Fifteen Weekends (2 page)

  Upon further inspection of the files, Emily’s blood began to boil. These were the first revisions for the retail store infographics Emily thought she’d misplaced two weeks ago. The completed files vanished from the database, and the hard copies were missing from her filing cabinet. Emily had to stay and work overnight to re-do everything in order ready for her presentation the next day.

  This had her former colleague Morgan Allen’s passive aggressive stench all over it. Morgan had just been fired and was furious with Emily as a result. Needless to say, security had to escort Morgan off the property—she did not go quietly.

  Her boss, Clark Reynolds began by saying, “How’s everyone doing today?”

  Susan Baker replied, “Doing very well.” 

  Ethan Carlson pretended to be interested in something on his phone only giving a polite nod to Clark. Mike Landry shuffled his notes while a few of the other executives grabbed coffee and water.

  “Glad to hear. Let’s get started with our retail numbers report. Ethan you have the floor.”

  Emily glanced at her phone, and her mind began to drift. The very word “numbers” was a sometimes-emotional trigger for her. It was so silly. Why did such a common word drive her crazy? Oh yeah, because of
him
.

  Trying desperately not to let her mind go there, she shifted in her chair and focused on the report in front of her, but then her boss asked for last weeks  “weekly net income statement.” It was too late. Emily’s thoughts had already drifted to him, Craig Walker. She felt her cheeks begin to change color. Gripping her pen tightly she glanced out the window, spying a robin perched on the large pine tree outside.

  Emily met Craig during her last year of grad school at University of Chicago—tall, dark and handsome. He was funny, intelligent and incredibly charming. The perfect specimen, Craig Bennett Walker met every desirable cliché on the “What Women Want in a Man” list.

  Numbers, stats and stocks were his passion, and for some odd reason, even though at first Emily could only relate to about a quarter of what Craig was talking about regarding the stock market, it was a total turn on for her. Emily had been in The Loop district interviewing for a position at The Bath Shop’s corporate headquarters when she stumbled into an out of the way bar called Mulligan’s. Feeling pretty good that she had most likely landed the job, she wanted to celebrate with a cold beverage.

  It was a hot afternoon in Chicago, about eighty-six degrees, and there was a wonderful breeze coming off the lake, which made it slightly tolerable outside. Hiking along Wacker Drive wearing black pants and a black suit jacket was no easy task. Her back was soaked, and her feet felt sweaty and numb from her narrow kitten heels.

  The smoky bar was packed wall to wall with suits, mostly men with a few women sprinkled throughout. Suddenly, Emily felt twenty pairs of eyes dart in her direction. She felt like a fool standing there all by herself in the doorway, sweat beading at the back of her neck.  That was the moment when Emily first saw Craig, the most handsome guy she’d ever laid eyes on. He reminded her of a cross between a young Paul Newman and JFK Jr., very all American gorgeous.

  Aside from the current awkward feeling, Emily felt especially pretty that day. Underneath her blazer was a cream colored sleeveless blouse that showed off her glowing, warmly tanned skin. Emily had been on the lake the weekend before giving her just enough color to say, “I’m ready for summer.”

  Shrugging off her jacket, Craig caught her stare. She smiled at him, and he motioned to the bartender. Craig scooped up two beers and headed in her direction, never taking his eyes off of her as he weaved in and out of the crowd, gliding closer to where she was standing. Craig had the best smile, and it was only amplified by his frosty blue eyes and warm complexion.

  Emily’s heart skipped a beat, and she jumped in her chair. Her colleague Susan had clumsily dropped her accounting binder on the floor, and Emily realized she was back in the boardroom not at Mulligan’s bar.

  “
Sorry
everyone, I am so very sorry,” Susan stammered.

  “It’s okay Susan. It happens to us all,” Clark replied trying to make her feel less embarrassed.

   Emily bowed her head and rolled her eyes so no one could see her reaction to Susan, the bumbling idiot.

  “Emily, how are things in the Marketing Department this week?” Clark inquired.

  “Things in Marketing are going well. We’re finalizing the logo graphics for the new line, The Huntington Collection,” she stated firmly. “Those graphics should be ready for my final revisions next week along with the updated retail infographics.”

  Lowering his dark rimmed glasses, Clark praised, “Outstanding Emily, keep up the good work.” Closing his iPad, he looked around the table and said, “Good work everyone. Meeting adjourned. Have a nice evening.”

  Pushing to her feet, Emily gathered her items and walked down the hallway to her office. She looked at the clock hanging on the wall, which read 4:35 P.M.  Before she could depart the office and end her workday, she had some paperwork to finish. A text from Amanda Parsons popped up on Emily’s phone: HEY
LADY
,
DO
YOU
WANT
TO
GO
OUT
TONIGHT
AND
HAVE
A
FEW
MARTINIS
?

  Emily did not want to go out with Amanda because she knew that Amanda would hold her hostage until at least two in the morning and make her pay for all the drinks. Knowing she had to be in the office promptly at eight the next morning, Emily had a good reason not accept Amanda’s invite. Emily ignored the text for about twenty minutes then replied: NO
,
I
AM
SO
SORRY
I
HAVE
PLANS
TONIGHT
.
THANK
YOU
FOR
THE
INVITE
.

  As she started filing paperwork into the folder labeled
The Huntington Collection
her phone buzzed again. It was another text message from Amanda, pleading with her to come out for drinks. Emily read the text and sighed.
Why can’t Amanda just take no for an answer?

  Locking her computer she double-checked her day planner viewing her Friday schedule, gathered her things and walked towards the door of her office. Her phone lit up again, and she rolled her eyes thinking what more could Amanda have to say? It was not Amanda. It was a message from, her trainer Andy, whom Emily referred to as “Annoying Andy.” He wanted to know if she was going to workout at the gym tonight. She ignored the text and proceeded to the door. Emily knew in her current state of mind her workout would be a waste of time.

  “A moment, Emily,” she heard a man’s deep voice say.

  Emily looked up and saw Ethan Carlson, the Director of Retail Operations standing there coolly darkening her doorway. Ethan was one of the best looking guys at Cooper Bentley.  He had gorgeous tousled brown hair, thick dark eyebrows that were perfectly manicured framing his deep brown eyes. Usually Emily prefers men to have a clean-shaven face, but Ethan had just enough scruff that was appealing. Like his eyebrows, this too was perfectly manicured, not an untamed wild mess. Standing about six foot two, with a swimmer’s build, rumor had it Ethan swam every morning, six days a week. Apparently it was part of his strict workout and diet regimen. If that was true, it showed. 

  “Oh, hi again Ethan. Did you need something from me?” she asked, feeling her heart thump wildly in her chest. 

  “Yeah, I just spoke to Clark and we decided that the retail infographics need your final revisions by Tuesday.”

  Emily felt her neck and face become flush. She turned away from Ethan’s gaze and rolled her eyes. Ethan Carlson certainly had a knack for getting under Emily’s skin. 
Arrogant…confident…handsome…arrogant…lethally sexy. Why was he so damn good-looking? Oh, but don’t forget how big of an ass he can be.

  “Are you serious Ethan?” she inquired sharply. “That means I’m going to have to work the weekend. And in case you didn’t know Ethan, it’s a holiday weekend.” 

  Emily was now directly in front of Ethan, close enough to smell the subtle scent of lemon mixed with warm leather. Emily knew this fragrance well. It was Yves Saint Laurent L’Homme Libre cologne. He wore it every single day.

  
God he smells divine.

  “You can do it Emily, I have faith in you,” he replied smoothly.

 
What a crock of shit.

  Her hand drifted up the wall turn the light off, the office was now dark and she was moving towards the door’s threshold. Ethan inched back allowing Emily to cross giving her just enough space to shut the door to her office. The air between them shifted as she caught Ethan raking his eyes over her. Sweat began to form on the back of Emily’s neck.

  “Can I walk you out?” he inquired. His voice was smooth and sultry.

  While she would rather Ethan just fuck off and leave her to stew about having to work the weekend, Emily nodded, and he motioned for her to walk first. She took a few small steps, but Ethan ended up right beside her, matching her pace. As they walked down the hallway side by side passing the reception desk, Emily felt something hit the small of her back. It was just Ethan’s hand, leading her out the door. A pleasurable shiver moved through her entire body as a ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

  “Plans tonight Emily?” Ethan asked, while opening the door and allowing her to walk outside first.

  The warm spring breeze was incessantly whipping strands of her long brunette hair across her face. Emily shook her head to the left and pushed the tousled strands back behind her ear. Emily caught Ethan’s deep brown eyes gazing at her with intensity as she smoothed her hair back into place.

  “Yes, big plans,” she replied. “Thanks to you, I have to rearrange my weekend schedule.”

  He said nothing, only arching one of his dark eyebrows at her while the curve of his mouth turned upward.

  Emily could tell he was irritated with her comment. She decided she’d rather not piss him off, that could be a mistake. Careful with her tone, Emily replied, “Okay, Ethan, so tell me this, why the rush with the paperwork?”   

  “Emily,” he began, his jaw tightening. “We’re still trying to piece together the mess left behind by your former assistant,” he snapped. “Those infographics should have been done two weeks ago. Your department is a wreck, and we have a major presentation with LA Business Design coming up in a matter of days.”

  Emily blanched, and her temper flared. It wasn’t her fault that Morgan was a complete fuck up, but as the Director of Marketing she had to assume some responsibility where Morgan’s less than stellar job performance was concerned. Emily had pushed for Clark’s approval to fire Morgan weeks ago, but Morgan somehow dodged every bullet that came her way and avoided getting fired until Emily was finally left with no choice.

  They crossed the parking lot and arrived at Ethan’s black Lexus LS 460. He pressed the button on his car keys and smoothly opened the door of the sleek sedan. As much as Ethan irritated her, Emily couldn’t deny she was physically attracted to him. She imagined for a moment what it would be like sliding into this beautiful work of luxurious machinery with Ethan. With one of his hands on the wheel, the other clutching her knee they would drive up the lakeshore to his beach house for the weekend. Biting her bottom lip at the delightful thought, she quickly pushed it out of her mind feeling a bit embarrassed.

  The sun was shining directly in Emily’s blue-green eyes, so she placed her right hand on her forehead to shield the blinding light allowing her to see Ethan looking back at her.
God he’s good looking.
Why did he have to have a girlfriend? Better yet, why was he such an arrogant prick?
Emily spied her silver Audi two rows over from Ethan’s car. Pivoting on her heel, she began to walk away.

  “Well, Emily I would hate to know that your job was interfering with your big weekend plans,” he called after her. “Why don’t you meet me back here around seven and we’ll work on the infographics together?” 

  Emily’s blood sizzled in her veins. Shifting her gaze back to Ethan, she replied calmly, “Fine, Ethan, thank you for the help. I will see you at seven.”

Chapter Three:

Amanda

  Amanda Parsons had only been up for four hours and decided to finally shower. She was out partying the night before with her co-workers from The Bath Shop. They had completed the floor set by midnight and they were totally wired. Amanda was, of course, the one to suggest they hit the bars. Finishing her shower, she decided she would hit up her favorite designer discount boutique, My Sister’s Closet, and see if she could find some stylish clothes to sell in her eBay store. She had sixty dollars to her name at the moment and probably should not have been shopping, but she told herself she needed to go. Payday was tomorrow, so she felt she could make it until then with just a short money supply. Besides, if she absolutely needed the cash, she could always manipulate her roommate Daniel for Starbucks or a meal.