Uh-oh!
It's my job to get in front of the office gossip. If the entire office is going to hear about my breakup, it will be on my terms. Later, the story of our breakup will morph into some larger than life juicy bit of gossip. Today, it will be as close to the truth as I can muster.
"No. Colt and I have decided to take a break from one another. This is a friend's," I say, offering Alex the biggest smile—one I in no way feel while sharing this news—and walking away. From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Alex's mouth just as it drops open.
Fifteen minutes after I sit down at my desk, Sabrina rushes into my office. "Bay, everyone in the office knows you and Colt broke up. Who the hell did you tell?"
I grin impishly. "Alex. I'm sure he told Falan and Gabe. Hell! Telling those three anything is comparable to shouting the message via a megaphone in the middle of the office."
Sabrina laughs. "Actually, you're right."
Sabrina stands in my office, patiently waiting for the details, ones I'm not willing to share, before saying, "Anywho... you look good for a woman who just broke up with the man she planned to marry."
With Sabrina, a friend who really cares for me, I don't try to hide the sadness I feel over my separation from Colt.
Picking up a pen and carelessly scribbling on my notepad, I mutter, "I refuse to let anyone here besides you know how bad this hurts... It hurts real bad... But it's my business. Not anybody else's."
Sabrina nods before walking over and hugging my shoulders. "Well, you know I'm here if you need me."
I pat her hand. "I do, and I appreciate it. I met a few people this weekend who are helping me. I'll be fine soon enough."
We jerk apart when we hear a knock on the door. I look up and see a more irritated than normal Alex.
"Girls, are you ready for the ten o'clock meeting I just called? Attendance is mandatory. The COO of Triple R Enterprise called a project manager meeting this afternoon. I'm not sure what he wants or why he's meeting with the whole team, but I do know we'll be prepared. Before then, I need to know exactly where you are with your projects. Do you think the two of you could get caught up on Baylee's little breakup later? She's going to need her paycheck now that she's not a kept woman."
I can tell by the way Alex taunts me that he's no longer worried about offending Colt or Wyatt. From this day forward, he'll ridicule and demean me just like he does Sabrina.
I'm absolutely sure I'm going to have to find another job soon.
Letting us know he didn't believe we were taking him serious, Alex, the asshole, slaps his hands together so loud that it scares me and makes my heart race.
"Now, girls! Now!"
Ducking her head and face turning red, Sabrina rushes out of my office without another word.
Pleased with her reaction, Alex—with a sneer of disgust—stands at my door, watching Sabrina scurry back to her own office. Observing him, I know without a shadow of doubt that he gives me the same smirks behind my back.
When he glances back my way, I quickly turn toward the computer and begin studying my project plan. After he leaves, I roll my eyes. I don't need to look at the status of my project. I'm a project manager. I know everything about where we are, how we got here, and how we're going to finish early and under budget.
I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't intimately know these details.
Since I'm sure Alex will be making rounds like a crazy micro-manager, I decide it's in my best interest to look like I'm doing what he ordered me to do. Instead of reading over the information I already know, I spend my time applying for a home loan. Once that's finished, I apply for a car loan.
Something about having those two crucial steps behind me feels good. At least it did until I get a message back from the bank notifying me that I won't know about the house loan preapproval status for a few days and the closing process can take up to sixty days.
Crap! I can't stay at Joss's house that long. Just remember, you didn't get yourself in this position overnight, and you won't get yourself out overnight.
Making me feel the tiniest bit better, I get an email on the heels of the home loan notice. It's the bank approving my car loan. All I need to do is take this piece of paper to the dealership, pick out a car, and sign on the dotted line.
I, wanting to share, decide to text Ryker with my news.
Me: I've been approved for a car loan. What should I buy? Keep in mind my budget is nowhere near your $2 million one.
Ryker: Keep the Bugatti and save your money.
Me: Seriously. What should I buy? I need something with good gas mileage and a great safety rating.
Ryker: I don't know about all of that, but you may want to look at a Porsche Cayenne. Let me buy one for you. PLEASE.
Me: I'll look that car up and see how much it is. I still have to buy a house, so I can't overspend on the car.
Ryker: Please see my last message AND let me buy one for you.
Me: I can't, but I appreciate your offer.
Ryker: Tomorrow night, I'll take you to look at cars. We have other things to do tonight... things I can't stop thinking about.
Me: I'll let you come with me if you agree that I'm the one buying the car. Also, I like your idea for both tonight and tomorrow night. I can't wait to see you after work.
Ryker: I know what you mean. James has been harassing me all day. He's not at all happy about my little tart... Ms. Tart.
Me: Dang! I keep forgetting to tell you my last name. It's...
Angry, Alex taps on my door and points to his watch. "Are you coming, Ms. Messenger?"
Without finishing my text to Ryker, I tuck my cell phone into my desk drawer and grab my notebook, pen, and project book.
"Coming," I sigh.
I can tell Alex is going to take full advantage of my breakup with Colt to make an example of me. He caught me texting when I was supposed to be following his orders. He'll love every minute of my humiliation.
The tension in the conference room is thick. Every person here is worried and anxious. Either they're all nervous about Alex's foul mood or the COO who is coming is a real dick. Rolling my eyes, I think, Probably a combination of the two since the COO is the person keeping Alex and his cronies employed.
"Ms. Messenger, you seem distracted today. Should I let you go back to your office so you can keep texting your new boyfriend? You must be a real good listener for him to let you drive his two million-dollar car," Alex says, smirking.
Shamed by his comments, his underlying accusation that I'm a whore, I glance around the room. Every eye avoids mine. I quickly flip from ashamed to angry when Falan puts her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh. She's really enjoying the way he's provoking and embarrassing me.
I glare at her, absolutely daring her to look my way. I'm determined to make her uncomfortable, to make sure she knows I think she's a real piece of shit. My disrespect for her is only partly related to the fact that she's laughing at me. It's also for the way she's sleeping with Alex, a married man with two kids, just to get ahead in her career. Everything she does is a disservice to the other women on the team who morally refuse to "stoop down" (or kneel down) to that level. I only tear my glare from Falan after Alex calls me out.
"That's enough, Ms. Messenger. We have an important meeting after lunch. I need to find out where everyone is with their projects before noon. Why don't you start?"
After I've given my robotic and monotone report, I tune out everyone else's updates and wonder what kind of COO would keep Alex around. I roll my eyes when the sarcastic reality hits me.
He must be a great one!
It's noon by the time I finally make it back to my desk. There, I pull the cell phone out of my desk and quickly type.
Me: Sorry. I was running late for a meeting.
Ryker: No problem. I'm on my way to a lunch meeting now. After that, I have a work meeting. Then I'll be having you. Do you want me to pick you up or do you want to drive to the hotel?
Me: As much a
s I hate driving your car and worrying I'm going to damage it, I should probably meet you at the hotel.
Ryker: If I pick you up, we could have some fun on the way.
Me: Hm... I like where you're going with that, but I think I should drive. Leaving your very expensive care in the parking garage doesn't seem safe.
Ryker: Get there as soon as you can.
Me: I will.
I go down to the cafeteria and grab a bowl of lemon, chicken, and rice soup. With lunch in hand, I head back up to my office, planning to do a little online home shopping before my one o'clock meeting.
The sooner I pick a place, the quicker I can initiate and get through the lengthy mortgage process.
It only takes me a few minutes to find a three-story industrial on Commerce that is well within my price range. I call the realtor and ask her to meet me at the condominium at noon tomorrow. I also ask her to find out if the owner will consider renting the empty property to me while we go through the mortgage process. I share with her my very abrupt breakup from my long-time boyfriend, explaining how desperate I am to have a place to live while the mortgage is being finalized.
She doesn't treat me like someone with leprosy for making the request. What she does is happily agree to meet me and to talk with the owners about the rental option.
As soon as I'm off the phone, I feel even better about my situation.
By the end of the day tomorrow, I should have a car and a home. Fingers crossed.
It's five minutes until one, the time we're all supposed to be in the conference room so we can meet our real boss, tell him what we do, and let him judge us.
This should be a real barrel of monkeys.
I'm not sure where my confidence is coming from, but I feel really good about the report I have to give on my project. It's a venture that will bring billions to the Houston area as long as the hospitals work together and take advantage of the federal funding available.
Just as I'm about to walk into the conference room, Sabrina grabs my arm and says, "Jiminy Cricket, Bay! I heard we're all going to lose our jobs. The reports going to this man about us have been so bad that he came here himself to see what we're doing."
Sabrina is as nervous as I've ever seen her. I grab her hand and say, "Take a deep breath, Sabrina. Our projects are on time and under budget. No one could possibly have a problem with us. Falan probably put that rumor out there in order to psych us out so we'd look like bumbling idiots while presenting our project statuses."
Sabrina chuckles nervously. "You're probably right."
Still holding hands, we go into the conference room and sit down side by side. Without discussing it, we've decided that united we stand. If one of us goes, the other goes.
I'm opening my project book and prepping Sabrina for the types of questions she'll be asked when I hear a familiar voice. It's one that makes me look up and toward the door where I see Alex, who is facing me, and the man I assume to be the COO, Chief Operating Officer of Triple R Enterprise, who has his back to me.
"Thanks for understanding the precarious position I'm in with this, Alex. He's a real asshole, but he's James's childhood friend. He wants us to let her go, and I'm not willing to start an all-out war with him, his son, or Eden over this. Eden's your cousin. You know her well enough to know if I don't have this girl fired, she'll eat my balls for lunch."
Alex laughs while spitefully locking eyes with me and making sure I'm privy to his every word. "I can tell you beyond a shadow of doubt Ms. Messenger is not worth getting on Eden's bad side. She's steady, but she can't carry a project like Falan. I'll tell you right now Falan and Gabe are the only people on my team that I'd stake my career—or my balls—on."
The man I assume to be my ultimate boss laughs heartily at Alex's joke while bobbing his head up and down and saying, "In that case, I want you to let Ms. Messenger go. Do it before the end of the day so they'll stop calling me."
With the COO's words, the slow-motion bad dream playing out in front of me becomes painfully crushing.
Holy hell! I'm being fired!
My stomach drops to my toes, and I feel every ounce of color draining from my face. As if we were polar opposites, Alex's eyes light up like he's a man who has just been gifted with a million dollars.
"Will do," he says, still watching me and knowing I've overheard their every word.
As if life were purposefully keeping me down and kicking me to the curb, the pièce de résistance comes when my COO turns around and I'm finally able to see the face of the man who's ordered me fired.
Ryker!
CHAPTER 15
FRIENDLY COMPETITION
Baylee
I stare down at my notebook. Ryker hasn't caught sight of me yet. I wonder if I can slink out of the conference room, pack my office belongings, and get the hell out of here before Alex takes pleasure in firing me in front of everyone.
Tears sting my eyes. Just as they are about to seep out, I bite the inside of my lip so hard that fresh blood oozes from the puncture wounds. Pissing me off is the fact that the pain is not nearly enough to lessen the ache and drive the tears back into their ducts.
I barely glance up when Alex comes into the room looking every ounce the arrogant prick I know him to be.
"Listen, everyone, I'd like for you all to give a round of applause to the man who signs our paychecks... the man who has a naughty and nice detector better than Santa Claus's, only his sensor gauges the caliber of our work, our projects, and our customer service," Alex announces, clapping like Ryker is a fucking rock star and using one of the stupidest analogies I've ever heard him use. And I've heard plenty.
An uncomfortable Ryker comes into the room, waves his hand toward the team of people who are literally giving him a standing ovation, scans the crowd for familiar faces, and stops dead in his tracks when he sees me. I can tell the instant everything registers with him—when his own puzzle pieces fall into place and he grasps the fact that I'm Wyatt's son's ex-girlfriend, the girl he just told Alex to fire.
He looks like a man who has just been played, and he's not happy at all about it. His jaws are clenched and his fists are pumping. The glare of pure hate is directed toward me and is so intense that I have no choice but to jerk my attention toward Sabrina, who is standing and clapping just like every other person in the room. Everyone but me that is. I'm still sitting, stunned and confused, with my hands spread flat on the table. As soon as it occurs to me that I need to follow Sabrina's lead, I jerk to a standing position and pray my weak knees don't buckle.
The only advantage I have right now is the fact that Ryker doesn't know I overheard his conversation with Alex. I'm hurt, I'm angry, and I sure as hell am not going to clap for a man who ordered a dedicated employee fired just because someone told him to do it, because Alex—of all the deadbeat bosses in the world—claims I can't carry a project.
I square my shoulders and decide I'll get through this presentation so I can leave with my dignity intact. Somewhere in the back of my mind it occurs to me that Sabrina probably won't mind if I stay with her until I find a new job and rent my own apartment.
I'll have to remember to ask her before I'm shown to the door.
By the time I glance back toward Ryker, he has recovered his composure and is confidently walking toward the head of the table just like a billionaire owner of a company would.
He absolutely ignores me. Probably because he's ashamed he's spent the weekend consorting with the enemy and doesn't want anyone to suspect we know each other. Especially not as intimately as we know each other... or how intimately we almost knew each other.
Before he sits down, he offers my team and me the speech he came to give, one meant to motivate and inspire. If I didn't hate him so much right now, I'd have to admit every majestic word he speaks is beautiful.
"Thank you all for being here today. Most of you don't know me, but I'm here to tell you I'm a man committed to making the business offices within hospitals as proficient as possible. The rules
and regulations have become so complicated and complex that our partners need our help in order to improve their efficiencies and drive down the administrative costs associated with healthcare so they can get back to the business of taking care of patients. That is where each of you comes in. I need a team of people committed to this organization, its cause, our clients, and their patients.
"If your only motivation is money, prestige, credit, you'll not thrive in this company. In fact, I'm personally encouraging you to look for a job somewhere else. If you're here to make healthcare the best it can be, if you're here to make a real change when it comes to improved patient experiences, mortality rates, appointment availabilities, and healthcare transparency, you're in the right place. My team and the products and services we offer will be the cure for the bitter pill if it's the last thing I do," Ryker pledges passionately.
As soon as he finishes, the room explodes with more applause. No one is clapping louder or beaming brighter than Alex. I've never seen Alex more smitten with anyone than he is with Ryker at the moment. He is so disgusting that I literally roll my eyes and wonder what's attached to Ryker's ass that makes Alex suck it so hard. A bottle.
Since I'm bordering on delirious, the image of a baby Alex sucking a giant bottle from Ryker's ass makes me want to laugh. My common sense tells me now is not the time or the place for that, so I stifle my giggles. Even then, my eyes tear like they always do when I laugh hard. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but right now it's mixing with the earlier tears and spilling from the corners of my eyes.
I turn my head to the side and casually use my index finger to catch them, praying no one notices the waterworks. When I've somewhat recovered and turn back toward the head of the table, I lock eyes with Ryker. He's a hard man to read in this room of people. He looks hurt, but I'm not sure by what.
Is it because he has to fire me? Is it because he thinks I knew he was the COO of my company and purposefully betrayed him?
I can see how this might look a little suspicious. I mean, most employees know exactly whom they work for. In my defense, I knew the owner of Triple R Enterprise was a Mr. Russell, but it never occurred to me he would be a godlike man in his mid-twenties who was caring enough to rescue me from a social-climbing asshole. The Mr. Russell I'd always envisioned to be the owner of this company was balding, covered in liver spots, and nearing retirement.
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