“Yes, the office of Mr. Albert Gillman, of the Heritage Group et. al.” He then rattled off a number. Adam pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it dumbly. He hadn’t expected that it would be his responsibility to be prepared. The people around him were supposed to anticipate and respond to his needs, to make his life easier. He returned the receiver to his mouth.
“Can’t you just do it?” He asked icily. “Dial the number and combine the calls, or something.”
“Mr. Church, in order to do that I need two phone lines clear, which I do not currently have. There are a number of calls that have been placed and I need to be quick.” The second statement must have been exhaustively repeated, from the tone of the words. “There is a pen on the desk of your room, along with a pad. If you’ll fetch these I’ll repeat the number.” Adam glanced across the office quickly.
“Look I’m not in my room, I’m in my office. Can you just connect me?” His eyes roamed over the desk. It was already chaotic and impossible to find anything. Adam felt a flush of shame on his cheeks; the work day hadn’t even started yet, and already his desk was pandemonium.
“Sir, I have no ability to do that with the lines as busy as they are. If you could please look for something to write with. In your office.” Renfield amended the location, tacking it on at the end. Adam was sure it was a slight against him. “I can wait with you for only a moment, Mr. Church.”
Adam was about to say a thing or two about the front desk clerk’s tone, but he already had a pen ready. His hand had somehow retrieved it during the front half of the conversation.
“Yeah, I got one. Go.” Adam commanded sullenly into the phone.
Adam scribbled down the number dutifully as the front desk clerk rattled it off again. Adam hung up the phone and said his sardonic thanks to the empty air, already picking up the phone again. He squinted at the phone number he’d scratched on the corner of an empty employment form.
Dialing the number with as much confidence as he possibly could, Adam silently willed his interpretation of events to be right. As he pictured a successful completion of his call, silently attempting to bend the universe to his will, a heavy voice answered the phone.
“Heritage Group, Albert Gillman’s office, this is Linda, how may I help?” Adam froze for a moment, trying to figure out how to continue. What did one say to get rid of her?
“Hi Linda, this is Adam Church from the Tower. I was there yesterday to speak with Gill, is he in right now?” Adam silently congratulated himself on the craftsmanship of his question.
“I’m sorry, Adam from who? What church?” The voice, Linda, challenged.
Adam felt a storm brewing within him. He knew he was behaving perfectly, but the day he was having seemed to indicate otherwise.
“Mr. Adam Church. Business associate of Francis De La Poer and the Tower.” Worried that his words carried too much edge and not enough honey, Adam took a breath before he continued. “I’d like to speak to Gill, please.”
“One moment, Mr. Church, I’ll see if he is in yet.” With that the line fell into silence. Adam brooded in it. He hoped she didn’t honestly think he would believe that she didn’t know if Gillman was in yet. It was downright insulting. Why was today, of all days, proving to be so hard? As Adam alternated his lines of thought between criticizing Linda and lamenting the state of his day, the seconds ticked by.
“Mr. Church?” Linda’s voice reappeared, suddenly accompanied by a light uptick in the white noise of the background. Adam grunted out an affirmative response. Before he was done, Linda continued, “Mr. Gillman won’t be available at all this morning. Could I take a message for you?”
The blood rose ever higher in Adams veins. He could hear himself spitting as he responded.
“No. I know Gillman is there, I need to see him today. Set a tentative appointment for 3 o’clock and take down my name. If he sees my name and the meeting and wants to cancel, call me back. Otherwise, I’m there today at 3.” He briefly considered hanging up, but thought the better of it. There was still a strong chance she would succumb to his assault regardless, and confirmation would make him feel a great deal better.
“Mr. Church, I can’t just throw you down for a last minute, face-to-face appointment.” Linda’s heavy voice beset him from the phone. “To be honest with you, sir, I would fear for my job.” Her tone was flat. Adam quickly convinced himself that her response was just as rehearsed as all her other responses.
“I will be there at 3 o’clock unless Gill decides to cancel.” Adam said his piece evenly, but bitterly over the phone. He willed the poison to take root within her breast and choke the resistance out of her. As a final push, Adam slammed the phone back down into the receiver, giving her no recourse.
Adam leaned back in his desk, taking the moment to congratulate himself. His work day hadn’t even started yet, and already his plans with Gillman were coming to a head. By this time tomorrow, Adam reasoned, he would have everything he wanted. Francis would too, by the sound of things.
His eyes were drawn grudgingly to the mountain of paperwork that sat before him, demanding his focus. Scowling, Adam produced a pen from the cup on his desk. He placed it firmly on top of the stack, as if to signal that the work was in process. This small task completed, his eyes drifted around the room, searching for any source of distraction.
Several minutes and spins in his chair later and Adam was opening the desk drawer. Almost before he knew it, the bottle was in his hands and he was prying at the stopper. As he broke the seal, the smoky aroma wafted into the center of his being, sending slight shivers down his spine. This obstacle out of his way, Adam glanced around for a vessel. None were forthcoming from the drawer or his immediate surroundings. He silently chided Esmeralda. How could she bring him a bottle and not think to bring him a glass?
The lip of the bottle called out to him, but Adam was rigid with himself. This was a drink in celebration, nothing more. Celebratory drinks weren’t taken directly from the bottle. It simply wasn’t done. Adam felt uncharacteristically strongly that anyone who was drinking straight from the bottle before work was not the kind of person who had a right to celebrate anything. Thus it was decided: he needed a cup. He nodded to himself in encouragement, and slid around his desk. There had to be a cup or mug around the office somewhere, he reasoned.
Adam left his office, craning his neck around as he walked, trying to find any sort of break room. When this failed, he almost gave up in frustration. He attempted to retrace the steps Emily had taken to lead him to his office. Although a full hour had yet to pass since then, Adam found himself getting turned around. All of the hallways led into other hallways, and all the rooms they led to seemed to have identical clustered arrangements of desks. Adam tried to picture the layout of the office from where he had walked in, but the image kept being punctuated by a picture of a plain white coffee mug.
After what felt like minutes had ticked by, Adam finally stumbled headfirst into the small kitchen. He scowled. It was unusually positioned near the front of the office, which had to be some form of taboo in the architecture world. What rational human ever put a break room closer to the front of an office space than to the rear?
As he grumbled over it sotto voce, he almost ran headfirst into Lily, who was quietly mixing something into a cup of coffee facing the machine. Adam stumbled over his feet, pulled himself to a stop a few inches away, and narrowly managed to avoid plowing directly into her. At the sound of his shoes squeezing against the slick tile, however, Lily whirled around.
Adam registered something in her face for the barest fraction of a second. It wasn’t an expression or arrangement of her features. It wasn’t shock, or fear, or anything he could put a name to. It was another face, as familiar to Adam as his own. For less than the space of a breath Adam looked once more into Susan’s warm eyes again. Her face was framed with the frizzy mane he had come to associate with Lily, but it was undoubtedly his wife looking back at him. And then, a heartbeat later, his groin
was on fire.
Adam glanced down, losing sight of his wife and staring at the slick, wet appearance on the front of his pants. His flesh burned in the presence of the near-boiling liquid, and Adam danced wildly, whipping his legs back and forth in an attempt to break free. When this failed, he extended his fore fingers and thumbs in an attempt to pry off the wet fabric.
Adam instinctively yelped up toward the heavens, right into Lily’s shocked face.
“Adam!” She exclaimed, her voice steeped with concern. “Oh gods, I am so sorry!” She unspooled a length of paper towel from the kitchen counter, and immediately rushed to clean her spill. She shifted back and forth, desperately trying to match Adam’s own mad dance.
“Fuck!” Adam finally hollered, the pain subsiding enough for his animal brain to cede control. He felt, rather than saw, the eyes of other employees upon him as he madly gyrated back and forth away from the oppressive burning. The slick, wet feeling which seared his nerves overwhelmed and completely confused his senses. Furthermore, with every press of paper towel, his skin was only brought closer to the dangerously hot fabric. “Fucking–” Adam sucked in a breath. “Stop!”
Lily looked up, no small amount of guilt and confusion furrowing her brow. She let the damp towel fall to the floor and rose from her knees. Blinking with a fierceness Adam wasn't able to put cause to, she suddenly disappeared through one of the exists, the few workers who had gathered around it parting for her to pass.
Adam growled deep in his throat, and grabbed the coffee mug she had been holding. Then, shame coloring his cheeks, he half-waddled, half-ran back to his office. Adam nearly got turned around twice, each time anxious about the eyes following him steadily.
When he reached his office, he slammed the door behind him so hard he could hear it shaking in the frame. He stripped himself of the linen slacks and surveyed the damage. His briefs were still wet with a faint brown stain, but a cautious peek underneath allowed him to breathe easier. Everything looked mostly as it should, though his thighs throbbed with each heartbeat in a glaring and ugly red. Not knowing what to do, Adam pressed his palms to the skin, using the sensation of pressure to drown out the feeling of burning.
After several moments of bracing himself against his thighs, Adam made his way to his desk. There, still open, sat the bottle of Tir Na Nog which Esmeralda had given him. He filled the coffee cup almost halfway before setting the bottle back own and taking a sip. The liquor roared down to his stomach, making him unnaturally aware of its presence. Adam shuddered at the feeling, usually so exciting to him, as he felt the burn reflected on his tender skin. He scowled at the mug. Some remnants of its original contents had corrupted the drink, or he was simply imagining a coffee aftertaste. Either way it was all the more bitter for it.
Adam glared at the bright office around him, taking another cautious sip. It had certainly taken a turn, he brooded. The sound of knocking interrupted his cycle of self-pity. Adam glared with suspicion at the door. The gentle knocking sounded again. The door began to open, despite Adams stern mental reminder to it that he had locked it. Adam glanced down at his bare legs, and the black dress socks which were pulled nearly up to his knees.
Chapter Nineteen
“Front desk,” Renfield spoke sleepily into the phone. He hazarded a glance at the small round analog clock on his desk while he waited for the caller to begin speaking. He read the dial irritably. It was far too early to be receiving as many calls as he had been.
“Um, hello. This is Linda from the Heritage Group, calling on behalf of Albert Gillman’s office.” Renfield twirled his hand while she spoke, mentally willing her to get to the point. “I would like to speak with a Mr. Adam Church’s most immediate supervisor.”
Renfield perked up a bit at that. Half a week in and the golden boy was already in hot water. He chuckled to himself internally. Adam was starting to fit right in. The question that now fell to Renfield was to determine just who Church’s immediate supervisor might be. Even if Adam fit somewhere on a formal hierarchy, it wasn’t as if the various occupants of the offices at the Tower gave the front desk their organization charts. He pondered this for a few quiet moments before his thoughts were interrupted by the woman on the other end of the phone.
“Hello?” Linda said uncertainly into the receiver.
“Hold.” Renfield commanded into the phone, bitterness dripping from the word. Alisha, one of the few executives who didn't also stay in the Tower, hadn’t come in yet. There was only one recourse available to him, one which Renfield detested. Grudgingly, he pressed the key to open a second line, and then the button for the office on the top floor.
♖♖♖
“Oh I’m so sorry!” Lily’s tone indicated the opposite as she fought to speak through giggles.Adam was leaning against his desk, a sight in everything except his pants. Lily's eyes strayed downward, a new fit of giggles rising at the sight of the tall black socks against his pale white legs.
Adam felt a flush rising to his cheeks, but couldn’t find anything in his sparsely-decorated office to hide his shame. The panic of the moment had actually carried his relaxed form up from the edge of the desk where he had been sitting.
“Haven't you done enough?” Adam exclaimed, choosing to attempt indignation to cover himself. Lily lowered her gaze, focusing on the spirals of the carpet.
“I came to apologize,” Adam severely doubted that. “For spilling the coffee, I mean.” She hastily amended, aware suddenly she had run afoul of him twice that day.
Adam, finally seeking the cover he ought, dashed behind the desk to the leather seat there. It felt cold against the backs of his thighs, a sensation he desperately wished would spread to the area affected by the burn.
“You apologized. Now get out.” Adam commanded sullenly. Risking a glance at Lily, he chided himself. From the look on her face she was playing hurt, completing the charade with a helpless shrug.
“Look, I really didn’t mean to– I know it doesn’t make it any better, but I thought you should know.” Lily rambled, her eyes darting in Adam’s direction. They lingered at waist level.
Great; just what he needed. Adam was in no mood to put up with the constant flirtations, always reeking of loneliness and desperation. He scooted himself closer to the desk, hoping to end the matter. Attempting to act naturally, he grabbed the coffee cup from where it sat across the desk.
“Apology accepted. Now, I have a lot of work waiting on me,” Adam paused to take a sip from his mug. He sputtered suddenly, having gulped down a full mouthful of liquor completely unprepared.
Lily’s eyes strayed to the nearly full bottle of whiskey on Adam’s desk.
“Work.” She whispered skeptically before Adam could finish his sentence. She took a few short steps closer to the desk, stalking toward the coughing Adam.
Adam nodded desperately, still coughing violently as she closed in on him. He was too conscious of his vulnerable position. She leaned across the table and snatched the coffee cup from him. He looked away sternly from her open blouse, focusing his entire presence of mind on the raking of his throbbing throat. He grasped at the open air blindly, trying to secure the mug back from her. Finally, as the fit subsided, he hazarded a look back at her. She was now a few steps further away, nursing what was left in the mug with a grin on her face.
“What?” Lily asked his grasping hand, defensively. “It’s my mug.” She commented smugly, touching the white ceramic to her red lips. “Not bad, Adam, not bad.” She breathed, satisfactorily into the cup.
“I was celebrating. Trying to.” Adam felt defensive, even in the presence of a woman whose vices were as readily apparent as the red in her hair. Lily tapped the mug with a fingertip wrapped through the handle.
“It’s also my office.” She glanced around theatrically, as if inspecting the space.
Adam was momentarily stunned. Lily had every appearance of an indulgent heir, feeding parasitically off a large inheritance as though it would never end. She was also not someone Ada
m had ever registered as possible competition, but undoubtedly she was brooding over the loss of her office. Even now, perhaps she was planning on finding some way to undermine and embarrass him.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Adam responded robotically while the wheels turned in his mind.
Lily laughed. It wasn’t the warm, approving laugh Adam was used to. It wasn't even the fake, self conscious, follow-the-leader kind of bullied laugh he usually got. It was something else. Something arrogant, and mocking. Her laugh challenged him, questioned his worth, delighting in his ignorance.
“Oh, you’re precious.” Lily wiped away a tear that wasn’t there. “I hardly used it after I broke in the desk.” The intensity of her gaze left Adam little doubt as to what she meant. As if in reconciliation, she passed over the empty coffee cup. Adam filled it hesitantly, still trying to determine exactly where Lily sat in relation to his ambitions.
Adam took a sip from the mug, declining Lily's waiting hand. It was a challenge. Regardless of what it meant to her personally, the office was a symbol. Adam had spent a few months as a traveling salesman for a bogus water filter company. The best of their salesmen were given their own offices. Those who were successful enough to earn them spent all their working hours hawking their cheap ineffective products on the gullible, or trying to convince their rich grandmothers to buy a sixth one. Ostensibly the offices were for important client meetings, but the only thing they were ever really good for was the occasional after-hours rendezvous.
Adam had taken that symbol from Lily, regardless of what she said. It was still a message to the rest of the Tower that he had supplanted her. Either she really didn’t care, or she was much more adept at the game of politics than Adam had anticipated. He grinned internally. He had never hocked enough filters to earn himself an office, but the days of him slaving away in a meritocracy were long over. Lily might find him a more difficult adversary than she ever bargained for, especially once he hung Gillman out to dry.
Heritage (The Slendervale Series Book 2) Page 14