Unsettled

by Ellington, S. C.

  “Yeah I was fired up when that happened…that was pure BS. All he does all day is chat on the phone to the architect who is building his house in Oregon. I’d love to make two hundred thousand a year to do that,” she huffed, disdained. “Whatever…enough about him, I was calling to let you know that Gilt is having a sale on Sam Edelman shoes today. You should check it out.”

  “Oh really?” I asked excitedly. I loved purchasing Sam Edelman shoes; they were ridiculously comfortable and super chic. I could only afford them when the cost had been deeply slashed though.

  “What’s the Web address again?” I whispered into the receiver.

  “www.gilt.com,” she responded. “Hurry…the sale is ending soon!”

  “Okay…hold on a sec…” I said, typing and juggling my receiver. I stealthily logged onto the website, ensuring none of my coworkers were directly behind me. It was great that Trent insisted on a privacy screen for my computer monitor to protect proprietary information—not that my shoe fetish was proprietary information…

  Danielle and I reviewed the only three pairs of shoes that weren’t sold out and came in a boat size ten.

  “Check out the Zara pump, those are so you,” I murmured to Danielle.

  “Those are cute!” she cried.

  As I scrolled through other sale windows on the site, a constant crackling repeated down the phone line.

  “It seems like we’re getting a lot of static.”

  “I don’t hear anything,” Danielle replied.

  “You don’t? I keep hearing a rustling noise.”

  “Oh…that’s just me trying to locate my ATM card in my dirty purse…I seriously need to downgrade my bag size.”

  “You are too much!” I chuckled into the receiver. “I think I need to turn you into Shopaholics Anonymous.”

  “Yeah, I’ll go when you do,” she rebutted.

  “What? I don’t have a shopping problem! I’ve been trying to convert you to thrift stores for years!” I cried out, turning to make sure nobody heard me.

  “No you don’t, but you could afford to loosen the purse strings a little bit. Shop at a nationwide clothes retailer now and again,” she remarked. Danielle had great fashion sense, but unlike her, I didn’t like purchasing unnecessary items. My mom always said that the difference between Danielle and I was that I could hold on to every penny, whereas Danielle couldn’t. She routinely spent her allowance on clothes and was then broke until the next month.

  “Oh come on. I don’t buy my entire wardrobe at thrift stores, and I do splurge on occasion. I just purchased a mattress for your information. That was a huge splurge.”

  “Really…a mattress…that’s your big move?” she teased.

  “That mattress was fifteen hundred dollars! I’d call that quite a splurge!” I responded defensively.

  “If you say so,” she replied, resigned to my adamancy.

  After looking at the auction prices, as usual, I decided against purchasing any shoes since ninety-dollars on a set of pumps wasn’t in my monthly budget. I made a mental note to check online again in a month to see if the price dropped.

  Danielle and I compared notes on a few other styles and after a couple more minutes of oohing and awing, we ended our call.

  At nine o’clock an Outlook calendar reminder popped up on my screen. There was a concept meeting with LSC Capital Construction at ten that morning. A bit baffled, I checked the company calendar to verify that the information displayed on my screen was in fact correct. To my chagrin an additional meeting had been added to the morning docket in the main conference room.

  Suppressing an inward groan, I began the tedious task of collating Copple Marketing press kits, changing the sign outside of the conference room to read “Welcome LSC Capital Construction,” wiping down the leather chairs and red cherry wood table, and ordering coffee and pastries from Muffins coffee shop. Thankfully, Donnie, the catering manager, had one of his staff deliver the food I ordered. Donnie told me before that he only delivered for me since I gave their storefront a boost in business by ordering refreshments through their small shop.

  The one thing I despised more than making Trent’s coffee was playing sous chef and waitress to spoiled account executives. When I applied for my position of marketing assistant online, I failed to recall the description mentioning waiting hand and foot on groups of bloviating idiots who sat around a table coaxing one another to sign boiler plate non-disclosure agreements. I definitely didn’t need to have earned my masters in Communications to serve tea and crumpets. Even though I had an advanced degree, the right opportunity just hadn't presented itself yet.

  I finally finished setting up the conference room fifteen minutes before the meeting began and headed back toward my desk.

  I was in the middle of Powerpoint presentation edits when my desk phone rang. I picked up the phone, while saving my edits.

  “Good morning, Brooklyn—” I began. I was abruptly cut off.

  “We need more coffee and water for our meeting,” Trent barked into the phone, then hung up before awaiting my response.

  “Asshole,” I murmured under my breath as I placed the receiver back in the cradle.

  I made a beeline to the kitchen to brew more sludge and gather more water bottles and fill the backup coffee carafe.

  I entered the conference room quietly, trying not to disturb the flowing conversation and hoping to go undetected.

  “Well gents, if everyone is present, let’s start, shall we?” I heard Trent say, as I gingerly placed a water bottle in the serving basket.

  “We should probably wait a few more minutes. Our CEO is stuck in traffic. I just received a text from him,” a stocky male in a navy suit and black tie replied.

  With an indulgent chuckle, Trent responded, “Oh of course, that isn’t a problem at all, Scott. I suppose I am just eager to commence a prosperous business relationship with LSC Capital Construction.”

  I focused on organizing coffee cups as I discreetly rolled my eyes at Trent’s brownnosing. I was mindlessly refilling the coffee stirrer dispenser when a man’s voice broke my faux concentration.

  “I apologize for my tardiness, gentlemen. The traffic on the interstate was horrendous.” Surprise registered on my face when I lifted my head and saw Logan crossing the area of the conference room to shake Trent, Ed, and Ron’s hands courteously.

  “Good morning, sir! It is so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things about your company.”

  Of course Trent wasted no time sucking right up to Logan like a leech on a vein.

  “Logan Colton. Likewise, Trent.”

  I had flipped through articles about Logan Colton, entrepreneur in magazines laying around the office, but as Logan crossed the meeting room I realized the young big shot making headlines and the man I ran into on the street the other day were the same person. In my defense I’d never actually seen what he looked like. If the bylines in the articles would have read “smoking hot and sexy as hell CEO” accompanied by a lithe male with sexy, bedroom eyes, there was no way I would have gotten confused. Trust me.

  Logan was donning a black-pleated front, two-button suit and burgundy tie. His tailored suit accentuated his tall frame. The fabric wrapped nicely around his athletic body and well-defined arm muscles. I had to give it to him, the man knew how to dress.

  I snapped out of admiring Logan and swiftly returned to organizing the refreshment table, hoping he wouldn’t recognize me.

  “Ms. Caldwell, I see we meet again,” Logan said, shooting me a crooked smile from across the room.

  “Mr. Colton, nice to see you again as well,” I replied in an overly pleasant tone. Trent immediately tossed a questioning stare in my direction. Thanks to Logan’s salutation, I was sure Trent would barrage me with questions regarding how we knew one another. Yay—something else to look forward to, I thought to myself.

  “I see you’ve met my assistant,” Trent interjected in his snooty way, letting the last word linger. Trent would never pass a
n opportunity to reiterate my place within the company. “If you need a fresh cup of coffee, she’s your gal!” I wanted to slap Trent silly, but as usual, I held my urge.

  “I’m sure Ms. Caldwell has multiple talents. You’re lucky to have such a bright young woman on your staff,” Logan replied coolly. I think both Trent and I were shocked at his response, me more so, since Logan didn’t know the first thing about me, or my competencies.

  “Yes…yes she is…very bright,” Trent replied. I could tell he was attempting to keep the callousness out of his voice. I knew it bothered him that someone actually thought I was capable.

  “Thank you Mr. Colton,” I said.

  “I insist that you call me Logan…please…we’re no longer strangers,” he said, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

  “I forgot, sorry,” I replied, embarrassed at how I had dastardly accused the CEO of a potentially lucrative Copple client of being a stalker. In my mind, I was silently praying for death to escape the awkward situation, and unfortunately for me Trent had been following my not-so-private conversation with Logan like a tennis ball in a tourney. On cue, Trent interjected into the conversation.

  “Well Logan, why don’t we let Brooklyn get back to her work, and we can proceed to hatch out a prosperous deal between our two entities,” he said giddily. I could see the dollar signs in Trent’s eyes. He was so transparent.

  “I will be there in a minute Trent” Logan said, blowing off Trent’s invitation. Logan regarded Trent as if he was rudely interrupting our conversation. His muted green eyes donned shutters in Trent’s presence.

  “Oh…all right…my apologies,” Trent responded, puzzled.

  My subconscious cheered loudly. For the first and only time, I got to witness Trent cower and I wished I had it on video to replay again and again. Hopefully the new memory wouldn’t fade anytime soon.

  “Thank you for the coffee,” Logan said, turning back to me.

  “Just doing my job,” I said, brushing off his praise.

  Trent made another attempt to get the discussions under way and led Logan back to the conference room table, and I headed out of the room to leave the men to their egotistical powwow.

  6

  When I returned to the conference room after my lunch break to clean up, the executives were filing out into the corridor.

  I parked myself just inside the conference room door, waiting for everyone to clear out. When only a few execs remained, I began to gather the leftover press packets from the vacated table. I looked up when I felt a set of eyes boring a hole into the side of my face. Logan glanced at me, but I feigned ignorance and dutifully turned my head away. I discreetly slanted my eyes to see if Logan was still looking in my direction, and was rewarded with a coy smile.

  Diverting my attention back to my tasks, I noticed that Trent was moving his body slower than was humanly normal.

  “I’ll be right there,” Trent said to Ron, who was standing near the conference room entrance. As soon as everyone exited the room I attempted to thumb miscellaneous paperwork to avoid Trent and whatever interrogation he had planned.

  “I see you know Mr. Colton,” Trent sneered. “What I’m having the damndest time figuring, is how my assistant has made the acquaintance of one of the youngest CEOs on the East Coast, when it took me, the executive vice president, three months to cajole him into a meeting with Copple,” Trent continued.

  “I don’t know him, Trent. We bumped into each other in the lobby Monday as he was heading into a meeting with Ron. Until today I didn’t know who he was and I was certainly surprised to find that he was the CEO of a construction company,” I replied, maintaining my calm.

  “Well, don’t get too familiar with Mr. Colton. You’re here to complete the tasks that I assign you, and nothing more.”

  “Trent, I assure you, I know my role within this company.”

  “Well I just want to make sure you keep it that way. I feel it is necessary to remind you that you are expendable. One call to the temp agency and I can have another person to replace you, like that.” He emphasized his point by snapping his fingers in front of his face. “Just think, another young woman sitting at your desk on Monday morning, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and more than eager to please.”

  Just listening to Trent spout out deprecating bullshit brought me down from the brief euphoria I’d enjoyed while inconspicuously exchanging glances and small talk with Logan. I was officially back in hell.

  In a smooth tone I rebutted, “I know what my responsibilities at Copple are.”

  “Well good, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up,” Trent replied coldly, turning and walking abruptly out of the conference room, and leaving me to clean up the rest of the mess. As I discarded a paper plate into the trash, I silently gave myself a pep talk regarding all the reasons why I needed to stay gainfully employed.

  For the rest of the workday, I graciously welcomed a reprieve from dealing with my ass of a boss. At four thirty I shut down my computer. I was ready to leave and I was definitely not going to stick around to haphazardly run into Trent.

  I grabbed my purse out of my desk drawer and headed downstairs to get home before Law & Order: SVU came on at seven. Alex and I loved to watch the show together. Stabler’s antics were hilarious.

  I exited through the double doors on the executive floor without being detected and preceded down the staircase, practically running. My black kitten heels pounded on each stair as I continued my descent.

  Marci interrupted my mad dash for the front door just before I was free from Copple’s overbearing presence.

  “Oh, Ms. Caldwell! Someone left a note for you. I attempted to call you on your desk phone but I suppose you were away.”

  “Who left me a note?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. I found the envelope resting next to the visitor log.” Marci handed me the light envelope and I accepted it graciously.

  “That’s odd...maybe it’s a winning lotto ticket?” I shook the envelope as if it were Christmas morning.

  “Yeah, I doubt that honey,” she replied, amused by my phony optimism.

  “Thanks Marci. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I dropped the envelope in my purse and headed out the double doors of the building. As I walked down the street toward home, I relished in the fact that my day at the office was over.

  WHEN I ARRIVED HOME Alex was in the kitchen cooking. Salsa, cheese, and shredded lettuce were laid out on the kitchen island in small serving bowls. I tossed my purse on the counter and relaxed into one of the bar stools.

  “Hey Alex…smells good in here…tacos?” The scent of cumin, onion, and ground beef tickled my nostrils.

  “You guessed correctly. Jay put in a special request this morning so I all too happily obliged—in exchange for him taking my car in to get serviced in a few weeks,” she replied while dicing up half a tomato. Oh Alex, the grade A negotiator.

  “You know how I hate dealing with mechanics, they’re all a bunch of shysters.”

  “Well I hope there is enough for all of us. I definitely don’t feel like cooking after the day I had with you know who.”

  “Of course there is! Do I ever let my bestie go hungry? What did good ole’ Trent Walker do today?”

  “No you don’t…” I replied coquettishly. “Not too much; just reminded me of my high ranking on the company totem pole. Could you pass me a bottle of cranapple out of the fridge please?”

  “Sure…hold on a sec…” Alex said as she stirred the sizzling meat. “As far as Trent, that’s nothing new. I don’t know why you don’t just look for something else. You’re more than capable of doing more, it’s not like you aren’t talented. You really should look into becoming a freelance photographer…you’re really good at capturing shots,” she added, sliding the juice bottle down the kitchen island in my direction.

  “Alex…” I twisted off the cap to the cranapple juice.

  Alex had been on me about turning my photography hobby into a side gig ever since I purc
hased my DSLR camera a few years back.

  “What? I am being honest. Sometimes I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for your abilities.”

  “I can’t just up and quit my job. Newsflash: I have a boatload of student loan debt, and in case you didn’t know, freelance work is hard to come by—and certainly not a steady source of income,” I replied, taking a sip of the cold juice.

  “Nobody said it would be easy, but sometimes you have to color outside the lines. We both know you aren’t working your dream job, especially working for Trent.”

  “Yeah…well…my day also sucked ass because I found out that this random guy I bumped into last week and not-so-subtly called a stalker is actually the CEO of some construction company.”

  Alex’s ears immediately started twitching and perking up like a doberman pinscher. “Don’t start, Alex. It’s nothing like that. I was pretty embarrassed.”

  Alex looked at me pointedly. “Details! Now!” I sighed and rolled my eyes before recounting the short and sweet version of my encounter with Logan Colton. Alex found the whole episode hilarious, as I knew she would. I, on the other hand, failed to find the comedic relief in the whole disaster.

  “Well, I’m off to take a shower,” I said, reaching for my purse. The envelope that Marci gave me earlier caught my eye and I remembered I never opened it. My name was scribbled on the front in black ink. I skeptically pulled back the sticky flap and retrieved the small card that was inside. In the left corner of the card was a foil stamped pair of interlocking silver and royal blue blocks. The center of the card read:

  LSC Capital Construction

  Logan Colton

  Chief Executive Officer, PMP

  A black arrow at the bottom of the card indicated that I should turn it over. I did as instructed and found the message “hope to hear from you soon” scrawled in sloppy print. My mouth practically dropped to the floor. I continued to stare at the card until Alex broke my concentration.

  “What’s that?” she asked, intrigued. The thought of lying to her immediately came to mind.