by Susan Renee
“Oh...so she’s talked to you today?”
“Of course. She’s my mom and sort of my boss. Why wouldn’t she talk to me?”
“I thought you guys had a fight this morning?”
“A what?”
“A fight.”
Mandy stands up and peeks over the wall at me sitting at my desk.
“A what?”
“A fight. An argument, a tiff?”
“Not at all. Why would you ask that?”
“Oh...um...Nothing. No reason. Sorry. I must’ve misunderstood.”
What the hell?
She said they had a fight.
Didn’t she say that?
“Are you okay, Liv?” Mandy asks chuckling at the expression of confusion wiped all over my face.
“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head. “Sorry. I’m just being stupid.”
“No problem,” she chuckles. “I’m sure you’re just jet lagged.”
“Yeah...and sex-lagged.” I mutter.
I type the login passwords into my computer and then look up to see Mandy still looking over her cubicle at me. Her face is frozen in shock and awe. She gasps loudly.
“WHAT? And you didn’t TELL ME?”
“SHH,” I say putting my finger to my lips to silence her and then smirk.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you heard me say that.”
“Yeah, well I did! So when were you going to tell me about all this, you little private bitch? You can’t run away to California for five days with Finn and not tell me every detail! Especially after spilling THOSE beans!”
“Well,” I start. “First of all, I didn’t run off to California with Finn. I went there for work but he followed me. Secondly, I’ll tell ya tomorrow at lunch, or you can give me a call tonight, and I’ll tell you all about it. Right now, I have to get my work done, or I’ll be sleeping here tonight.”
“Deal! I can’t wait!” She smiles. It’s all I can do to not roll my eyes at her excitement over my love life. Honestly, though, I’m just as giddy as she is, but not everybody here needs to see that.
23
The rest of my afternoon is taken up with phone calls to clients, email correspondence and editing of my photos from Seal Lake Winery. I sketch out a few campaign ideas to run by my marketing team in the morning and make a note to touch base with the Boston Cruise Lines to confirm and finish up their ad plan. I haven’t heard from Finn all day, and although his absence from my day makes me miss him, I’m grateful for a work day without distractions so that I can get caught up on my workload without distraction. I hate taking my work home with me. I like knowing that if I give my all at work, I can unwind and be me in the evenings. I’m very much looking forward to chilling out with Abby tonight, doing laundry, and maybe going for an evening run. My cell phone dings quietly, alerting me to a text message. I swipe the screen and smile at the text from Finn.
Finn: “Moves Like Jagger” - Want me to show ya?
Not going to lie, this text makes me laugh out loud. It is completely unexpected but comes at just the right time as I’m getting ready to be done for the day.
Me: Like Jagger, huh? I have a thing for Jagger, ya know….
Finn: You’ll forget his name after you see me. I promise.
Traveling to one last meeting. See you soon, Beautiful.
This is the perfect ending to a perfect work day. I grab my purse out of my desk and reach to close my laptop when my email dings with a message from the representative of the Boston Cruise Lines that I have been working with on my ad campaign. I would’ve let it go until morning but the email subject caught me off guard.
To: Olivia McGuire
Date: July 14, 2015 4:56PM
Subject: Campaign ad approval and confirmation
From: Promotions Dept. Boston Cruise Lines
Ms. McGuire,
Thank you very much for your timely response to our new advertising requests. Though your finished product is not what we had previously discussed, we trust your ideas and are impressed with your ability to think outside the box. Assuming there are no further additions or corrections, we approve your campaign design and look forward to receiving the final print. Please let me know if there is any other info that you need at this time.
Sally Jones
Boston Cruise Lines
Promotions and Advertising Department Head
attch: bostoncruisead.pdf
What the hell?
Did I miss something?
“I didn’t send them a finished campaign design,” I whisper to myself. “Why the heck would they send me an email approving a design that I haven’t shown them yet?”
I sit back in my chair flabbergasted. I can’t even comprehend what I’ve just read. I sit for a moment staring at my computer screen, my eyebrows in a permanent scowl. I read and reread the email from Sally no less than seven times, each time feeling more dumbfounded than the time before. Finally, I think to scroll down and open the attachments she sent with her email. The file attached to the email is what looks like a finished brochure including pictures that do not belong to me. The layout is not at all what I had planned, not to say that it’s bad because it isn’t. It just isn’t my work. I don’t get it. How am I going to deal with this predicament? Did she send an email to the wrong person? That couldn’t be unless they were for some odd reason working with two separate advertising companies. That can only mean that someone here in my office sent them a design having not spoken to me first. Who the hell would do that and why?
I look around the office. Everyone has left for the day except for Austin who is finishing up an edit. “Hey, Riv, do you know anything about my ad campaign for the Cruise Lines? Did someone offer to step in and take care of it without asking me first?”
Austin stops his work and looks up at me, confusion written all over his face. He chuckles at me before giving me an “are-you-mental” look. “Who the hell would do that? Your clients are your clients, Olivia. I mean, I’m not saying we don’t all help each other now and then, but uh...I’m pretty sure you would know about it, Doll.” Austin shakes his head again in disbelief at what I just asked him. I admit I must sound like I’m from a different planet. I just don’t get it.
“Yeah...I know it’s just...yeah...never mind. I’ll figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
“Nothing,” I say immediately. “I think someone just miscommunicated, that’s all. I’ll figure it out. Thanks.”
“Yup.”
My stomach immediately knots as I sit at my desk racking my brain over how to handle this situation. Do I call Finn? Could he have done this, thinking he was helping me out given the stress between us? Where did those pictures come from?
Rather than replying to Sally’s email, I pick up my phone and dial her number. I have to get to the bottom of this before I leave for the day, or I know I won’t sleep tonight.
“Boston Cruise Lines Promotional office, this is Sally speaking; how may I help you?”
“Sally, I’m glad I caught you. This is Olivia McGuire from the Kellan Agency. I just received your email in regards to the new advertising campaign.”
“Oh yes. Mr. Porter likes it very much. We’re good to go here on our end. Did you need more information?”
I have no idea how I’m going to ask for what I need. “Umm, yes actually, and I know this might sound a bit strange, but who sent you the finished design because we weren’t scheduled to meet until next week?”
“Right. I noticed that it wasn’t your name on the email. Let me look it up quickly for you.” I sit quietly while listening to her fingers hit the keys on her keyboard. “Yes here it is. I received the email from a Karen Elena. I’m assuming you know who that is.”
What?
“Yes I do. I’m sorry for the confusion, I was just taken aback by your email because, well, to be honest, that design isn’t my work at all. You’re right. It’s not at all what we had discussed, but I’ve been away from work for the past few days and haven’
t had the chance to touch base with Karen yet, so I apologize for disrupting your day.”
I mean how do I say in a nice professional way, “That bitch stole my homework”?!
“It’s not a problem at all. I do remember now that she mentioned that you weren’t well. I hope you’re feeling better, dear.”
“I’m sorry?”
Did I hear her correctly?
Karen told them I was sick?
How sick?
“Oh...um...yeah. Much better thank you, and thank you again for your time. I’ll be in touch if we need any further information.”
“You’re welcome, Olivia. Have a good evening.”
“And you as well, Sally. Goodbye.”
I can feel the heat rising in my face. My heart is racing, and somehow without consciously knowing that I even started, my knee is bouncing up and down ferociously, in time with the pen that I’m tapping on my desk.
What.The.Fuck?
Karen?
Why?
I jump out of my seat, causing the chair to roll backwards and crash into the wall behind my desk and walk down the hall towards Karen’s office, hoping she is still here. As luck would have it, I peek into her office to see her shutting down her laptop and opening her desk drawer for her purse.
“Karen, excuse me, but do you have a quick second?” I realize I probably sound like a bitch about to explode, so I do everything in my power to calm myself down.
It’s not working.
“I’m just about on my way out, but sure. What can I do for you?”
“I just got off the phone with Sally Jones, from Boston Cruise Lines, after receiving an email from her that left me a bit confused. I was hoping you could shed some light.”
The red splotches creeping over Karen’s cheeks confirm for me that she has a part in this. For just a moment she looks like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Oh. Right,” she says, squaring her shoulders and standing up a little straighter. “Did they not like the design?”
I frown at her from the doorway of her office. “Um, no they approved it,” I say with disbelief and, dare I say, disdain in my voice. “I’m just confused as to why you sent them a design at all? I mean, I don’t mean any disrespect, but they were my clients that I had been working with for weeks. What was sent to them is not at all what had been discussed in our previous meetings.”
“Of course it’s not. That’s because I did it. Henry Porter and I go way back, so I knew he wouldn’t mind if I sent him what I was thinking. Don’t worry though, I know you’ve been stressed with things…with Finn, so I was just doing you a favor.” Karen continues to carefully place her file folders in her briefcase bag, but I know it’s a way to distract her from my confrontation.
What is she hiding?
“I didn’t ask you to do me a favor.” My eyes narrow as I watch Karen across the room. “And since you didn’t tell me earlier about this, you sort of made me look bad when I had to call Sally and ask her what was going on. I just saw you in the hall a few hours ago. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me something like that.”
Shrugging her shoulders carelessly, Karen turns around folding her arms in front of her and responds, “Nobody told you to call Sally, Olivia. You did that on your own, so yes, I can understand why you might feel that you look a bit...ridiculous and scatterbrained. Perhaps if you had spoken to me before making that call you wouldn’t feel so…stupid? The fact of the matter is I know a lot of people around here, in this town, in this business. I know Mr. Porter, and I know what he likes, so I took care of this one for you since you were otherwise detained. End of story. Finn will tell you. He knows Mr. Porter and I are old friends.”
“Well that would insinuate that I run to Finn with all of my concerns and questions in this office, but, in actuality, I do not. Our relationship is separate from what we do here, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“Is it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as she walks towards me, ready to leave her office for the day. Her voice is instantly cold, and her comments snide. “Is that why he followed you to California? Is that why he extended your stay an extra few days...because your relationship is...separate?”
No.
She.
Didn’t.
Karen rolls her eyes and walks out of the office and down the hall to the elevator, leaving me speechless standing in her office doorway. My anxiety level is ready to shoot through the roof. The knot in my stomach just pulled even tighter. I pick my jaw up off the floor and turn back towards my office to get my things before leaving.
I have never seen Karen like this before. She’s always been nothing but nice to me, so what the heck happened? I can’t think of anything I may have done to upset her. Maybe this whole thing isn’t even about me at all. Maybe she just had a shit day, and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, except that that’s not possible given that she knew what she was doing when she did it. And she did it while I was out of town. My “boss”, who doesn’t even have experience doing what I do in this profession, just took over my project and purposely made me look like an idiot in front of a client. I’ve completed several small accounts during my short time here but the cruise line and Seal Lake Winery were to be my first big accounts, and now it looks like I don’t know what I’m doing.
“Shit.”
That’s all I can say.
“You okay?” Oops. I forgot I wasn’t alone. Austin is just walking down the hallway towards the elevators.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll see ya tomorrow, Riv.”
“Okay, see ya.” I grab my purse and head out of the office. In the elevator, I think through a few scenarios of how to deal with this problem.
Do I tell Finn?
No. I absolutely do not run to Finn after I just told Karen I keep my relationship separate.
But he’s the CEO and my boss’s boss.
And they’re friends, practically family, with a long history. Who knows what she’ll say to him, and that’s sort of like tattling.
Do I scrap the entire project and start over with Sally?
No. That only makes me look like a bitch. Not just a bitch but an irresponsible, unorganized bitch.
“Damnit!!” I shout shaking my head. I need a drink. No, I need a long hard run...and then a shower, and then a drink. I grab a cab as soon as I step out of the building and take off for home, not wanting to deal with overcrowded sidewalks. It’s already a little later than normal for me getting home since I had to deal with Karen before leaving. As soon as I get home, I strip out of my clothes and throw on my running pants, my pink sports bra, and a tank top. I pull my hair up into a ponytail and grab my shoes. I write out a quick note to Abby in case she gets home before I get back. I need to run. I need to run fast and far and hard. I pick up my earbuds and plug them into my phone, shove my apartment key into my shoe, and stretch quickly before taking off. I start up my running playlist and program it to shuffle songs. My phone is smarter than I give it credit for sometimes. It obviously senses my mood. Adam Lambert’s angry voice fills my ears as I start to jog. It’s the perfect song to fuel my now-pissy attitude and push me forward, so I turn up the volume and begin to run. In this heat, I’ll be sweating in no time.
I run for miles. I run and I run until I can barely feel my feet beneath me, and then I run some more. Every step I take is freeing and I fear that if I stop running the hell that was the last thirty minutes of my work day will all come crashing back around me; and I just don’t want to deal with it. I notice that my playlist is recycling songs, which means I’ve been running for almost an hour. My body feels like I am melting. The soles of my feet sting every time they hit the pavement. I’m hot and sweating like a glass of iced tea on a hot summer day. Come to think of it, a drink of anything sounds really good right about now. I can feel the drips of sweat running down my neck and dripping off the sides of my face. My tank top clings to my sticky wet skin. I’m not one of those girls who looks stunning, even when I’m runn
ing. You know, like those girls who never seem to sweat and their running attire always matches their shoes. Nope, I’m a hot sweaty, most likely very smelly mess, but I know that means I’m pushing my limits and feeling the burn. No pain, no gain right? I want to kick myself right about now, though, for not downing a glass of ice water before leaving because now, getting a drink is all I can think about. I have about a mile left to get home and decide to push myself forward and continue running until I make it back home. My frustration with Karen fuels my adrenaline enough that I start sprinting back to my apartment. I make it about half a mile down the road before I feel the tightness in my chest and the numbness in my legs.
Damnit, Olivia, why didn’t you get a drink before you left?
It’s hot as Hell out here.
I’m a hot sweaty mess.
But I’m cold.
Why am I cold...in the summertime?
I need to slow down.
I can’t breathe.
Shit. I can’t breathe.
I don’t remember my body hitting the pavement, but somewhere in my subconscious mind, I can feel someone pouring water over my head and on my knees. My knees hurt. My right knee is burning, stinging my skin over and over again. I’m back in my past, seven years ago, laying on the pavement with a ripped up bloody body. My eyes shoot open, and my body snaps up into a sitting position. I look down, and sure enough, my pants are a shredded mess, and there is blood trickling down my right leg.
I scream, “MAX!!!!”
“Whoa, be careful sitting up. Don’t worry; it’s not a deep cut. Once I wash it off, a small bandage should be fine. What the hell were you doing to yourself, Olivia? You could’ve gotten seriously hurt...and who is Max? Here, drink this.”
A pair of hands holds out a water bottle to me, and before I tip the bottle to my lips, I lean my head back squinting into the now-setting sun to see Austin Rivers staring back at me.
“Riv? What...what are you?” I feel dizzy and lightheaded and nauseous.