Shattered Heart

by Carol May

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  This morning meeting at my Miami branch is dragging. Lifting a brow as Johnson, the southern Florida manager, is droning on about statistics I can quote in my sleep, I look to the end of the table studying the assembled group. Most seem as board as I am. Underlining the note for Nash to compile background information on the key personnel within this office, I am seriously considering major changes after sitting through four hours of this. The reports being presented for review are lack luster, definitely not the quality of work I expect from my leaders. Frowning as I evaluate the entire morning, unfortunately it as not surpassed my low expectations. A one word summary for this morning, tedious. Generally, my philosophy is if my people have taken time away from another projects to put a presentation together for me, I will sit through it. At this moment, I have had enough. Pushing back from the conference table, I glance at my DeVille watch, doing something very uncharacteristic for me, interrupting the presentation. I stand causing everyone in the room to look toward me.

  “Johnson, I believe this is an excellent place to break for lunch.” Looking around the table, “We will pick up at this point in two hours.”

  As I walk past the new furniture I was surprised to find when I entered the office earlier today, before I head into the washroom, I stop at my desk. Anyone that knows anything about me should be able to read into my expression how displeased I am with the direction of this meeting.

  Nash joins me at the elevator where we begin discussing a video conference I have with the Rome office later today. Nodding his head toward my door Nash clears his throat, “Sir, Melinda, has scheduled a lunch meeting with Johnson. Apparently, he would like to pitch a new proposal that he has developed.”

  Looking at him, he understands my displeasure at the thought of this. “Alright, this one time I will allow him to present informally. However, I want it made clear that this is the first and last time this will happen.” Raising his hand motioning, Johnson joins us.

  “Mr. Donovan, would you prefer to take the private elevator?” Johnson asks as we enter the elevator. “No this is fine.” I step to the back. I actually would prefer it but somehow I get the feeling Johnson will start his pitch the moment we enter and the poor little man has no idea that I more than likely will never hear what he has to say.

  This is what I hate about public elevators, stopping on what seems like every floor as we descend from the thirtieth. At what point do people have enough sense to not step on when those already onboard are a tightly packed group? Somewhere around eighteen, the doors open revealing a simply stunning woman. She is speaking to another woman whom I assume is her associate. They step into join us in the crowed car. Every male behind her, appreciates that she joined us, as our eyes devour her ass in that tight skirt. Watching her, I notice how the light causes her shoulder length black hair to appear as if it has a blue cast to it. Damn, I’m getting hard as I adjust myself. It has been a day or two since I sunk myself into some moist heat.

  Can’t he shut his mouth? I would have Nash toss Johnson off on the next stop but I prefer to keep my anonymity. If I’d wanted to take the private elevator doesn’t the fool realize I would have? These types of misunderstandings, actually more of a lack of understanding me, is what concerns me so about this office. For whatever reason, the overall personality, does not fall into character with my vision for this branch. The more Johnson speaks, the more convinced I become that I may need to look at relocation of several people, him being one. I really need to look at his profitability rates. This morning’s meeting is not something I would list under the eagerness to repeat category. Generally, I look forward to visiting here, well until Johnson replaced Hannah Goldman. I am sorry we lost her. I am happy she found what she was called, ‘true love”. I will miss the skills she brought to my boardroom but especially to my bedroom. I think about the wildcat she was. There were multiple times, the evidence remained on my back for several days.

  What in the world was Nash thinking when he approached me about listening to this fool any longer than I must? I have a suspicion that Melinda, my new assistant here in Miami, might have had something to do with it. She has been glancing at Nash quite a bit today. Obviously, she knows nothing about my friend Nash, or she would know it was a foregone conclusion that they will have an experience, I believe that is what he calls his little banging sessions. We exit the elevator, moving across the lobby as quickly as I can, Nash understands my pace. I doubt if Johnson has moved this fast in years. Stepping onto the sidewalk, I see Jeff is leaning against the car waiting.

  “Jeffery.”

  “Mr. Donovan.”

  As he opens the back door, I have no doubt he has picked up on our unspoken code. When I use his full name, as I rarely do, he knows my mood is generally not pleasant. I slide in across the seat allowing a space for Johnson. Sitting in the front with Jeff, Nash remains silent as my navy Mercedes pulls away from the curb. Both of my longtime friends sitting in the front, can interpret my temperament enough to understand I am unhappy at this moment. The fact that this will more than likely be the most excruciating meal I will have to endure during my month here causes me to frown at the thought. Simply hearing his voice makes me want to have Jeff stop the car and toss him out. That is twice I have thought about tossing him out of something. He has no idea how lady luck is on his side at this very moment. I make a mental note to explore how he rose to the position of VP in Charge of the Miami Branch. Looking out the window as we move along at a very slow pace by Miami standards I see a little restaurant up ahead. The quicker we get this started the quicker this will be over. “Jeff, pull over. I want to eat at this little Bistro here on the corner.” Meeting my eyes in the mirror, Jeff knows my moods enough that both he and Nash understand why I’ve just changed my plans.

  “But Sir, I took the liberty of making us reservations at my club. I had hoped to show you…”

  I really don’t think he wants me to respond to what he is saying so before the annoying little man beside me can get any further with his comment, I look across the seat at him as my lips tighten and my eyes narrow. He must have correctly interpreted my facial expression because he shut the hell up. Following with my request, Jeff pulls around allowing the four of us to quietly enter using the back entrance.

  Chapter 3

  After we order, I enjoy the charm of The Downtown Bistro. This must be one of the oldest buildings in Miami. I make a mental note to research it. Looking around, I can’t believe my eyes and mutter to Lana to look who is sitting in the back of the room. In a small alcove, which ensures some privacy sits the men from the elevator. As I point this out to Lana, I also notice the person in the center, he is the essence of power. His wavy hair the color of milk chocolate makes me want to jump up, go over and run my hands through it. I really do have a thing for hair.

  Lana lets out a little laugh. Oh goodness, did I say that out loud? “I know exactly what you are thinking and yes, Charli you did say it out loud. You have always had a thing for men with good hair and saying things out loud that maybe you shouldn’t. Even way back in college. Remember when you would say”… I hold up my hand to stop her.

  “Ok, Lana I know, I know, I need to learn to control myself. Let’s not go down memory lane. Changing the subject I say, “It was a good presentation actually great I thought.” Lana agrees and we decide to celebrate just a little tonight. So, Billy’s it is, then?”

  Just as I leave the Ladies, my phone vibrates. I stop beside a small table to read the text in the hall when I notice the old photographs depicting Miami, during a different era, arranged around some period pieces. Because this stuff fascinates me, I pick up a photograph to take a closer look. As I am examining this interesting, old photo someone bumps me, causing me to drop it. I jerk my head around, only to find one of the men from the elevator. When he says sorry, like it was my fault he bumped into me, I recognize his voice as the person that made that awful comment.

  I begin silently counting one: sta
y quiet, two: don’t do it, three: get past it. I bend down to pick up the photo. (The jerk didn’t even offer to pick it up for me. Real gentleman, this one is.) Successfully, talking myself out of saying something very un-lady like.

  I hear a deep masculine voice, “Is everything alright?”

  I stand up, turn around and before me is the sex god with milk chocolate hair. Barely mumbling out a response, “Yes, everything is fine.” I failed to add, no thanks to this one standing here.

  Perfect Hair flashes me a smile that could mess with my sanity and then says, “Here let me take this.” I jerk back quickly as our hands briefly touch sending a jolt through me. He smiles again, as I attempt to laugh off that shock as best as I can.

  “Thanks.” Fighting the urge to run my hands through that hair that is less than an arm’s length away, I turn to make my way back to our table. Turning I realize I must navigate a passageway that seems to have collapsed. I now know what it must feel like if you’re the camel someone is trying to stuff through the eye of a needle. Lana looks up at me frowning. “I thought you got lost. Charli, are you alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.” Nodding she stood and we headed out.

  “Hey, check your phone, Joan tried to call you.”

  “Really? I didn’t hear it. Oh I put it on vibrate and failed to turn the ringer back on.” Wrinkling her forehead as she pulled out her phone to check it, “Yep, I see that now. What did she want?”

  Grimacing a little, I told her, “A Blaine Company representative called.”

  “Ooo, that quick. Doesn’t sound good does it?”

  “I don’t know but they want you to call them back.” As we walk almost a block down the street, we agree that a call this important shouldn’t be made until she’s back in the office.

  “You head on back without me. My head has hurt all morning. I’m going to take advantage of the work for yourself thing. I’m going home, find a dark, quiet room. Namely my bedroom and lay down for a-while.”

  “Ok, if you need me let me know. Are you positive you’re ok?”

  “Yes, I am.” Not sure that quiet time is really what I want after looking into those chocolate eyes and feeling that jolt throughout my body.

  Just as we are about to get into the taxi, I realize I left my bag by the table. “Lana, what’s gotten into me? I’ve left my yellow bag at our table. You go ahead.” Walking back to the restaurant, I find the table has been cleared and set for the next customers. Quickly looking around, I don’t see it anywhere. I ask our server of which she knows nothing about it. Her answer just sends me into a mini rant. “Great! Just great. That was an expensive bag. Well expensive for me, at least.”

  “You can leave your name and number in case it turns up, Mam.” Thank goodness it didn’t have my laptop in it.

  Chapter 4

  “Sir, is something wrong?” I must have frowned when I sat down causing him to ask me a trivial question that he knows I hate. No, Nash I’m fine even better now that Johnson is gone. Where did he disappear to?”

  Nash and Jeffery look at each other and then sit there for just a moment, finally Nash responded. “He received a call just after he sat back down. Something about being needed back at the office.”

  “That’s interesting that someone at the office would call him away from a lunch with the company’s owner. Someone back there has balls.” I couldn’t help a grin from forming on my face, “How fortunate for us boys. How fortunate for us.” Looking from one to the other with neither indicating they had made that happen, “Thanks guys. You two know how to make my problems disappear, don’t you?”

  “That would be why you pay us the big bucks, Boss Man.”

  “I noticed a frown when you sat back down, was there a specific reason?”

  No Jeff, no reason. Pointing to the front of the room, something under that table caught my eye as I was returning. I was focused on it. No doubt, something someone left behind.”

  Nash quickly looked around. “Where? I’ll check it.” Returning, with what appeared to be a woman’s laptop bag, Jeff couldn’t contain the harassment that I saw brewing as Nash sat the bag on the seat beside him.

  “Hey Nash, I know expert bomb technicians like you can work in any situation.”

  Smiling and nodding his head, Nash proudly punching out his chest, “Yes, I can, Jeff.”

  “Like I was trying to say before I was rudely interrupted, if that bag you sat down has a bomb in it and you brought it back to this table, I’m going to give you the beating of your life after it’s diffused, little brother.”

  “Dumbass, do you think I would bring it back to this table if it had a bomb in it? Especially, if Houston and I are seated here. Now if it was just you, I might consider it.”

  Shaking my head at the two of them, I am always amazed at the bickering they do. I know ninety-nine percent of the crap they throw at each other is just that, crap. “Sometimes, I don’t mind this girl fighting you two do but today it’s getting on my nerves. Just shut it up.”

  I caught Nash winking at Jeff. Just about the time Jeff said, “The big man has spoken. Those of us that don’t sit in the back of the car, and wear five thousand dollar suits have received the message loud and clear.”

  With a twinkle in my eye, I responded, “If you don’t stop talking, you may find yourself without a job, old man.”

  “Old man, I am not that much older than you. I’m thirty-eight so that makes you what? Thirty-four. Old man, my ass.”

  Just as we were finishing our meal, they started at each other again. Jeff pointed at the bag sitting beside Nash, “You know, that shade of yellow is your color. I especially like that patterned scarf you’ve tied onto it. That print is fabulous.”

  Nash responds to that snide little comment with a scowl. “Funny Jeff, very funny. If I didn’t know you had a wife that loves to drag you to fashion week when we are in New York, I might be just a little concerned as to why you used the term fabulous, with that particular tone of voice. Even more concerning might be the fact that you commented on the patterned scarf.”

  Nash looks down at it lifting the ends, “Besides, it is a silk scarf by Jose Hernando if I was to guess.” “Really, you are giving me hell and you know the damn designer? Which brother should be worried about which?” Jeff asks.

  “FYI, Bro” Nash responds with a sarcastic voice, using his breadstick as a pointer,” I tend to know which designers utilize strong but sensual feeling products. You might be surprised to know that a great many ladies these days really enjoy their hands being restrained in some manner. You might up your game some and make my sister in law a happier woman”.

  “Ok boys. Enough. If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like this is the beginning of a cat-fight. It really does concern me though. You two know way too much about women’s clothing.”

  Giving a wicked little grin, Nash commented, “It helps to know the terminology and designers these days. Especially if you don’t have an untold number of zeros in your bank account.”

  Raising my hand, I suggested, “You two need to get into the gym and pound out some of that brotherly love. Better yet, Jeff book us all three some time for the ring. I’ll take the last man standing.” Just as I end their bickering, I glance up to see that raven haired beauty re-enter. I couldn’t pull my eyes from her as she crossed the room to the table where Nash retrieved the bag. She looked underneath the table, turning she spoke with a server. Finally, she ended up at the counter. Nash must have seen her also, he began to stand but I shook my head, no. Shrugging he sits back down. Keeping the bag out of sight. Who in their right mind, is carless or forgetful enough to leave their bag behind? Typical airheaded female, I have no doubt but she didn’t sound like one during that brief exchange of words earlier. With the designer clothing she is dressed in, (Who says I don’t know women’s designers?) I have no doubt that her focus when she was leaving was on anything except her bag. This type of error in both personal and business life can be v
ery serious, possibly deadly, especially with some of the people I deal with. Just a prime example of what I see on a daily basis, carelessness. No wonder most people don’t succeed in business.

  With that snug fitting clothing, I don’t know what women call it, but apparently Jeff or Nash might know, I have no doubt that business is not her focus. I would like to know what her focus is. If it is business then I have no doubt I could change it.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  My head hurts! What in the world is that sound and where is it coming from? Whatever it is, it’s very annoying. With each sound it feels like an ice pick stabbing away at my head. There it is again but it is a little louder. I think it is a beep I just am not sure. It doesn’t really matter were the sound is coming from, I just want it to stop.

  “Mom, what are you doing here?” Why doesn’t she answer me? My eyes are heavy as I struggle to open them just as I realize my phone is going off. Looking at it I see I have seven messages, most of them reminding me to be at Billy’s tonight. The last one says,

  Charli, I need u 2 b at Billy’s 2nite. Am making my mov. Need ur support!!!!!!!!

  I respond with a smile.

  U’ve got this. … u … n … a… few.

  I love texting. Looking at my other text, I see Joan has also let me know someone has dropped my bag off at the office. Thank goodness.

  Laying on my bed for a few, I’m trying to decide if I really want to go tonight. My headache is gone and maybe Billy’s is what I need. Week nights at Billy’s calls for nothing special-jeans, shirt and heels. Which is a really good after the full on business attire from today. Even though, I enjoy wearing a pencil skirt, silk blouse and pumps, casual sounds really good at this very minute. I drag myself off of the bed and to my closet.

  As I enter, I hear the weeknight band playing something upbeat but not over the top. The floor to ceiling windows provide a breath taking view of the city. Several people are here with most gathered into groups in those soft leather chairs enjoying each others company. A few are on the dance floor but everyone knows, Billy’s dancing doesn’t really start until after mid-night which gives us the opportunity to chat without yelling.