and loves it. She poses and smiles and hams it up with any adoring fans. A group of young guys in a park don’t seem to recognize her but are no less hypnotized by her beauty. They teach her to ride a hoverboard and she hangs out with them for hours, hanging on one guy then another for support. She whips past me and begs me to try. It looks fun but the part of me that hates to look stupid holds back. Of course she will not accept this.

  “I will hold you up.” She pulls me from my perch on a short wall and places my feet where hers were then stands behind me, her arms round my waist. She’s patient with me, not only my clumsiness but my frustration and lack of ability to see the fun in this. Annalize the actress plays up each of my near-falls and has the onlookers and me laughing. The guys hoot and cat-call and we both laugh at how silly we must look.

  She wants dinner in Little Italy which seems odd to me until we get there and I realize that she is a huge star in this section of town. Our meal is comped, pictures are taken, a cocktail is created and named after her.

  We have separate rooms at the hotel but she lures me into hers with the promise of a late-night makeover, champagne and New York cheesecake.

  I sit on the bathroom counter, stripped of my makeup and wait for her to formulate her plan of action. She holds one eye shadow color up to me then another. Nothing looks right to her then she realizes why.

  “It is there again.” She presses on the worry line between my brows. “We got rid of this in Italy.”

  I shrug an apology for not keeping up with my dolce-vita training. She tisk-tisks me and shakes her head.

  “You need to come to the lake again with me and Mikel.”

  It’s the first time we’ve really talked about him and I feel the need to confess. “I, um, I kissed your husband.”

  This makes her smile. The idea plainly doesn’t bother her. “I know. He told me. He said you are a good kisser.”

  I laugh and blush. This is a strange conversation. “You aren’t jealous?”

  “I was.” I cringe but she stops me. “You did not want to kiss me.”

  More blushing and laughing to hide my discomfort. I try to reassure her it isn’t personal. “I’ve never kissed a woman.”

  This surprises her. “Never?” She makes it sound a normal and enticing as trying a new ice cream flavor. “You should try it sometime. We are soft and sweet.”

  She’s toying with me but gives me an out with the word sometime. She drops it and goes to work blending base make up. I watch her. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But it’s not just her features, it’s her. It’s her combination of bossy and silly, her passion for Mikel and life in general. If I’m ever going to kiss a woman she should be the one.

  “I…kind of…I kind of want to kiss you.”

  She turns her nose up at this. “Only kind of,” and waves me off with her blush brush.

  “I mean, I do, but…I don’t want to sleep with you. I mean, I don’t think I do. I mean, I just want to kiss you.”

  She narrows her eyes at
me but is smiling. “Who said I want to sleep with you? You think a lot of yourself.”

  She knows how to make me laugh and take the tension out of the moment. I think she’s ignoring my request when she takes me face in one hand and studies it for make-up application. But she keeps coming in closer and closer, pretending to study my skin. She smiles just before she touches her lips to mine and kisses me.

  She is soft. Wow. And just so different than kissing a man. I’m not as turned on but it’s more pleasant--softer and sweeter, a very pleasurable sensation. Kissing her is definitely nice, definitely enjoyable, but there is also definitely something missing. The urge for more, to go farther, just isn’t there. When I kiss a man I usually want to keep going, to peel off clothes, to feel his naked skin next to mine. Maybe it’s because this is my first girl kiss and I’m so nervous, but I don’t want those things right now, despite the amazing allure of the woman kissing me.

  She must feel my lack of true interest because she pulls away but gives me a small, sweet peck on the lips before she does.

  Then she doesn’t miss a beat and goes back to analyzing my complexion and applying makeup. But she stops to wink at me when she sees me studying her, looking for a reaction.

  “Mikel was right. You are a good kisser.”

  Chapter Nine

  I pack everything I could possibly ever need for my sales meetings into my little car and leave for Miami a day early because you never know if you are going to have a flat tire or engine trouble. Highly unlikely considering the strict maintenance schedule I keep for my car, but I factor in extra time anyway.

  As I’m settling in my hotel room love starts pouring in. Dom is first. She calls to give me a pep talk, “If anyone can do this you can. Knock ‘em dead with your super powers.”

  Carla sends me an email to wish me luck but notes that she doubts I will need it. Annalize and Mikel have a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of good Italian wine delivered to my room, to celebrate the success they know I will have. I’m emotionally on edge and all the love pouring in turns me into a blubbering mess but it feels good.

  The icing on the cake is a return email from Pete. He’s finishing up a summer in Iceland and he includes a shot of himself toasting me with some liquor I can’t pronounce. He ends his note with “Breathe, smile.” Good advice, I do both.

  ✈　✈　✈

  I’m sure my love-glow is part of the reason for my success with Brad and the airport manager the next day. It also helps that I have memorized almost every stat and technical fact they need and I show up with a basket of Italian wine, cheese, and cookies. It’s a huge splurge on my budget but worth it when I present it to Jennifer, the flight department secretary and scheduler. I tell her to share it with a conspiratorial wink. I want her to know I realize her power position in all of this.

  I breeze through the meetings. Brad and I talk a lot about the physical capabilities of the plane and how it will be used in combination with the other planes in their fleet. It doesn’t hurt my presentation but I realize that even with all my prep work I can’t anticipate all the human factors that will go into making a decision on this plane. If the cost of the plane can’t be justified by their need, this sale won’t happen. My job will be to give them all the information they need to make that decision.

  I was able to anticipate most of the airport manager’s concerns and address them. Noise was top on his list but I studied this airport and mapped out take-offs and landing that would be subsonic over US airspace, reducing the noise from our jet to match that of other business jets. The plane would not cross into supersonic speeds until it was out of the restricted airspace. Even with reduced speeds at the start and end of a trip it would be possible to be in Europe in three hours.

  My day one success builds me up for day two. Brad and I are having lunch with the CEO and CFO. He preps me (unnecessarily) beforehand on who they are but he also goes over some of the questions they might ask. Again I’m reminded there are some things I can’t learn from a book or online, things I will hopefully get better at handling as I go. Small talk is not my strong suit but I’m better when I’m armed with facts and figures. A lot of their questions are a repeat from the day before but I also get to go over a lot of the more exciting aspects of the jet. I get to break out all the beauty shots of the exterior and interior and discuss the ways it can be customized (for a fee, of course). I’m only thrown off momentarily when they ask me how it feels to ride in it. I struggle for an honest answer. Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ve only worked for Ora for a few months and most of that time has been spent cleaning my closets and crocheting a baby blanket. I admit that their demo flight will be my first because the only completed jet was not in Italy the last time (aka, first time) I went. It’s true enough and I’m relieved that they are so focused on getting a ride that they don’t seem to catch on to the fact that I’m so new to the company.

  It goes extremely well, almost too well. The doomsayer in my head questions how it could be this easy. Surely I missed something.

  But I didn’t. I aced this.

  ✈　✈　✈

  I’m in my element as I drive home, feeling all my Vivienne super powers. I crank up the volume on Erin Bowman’s “Driver’s Seat” and sing along at the top of my lungs, dancing in my driver’s seat. Oh, hell yeah. I am in the driver’s seat of my career for the first time. It’s still scary as hell but it’s better than working with Jack any day.

  I mentally map out what will happen next, demo flight, possibly more meetings, then…contract and deposit. If all goes well I might have my first paycheck in a few months. I’ll breathe a lot easier then.

  When I get home I skype Mikel, who says that I can schedule the demo flight in three weeks. It will be the first time the actual jet will be in the U.S. and he also wants to schedule several press events. He’s thinking out loud, tossing out dates and media he wants to contact when I realize that he wants me to do all the press events, talk to the media.

  My first reaction is “oh, hell no”. I’ve always been the person to prep the company rep for press. I do not want to be in front of any cameras. I have visions of me choking out garbled, jumbled sentences, looking like an idiot. I know he won’t let me skip out on this because of fear so I push from another angle.

  “Mikel, press isn’t part of my contract.”

  This stops his stream of conscious planning cold. “Excuse me.”

  “Press isn’t part of my job.”

  I’ve shocked him. “Vivienne, this is part of selling the planes.”

  I hedge because I want to be a team player but my fear of messing up an interview is bigger. “I see that, but I really think you should be the person who handles the press. I’m strictly sales.”

  Now he’s getting irritated, something I’ve rarely seen in him. “I have things to handle here in Italy. The U.S. is your territory.”

  “For sales.” It’s hard to stick to my guns. I see the man who sweetly pushed me past some of my fears into asking him for a kiss and I want to please him. I want to help him but I just can’t. Handling my new sales responsibilities is a huge step for me and I’m not ready to conquer another yet.

  “Fine, we will renegotiate your contract to include media and work out a pay rate for it.”

  He thinks this is about money, which now that he mentions it, it should be…but it’s not. “Mikel, I…” I stall because I don’t have a counter argument for his logical solution.

  “What, Vivienne?” Damn he’s short when he’s angry. Italian passion works both ways.

  “Let me see the amended contract and we’ll talk.” That appeases him and we turn the conversation back to my impressions of the hotel group but his mood has changed. He’s disappointed in me and isn’t hiding it well.

  ✈　✈　✈

  Dom is the only person I can share my fears with. We’re grocery shopping together, part of our new routine now that we are both not working during the day.

  “You told him no, he’s just
going to have to accept it.” Only Dom can understand how much I don’t want to do any press.

  “Yeah, but that’s just it, I didn’t exactly tell him no. I told him we would talk about it when I get the new contract.”

  “Nip it.” She keeps moving down the coffe, tea and cocoa aisle. She stops when I do at the coffee section.

  “Have you tried this one?” I hold up a new brand.

  She points to her baby bump. “He says no coffee for me. I drink it down he brings it back up.” He is officially a boy as of her last ultrasound. He also still doesn’t have a name, but he clearly, like his mother, has lots of opinions.

  “Just don’t drag this out. If you aren’t going to do it, tell him no. Did you get the contract yet?”

  “Yeah.” And I hate it because it negates the excuse I gave him.

  “And…”

  “It says I’ll get a hundred dollars an hour for any media work I do.”

  She’s tossing cans of spaghetti o’s in her cart for Luis’s lunch. They live on a tight budget and here I am turning money down.

  “But it’s not about the money, you know that. I wouldn’t matter if it was two hundred dollars an hour.”

  “Then what’s stopping you from saying no?” She studies my face for her answer. “It’s him isn’t it?” She knows about my crush and the kiss.

  I hesitate because I’m not sure. Am I not saying no because I’m a chronic people pleaser or because I want to please him specifically? Does it matter? “Ok, yeah, it’s him. I just…it’s not like I’m hoping we end up together or anything like that. I just…”

  She stops walking and stares at me, goading me to admit the truth. “I just really like the way he thinks I’m super smart and can do anything.”

  “You show him your super hero cape and tiara?”

  “Not yet.”

  We walk up and down a few more aisles in silence. When we stop to munch on free cheese samples Dom studies my stressed-out expression. “Whether it’s your boss or a boyfriend I just want you to find someone you don’t tie yourself up in knots over. You need to be able to be yourself, not just the wonder woman side of you.”