by Amy Brent
“Hey there Dahlia.” James, from the mailroom waved at her as she went inside.
She gave him a smile, and gave one to Elise the receptionist as well, who returned it.
She had built relationships with everyone in the office over her time there, and she knew they were happy for this chance she was being given. Almost everyone anyway. She felt Rachel’s eyes on her as she walked past, judging her every move. She was perfect, by society standards. Her platinum blond hair was loose and flowing and her suit fit her like a glove. She couldn’t be more than a size 4 and her attitude was always bad as she looked down her nose at the people around her. Rumors were flying that she was dating the editor of the magazine, though no one could say that was why she had been given her own column a few months ago.
Glancing at her desk in her cubicle she saw a card. She opened it with a smile when she saw the congratulations from her coworkers, who she would thank personally later when she had more time. She grabbed her notebook and headed for the conference room, pushing open the door after one last breath.
She felt eyes on her as she moved to take a seat, glancing up only when she was settled. The faces around her were a mixed bag. Some were friendly, some unsettled about her being there. There were 8 men in total, all waiting for Mark, the editor to get the meeting started. She heard him clear his throat and she took a deep breath.
“As you all know by now, Miss Jones is getting her first article today, she did some great research for the Kramer group piece, and after some mix up.” He paused. “We now can give credit where credit is due.”
Someone coughed, but most of them nodded in her direction.
“We have a few things out there we need done, and since you are the newest member of this team Dahlia, we were able to save one of them for you.”
He slid the envelope down her way and she didn’t miss a few glances in her direction.
“Since everyone else has been briefed, you are all free to go. Dahlia if you want to stay behind or ask any questions please just ask whenever you need to.”
She glanced up at him. “I’m fine, actually Mr. Andrews. Thank you for the opportunity.” She gave him a smile as she left the conference room.
As she walked down the long row of offices to get to her own she felt people talking about her. It was nothing new, but yet it felt different this time. She got her confirmation when Elise came over to her desk.
“Wow, I heard the news Dahlia, that's a tough break.”
Dahlia frowned. “I’m lost what do you mean?”
Elise scrunched up her brow. “You got the Meyers story. That one has been passed off now two rounds of assignments.”
“Why, it’s just a corporation interview and story. Nothing difficult about it.” She glanced through the file once more.
“Oh wow, you don’t even know do you.” Elise pulled a chair over to the cubicle to sit beside her.
“Ok, now I am getting a little scared. Spill.” Dahlia sat back in her chair.
“Landon Meyers is… well… he is an ass. I mean no one has ever done a story on him and it is basically because he hates dealing with the public. He is a notorious rake, and womanizer and he is filthy rich, but he is overall just not a nice guy.”
Dahlia sat back in her chair. “I see.”
“I’m sorry honey, they gave you a ghoster.”
“Thanks Elise, I knew I could count on you.” She gave her a smile. “I guess I better start calling around. I’m not giving up yet.”
She felt the brunt of the problem on her back like a weight. She watched Elise walk to her desk and couldn’t help but notice the sly smile that Rachel gave her as she walked into her office. Even Rachel knew, and it was even more of a reason for her to figure out a plan.
She was a planner by nature, and there was nothing about that she would change. She did her own research on Meyers, his relationships, or lack of. The speculation that he was actually gay and his family. His mother was his last known relative that was alive and she knew that was where to start.
“Bingo.” She whispered to herself as she grabbed her jacket and set off to put a dent in her project.
She felt the sunshine on her face as she made her way into the heart of the city. Based on the history of events that Mrs. Meyers had attended she knew she could find her here. She glanced around the lot before taking a deep breath and getting out of her car, and into the shelter.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like animals, she did, but ever since she was a child she had been allergic. She sneezed almost immediately as she went inside, glancing around at the people there for the animal shelter fundraiser event. Fortunately, much of the festivities were outside and Dahlia gravitated towards that area. She spotted Mrs. Meyers immediately, her flare for fashion was obvious and Dahlia knew she had an angle. She moved towards her carefully.
“Oh wow, look at that little guy go.” She exclaimed over a tiny teacup puppy in the pen.
“She is adorable isn’t she.” Mrs. Meyers gave her a half glance.
“She is and so are those Randucci shoes, they are stunning.” Dahlia smiled inwardly as the older woman turned towards her.
“Oh well, thank you dear, I see we share a love for fashion.” She gave her a smile.
“It’s true, I try to stay fashion forward on a budget.”
The older woman laughed lightly. “I understand that honey.”
“It’s hard enough to make it in the world these days, especially if you’re a woman who like good shoes.” Dahlia added.
Soon the two women found themselves emerged in conversation about the new designs and what styles showed promise. Dahlia, was surprised to find the woman most charming and enjoyed the company. She watched from the crowd as Miss Meyers presented the organization with her donation and donation of her time. She cut the bright red ribbon on the event and set out to mingle with the crowd.
Her instincts were pretty good, and she knew better than try to pull anything on the older woman, instead she made her way back out to her car to go. She lifted her head when she heard her name.
“Dahlia, dear, won’t you join me for lunch?” She waved at a tall man standing behind her who set off in motion. “I was just sending Reggie to get the car.”
“I am not sure if that’s such a good idea Mrs. Meyers…” she started.
“Well, why not?” She interrupted. “I know there is something you want dear; I am too old not to be able to read people. The thing is, I genuinely like you, so why not tell me what you’re looking for over lunch?” The older woman’s eyes sparkled with the mischief she seemed to be up to and Dahlia laughed.
“Fine then, I’d love lunch.” Dahlia was more than a little relieved, especially since she really enjoyed the older woman’s company as well.
She slid into the waiting car with Mrs. Meyers and they set off for a wonderful lunch at an exclusive eatery in town. One glance at the menu and she took a sip of water not to choke on the prices of the food found there.
The older woman must have noticed since she gave her hand a pat. “My treat dear, just pick something you will like.”
They ordered, Dahlia gracefully ordering a salad with strips of Kobe beef. It was the most expensive salad she had ever ordered, and she knew this was an experience she would never forget.
“I want to ask if that salad is what you really wanted, but I’m afraid that would be too forward of me.” The older woman smiled at her.
Dahlia returned the smile. “I aspire to be a salad eater Mrs. Meyers.”
“Call me Judy, please. Now, shall we get to the business of what you need my dear?” She flicked her hand at the waiter who brought them both a glass of white wine.
“I appreciate you even talking with me. I came into this situation with a clear path in mind but, I simply can’t do it.”
“That, my dear, is why I like you. I can usually spot someone looking for something, but you are a rare breed, who can’t follow through.”
“I work for Culture, it’s a
magazine based here in D.C.”
“Ah yes, so they are still pushing for the story on Landon aren’t they?” She smiled as she sipped her wine.
“Yes, apparently it’s been something they wanted to do for a long time.” Dahlia sighed.
Judy peered at her for a moment. “Something tells me there is a story here.”
“There is.” Dahlia paused as the food was delivered. “I have worked there for two years doing minor work and something I submitted was, apparently, very good, or so they said when they thought a man wrote it.”
“I see, that tends to be the case doesn’t it?”
Dahlia nodded. “SO they were forced, to give me an assignment and they gave me this one.”
Judy laughed lightly. “I admire your tenacity dear. You're refusing to give up.”
“I won’t give up; they gave me this assignment thinking I’d give up.”
“Yet, you almost did today. You knew I was a way in, but almost left.”
Dahlia sighed. “I may want the story, but only if I can get it the right way.”
“Well, I will get you an interview with my son.” She held up her hand to calm Dahlias apparent excitement. “But, you have to understand a couple of things. First of all, he is a private man, stubborn and overall he can be a real ass. I know he is my son, but he is all business and will probably not be overly pleasant to you.”
“I’ve been bullied all my life Mrs. Meyers; I think I can handle your son.”
“We will see.” Judy clinked her glass with Dahlias and the two set off discussing fashion once more.
Landon
Landon Meyers had one too many things on his plate and he was slowly losing patience with all of them. He spun his chair around to look outside at the rain once more. There was something soothing about it, even from up here. His office was at the top of the tower and the view was normally breathtaking. He worked in the heart of the city, and even still he could look out over it, and see the green grasses that went beyond its edges. He tapped his pen on the desk and exhaled slowly.
He wasn’t in the business of giving away money, and she certainly wasn’t about to start now. His mother, being who she was, continually pushed him to give back to the community, but he refused. He didn’t have time for the type of image branding she had in mind. Truth be told, he didn’t like dealing with people very much at all, especially since they seemed to go out of their way to irritate him so much. That being said he loved his mother, and had agreed to letting a local magazine do a story on him. Truth be told he would much rather be racing his bike up on a good track of land. It did something to sooth him somehow.
He didn’t hate people, no that was a strong word. He just liked doing things his way, and he liked to win and make money. Somehow the world didn’t seem to think the way he did. Or, rather, they thought what he did was bad. He scooped up all the broken pieces of companies and made them whole again, and in turn made a profit. He was just a businessman, nothing more.
He glanced at his watch frowning. If she wanted to do this it needed to happen now, he had much more important things to do than wait on some reporter, who, of course, would be late. In all fairness, they still had two minutes, but he doubted their ability to be on time, especially given their field. As usual, watching the clock did nothing but make things slow down so he focused instead on his schedule for the week. He was still focused on it when he heard the buzz.
“Let him in.”
He waited for the interviewer to come in so that he could feel him out. The key to business was always knowing your opponent, though in this case he wasn’t an opponent, simply a writer. Nothing could have prepared him for the person that came through the door. She was bubbly, almost overly so as she finished up a conversation with his receptionist and came through his door.
She had a mass of auburn curls that cascaded down her back. She had it pulled back out of her face, and her blue eyes were smiling as they met his darker ones. She held out her hand to him.
“Mr. Meyers, I am Dahlia Jones. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
He shook it lightly and watched her as she settled into the seat across from his desk. She was poised and yet there was something carefree about her nature as she hummed to herself pulling out her pad and a pen to jot down some notes. She was a beautiful girl, if he was honest with himself. She curvy, abundantly so in some places and she had no issues showcasing those curves in her attire. She was wearing a black dress, it hugged her frame just slightly, giving off her shapely figure, and she had a dark green blazer which she was taking off and draping over her chair as she watched her.
There was something about her face that made her beautiful, and play full at the same time, something completely new to him. He was still watching her when he realized she was talking to him.
“I’m sorry you were saying.” He presented to her.
“I was saying I am choosing to take notes today, no recorder. I get the impression you’re a rather private man.”
“I am.” He let his eyes bore into hers for a moment and he noticed that her happy go lucky demeanor dimmed slightly.
“I really do appreciate the time you're offering to me over the next couple weeks. I’m confident we can put together something that will suit us both.”
“Two weeks? I never agreed to that Miss Jones, and I’m not agreeing to it now. If you want to ask me a few things this is your chance to do it.” He felt himself getting back to normal, where he liked to be.
She frowned and he watched a range of emotions cross her face. “On the contrary Mr. Meyers, you signed the agreement to give me the time.” She slipped the paper across his desk. “I’d appreciate it if you kept your word.” Her voice was calm, and barely above a whisper.
He grabbed the form he had, in fact signed about this whole ordeal and cursed slightly under his breath. He balled it up and threw it in the wastebasket by his desk. “I’m afraid there must have been some communication issue.”
“That’s not a problem Mr. Meyers, however, given the information I already know about you that was copied, just in case you wanted to have a tantrum or something. Now, I’d be happy to strange my schedule to suit yours, but you would have to coordinate with me on that.” She gave him a sweet smile and he felt the heat rise in him.
“Listen honey, I don’t know who you are or what trash slinging paper or magazine you work for. The fact of the matter is I am in charge and I simply don’t have the time, or energy to waste on you and your little project. I’d be happy to answer a few questions, but it would be in your best interest to stay on my good side.” He leaned towards her even more.
“Is that how you do it?” She asked him, seemingly unaffected by him.
“Do what?” He frowned.
“Get people to sell you their business for a fraction of the cost. Does intimidation work for you?” She leaned forward towards him now, almost challengingly. “See, the way I see it, I have a legal and binding document saying we meet for two hours a day for the next two weeks. You can throw a fit or yell at me, whatever you want to do, but you owe me that time. I’d hate to have to drag you to court, the press would eat this up and you’d come out losing money, and losing more of that precious time you’re so worried about losing.”
He watched her face, and the way she inflected each syllable carefully. Yes, she was something alright. For the first time in a long time he felt excitement rush through him. It had been a long time indeed, since someone, anyone, had challenged him and he found himself amused. He leaned back in his chair, smiling.
“You win Miss Jones. I concede.” He watched her chin lift with the small victory and part of him loved the game they were playing.
He let his eyes travel the rest of her resting momentarily on her ample breasts that seemed to be straining against the material of the dress. She was fascinating to look at, full of colors and life something he rarely ever had any more.
His position in the community pushed him into the arms of every available
debutante on the east coast all petite and slender, with a sense of acceptance to whatever he wanted. In bed some of them were a little more than dormant, but nothing made him more excited than a good challenge, and Miss Jones was just that. He had never been with anyone like her, and he found the idea intoxicating. She carried herself with a sense of confidence that he appreciated.
“Tell me about the company, how it started etc.” She waited, clearing her throat.
“That’s a matter of public knowledge Miss Jones, isn’t there anything more exciting you’d like to know?” He was baiting her, and by the look on her face she knew it.
“Fine, I can skip down to the colorful stuff, as you call it.” She flipped through her notes, glancing up at him for a second. “Why aren’t you married? I know your mother would certainly like that.”
He laughed, taking them both by surprise. “You and my mother have been spending time together, I see.” He paused. “I don’t have an answer for you Miss Jones, only that it seems unimportant.”
She jotted down some notes. “You were linked to Rebecca Livingston, but lately she has been dating someone else. What happened there?”
“She wanted more, I was bored.”
He watched her face flush slightly before she looked back up at him. “How can you be bored, you have a massive company with plenty of money, you’re obviously a good enough looking guy and you can pretty much do anything you want. Plus, I’ve seen her, she is beautiful.”
“You certainly do say whatever is on your mind don’t you Miss Jones?”
“Call me Dahlia, please and yes. Why waste time when you can get right to the point?”