A Workplace Affair (2 page)

“Good,” he has gone back to reading his e-mails, “I want you to go over personally and make sure the room is up to standard. Take the Spivey documents over and leave them for him to look over, and buy a bottle Jack Daniels for his room.”

“Yes sir.” We talk a little longer about his schedule and he reminds me to be at work early on Monday. I get back to my desk and get to work. Being Friday, I don’t have much to do, so around 4 o’clock, I head over to Prestige Atlanta, the newest hotel investment in United Real Estate Investments’ portfolio. Everyone here is dressed in black and white, the lobby floors gleam in all their polished marble glory, and the soft gold walls and luxurious silk upholstered sofas make you never want to leave. I approach the young man at the front desk and his warm smile stands out among the bored looking workers around him.

“I’m checking in for Leland Ambrose.” I place the company credit card on the counter along with my license.  Carter, according to his name tag, picks them up and his smile grows.

“Honey, you have got to be the most beautiful woman to grace my counter!” He’s examining my license photo and has his left hand over his chest, “If I liked women baby, I’d be all over you, instead I’ll just admire from afar.” This is said with a wink as he begins quickly punching the keys on his computer. “Here you go boo, suite 1200” he says sliding the electronic key card over along with my cards. Still slightly amused by his obvious flamboyance, I wink back and thank him before heading to the bank of elevators to my right. The inside of the elevator is glass and it begins its ascent to the twelfth floor. I am treated to a beautiful view of the Atlanta skyline. Traffic is just beginning. On my left, I can see the gold top of the capital building. To my right off in the distance, I can see Turner Stadium. The Braves obviously play tonight, because the parking lot is slowly filling with tailgaters.

The elevator stops, halting my time alone with the view, I’m confused for a second, the doors are staying tightly shut. Just as panic begins to set in, I notice a slot below the buttons for the floors with a picture of the electronic room key. I slide the key into the slot and breathe a sigh of relief as the doors easily slide open. The presidential suite, which occupies the entire top two floors of the hotel, is decorated in the same gold tones used in the lobby, but with beautiful accents of turquoise splashed around. The elevator opens up to the living room, which is furnished with plush gold sofas accented by turquoise pillows. A beautiful mahogany bar sits off to the left with turquoise and gold tumblers on top, and a black piano occupies the space to the right. Beyond the bar there is a wall of large windows, a panel behind the bar slides open the barely noticeable glass doors leading onto the balcony and the infinity edge hot tub and lap pool. To the right of the doors stands a spiral staircase leading to the bedroom of the suite.

I cross to the bar and place the Jack Daniels there along with the files for his review. I make the climb to the second floor and cross the plush white carpet to the closet. Mr. Ambrose’s clothes have been sent ahead and are hanging there. I take a moment to appreciate the fine quality of his Italian suits and the rich fabrics of his shirts. In the center of the large closet, and by large I mean the size of my living room, there is a round silk covered bench along with a cabinet that comes about chest high to my five feet nine inches. Hung inside one side of the cabinet are some of the most beautiful ties I’ve ever seen. The small drawer at the top of the same side is filled with watches, rings, and various styles of cufflinks. The opposite side of the cabinet is empty, seemingly waiting for a woman’s belongings. I love my life, but part of me imagines what it would be like to travel and stay in rooms like this one. I break the daydream and finish my walk through of the suite. Taking a moment in the bathroom I note that my hair has misbehaved as usual, the curls have fallen and my hair is straight as an arrow once again. I head back down to the lobby and leave the key for Mr. Ambrose before heading into the heart of Atlanta to meet my friends.

Chapter 2

Horse of a Different Color is a little dive bar located at the back of Underground Atlanta. The lighting sucks, the drinks are cheap, and the entertainment is free. Every Friday night, they have karaoke and once a month I meet my two best friends there for some good drinks and bad singing. Walking into the bar I scan the room. Finally, I spot Sage and make my way through the growing crowd to the table she’s chosen. As always, Sage looks amazing in a curve hugging black dress and red heels. At five foot three, the four inch heels still don’t make her as tall as me, but at least I don’t feel quite so tall around her tonight. I’ve always been a little jealous of her catlike green eyes and fiery red curls. Sage was born in Ireland and is a stark contrast to my olive complexion, dark hair, and hazel eyes. For the last three years Sage has worked hard to rebuild her life, and I’ve been there every step of the way. We balance each other out, and I don’t know what I’d do without her.

“Hey, sexy lady!” I have to raise my voice a little so she can hear me.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here!” Leaning in she grabs me in a hug, “Nick is running a little late.” We both laugh at the shared joke. Nick is Nick McCoy. We met through an online dating site, and after three dates we decided we were better as friends. Now, three years later, we share everything; he helps me with guy problems and vice versa. Nick is never on time to anything. If we want him there at six, we tell him to meet us at four. That way, he stands a decent chance of being on time. As I take my seat, a waiter comes and takes my order. Five minutes later my pitcher of beer arrives along with the burger I had ordered. I skipped lunch so I figure I’m allowed to eat greasy bacon cheesy goodness.

“Don’t judge me!” I say with a grin as Sage eyes me and burger with jealousy in her eyes. With a shrug she reaches over and snags a fry. About that time Nick walks in, grabs the karaoke song book and heads over to the table.

“So, I was thinking that tonight we could sing “Forget You” only I’m going to sing it the right way!” As Nick flips through the binder to get the song information, Sage and I share an eye roll. That song choice could only mean one thing; Nick and his latest girlfriend have broken up. I signal to our waiter to bring a round of red snappers to the table. The song binder keeps him distracted long enough for the shots to arrive, before I can pass one to him he picks up two of them takes them back to back.

“Guess we’re going to need a few more of those.” Handing the waiter my card to start a tab, I turn back to Nick.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The look in his eyes tells me to take a shot, because tonight I will be singing a lot. I love to sing. I don’t however love to sing in front of people, funny thing stage fright. We always pick one song to sing as a group and usually that’s as far as it goes, but tonight was going to be about cheering Nick up, which meant a lot of stage time. The next round of shots arrives and I take mine before Nick has a chance to steal it. Around the time my pitcher is half full, the announcer calls our names, it’s time to perform. My legs are just numb enough from the alcohol so that they don’t shake as I step up on stage.

Chapter 3

Claiming a seat at the bar Leland had just enough time to order a drink before the next singers took the stage. The emcee had announced that the song would be “Forget You”, a song that weighed heavily on his nerves. He settled in and prepared to suffer through what promised to be the most painful version of the song. First to the stage was an attractive little redhead, Leland appreciated the view of her backside in the tight black dress as a man joined her on stage. The woman turned and started waving for someone else to join them, oh great, three horrible voices to massacre an already irritating song. The woman who joined them on stage made his glass pause on the way to his mouth. She was beautiful, her cheeks were slightly flushed from alcohol and her eyes shone bright in contrast to her dark hair that fell straight and long down her back. Clearly she was the most nervous of the three. He thanked God that he at least had some visual entertainment, and found himself disappointed when the song ended and the trio departed the stage. He followed her movement to the left of the stage but lost them in the crowd. He made a mental note to find her table.

As the night went on, the beautiful brunette and her friends took the stage at least five more times, each time singing songs about broken hearts and revenge, with the exception of “Wanna Be” by the Spice Girls. Each time they took the stage their level of intoxication visibly increased, and each time she got sexier. As they departed the stage the emcee announced last call, it was almost 2 am. Cursing, he signaled the bartender and paid his tab. He would have to leave it up to chance if he saw her again, he had an early morning breakfast date with his mother. Leaving the bar, he caught a cab back to the hotel, and passed out on the sofa.

Chapter 4

After we leave the bar, we grab a taxi and head back to my house to crash. Nick passes out on the sofa, and Sage and I help each other up the stairs and into my bed. We fall asleep quickly and wake up Saturday with horrible hangovers. Heading downstairs, I search for some Advil in my kitchen.

“Morning.” I almost jump out of my skin, when Nick steps in the doorway.

“Ugh.” I can’t manage much of a response until I find Advil and coffee. Sage shuffles in and takes care of the second one while I continue my search for headache relief. Finally finding some in the back of my cabinet I take a seat at the breakfast bar and wait for the coffee to finish brewing. “So Nick, you going to tell us what happened?” Sage and I both knew that something was wrong with him last night, but neither of us wanted to push him so soon. Now that he’s had at least twelve hours to deal with it, we are ready for some answers.

“Shayla broke up with me before work yesterday.” Figures, I never liked her to begin with. “Then, when I got to work, I could tell something was going on, but couldn’t figure it out. Just as I’m about to leave for the day my boss called me into his office and let me go.” Damn, didn’t see that one coming.

“Ok, so today is about you then, what do you want to do?”

“I know! He’s going to spend the day cuddled up between two sexy bitches and watch action movies all day.” Leave it to Sage to come up with Nick’s idea of a perfect day.

“Sounds good to me.” Nick smiles for the first time since arriving at the bar.

“I’ll make the popcorn.” Nick and Sage leave me in the kitchen, and as they walk away I laugh at how perfect we all are for each other.

Monday morning came faster than usual, but I had a great weekend with my friends. Saturday night and most of Sunday was spent watching movies and the three of us cuddling on the sofa. Now, as my alarm sounded the arrival of Monday morning, I desperately yearned for a shower. Starting the shower, I pick out business clothes for the boss’s first day in the Atlanta office. I have no intentions of flaunting myself for him, but I definitely want to make a good impression. My shower feels so good that I take a little longer than necessary under its warm spray. Luckily I have given myself plenty of time this morning to get ready for work.

At the office everyone was in a fuss. Women who normally dress in drab colors seem to have gone out and bought brand new outfits trying to outdo each other. The boardroom is set up with an assortment of pastries, fruits, bagels and muffins. Coffee, juices, and water are set up along the wall. My morning starts off by picking up presentation folders, answering e-mails, and placing a folder at each chair for the meeting. Around nine, Mr. Marks calls me into his office.

“You’ve been working for me for a while now, and you’ve proven to be very knowledgeable in this business. You work hard, you’re never late, and you pay attention. I’d like to invite you to sit in on the meeting today.” He catches me off guard with his invitation.

“I’d love to!” I guess my excitement was a little obvious, because he quickly corrected me.

“In a secretarial capacity, of course. I want you to take notes during the meeting so I can review them afterward.” Well it is not what I was hoping for, but at least it is a start. One day I’ll have a chance to prove that I am more valuable than as a secretary.

The meeting is set for ten o’clock so I take the time to read over the presentation packet and familiarize myself with the contents. The more prior knowledge I have, the more detailed notes I can take. Mr. Marks comes out of his office at 9:45 and signals for me to walk with him to the meeting; I take my place and wait for the meeting to start. As more people start filing in, I realize that I am the only secretary in attendance. At 9:59, Leland Ambrose walks through the door, my God he is beautiful. Beautiful, and I’m certain, arrogant, shallow, and vain. He catches my eye and his crystal blue eyes appear to be looking right through me. I smile at him politely, he hesitates and then shakes his head as if confused.

He takes his place at the head of the table and takes a look through the packet while everyone prepares for the presentation. As Mr. Marks stands to make his portion of the speeches, I swear I see Mr. Ambrose look right at me, brushing it off I give my attention back to Mr. Marks. His speech takes about twenty minutes and is straight to the point, the facts are clear and Mr. Ambrose looks as if he agrees. Next up is the new executive from accounting, Mrs. Stratford. Her speech drags on for forty minutes, during which time, I feel Mr. Ambrose’s eyes burning into me. I do my best to ignore the nerves I feel as his keep returning to me, but I can feel the flush rising to my cheeks. The meeting goes on with an endless stream of executive and executive wannabes, but each time a speech gets boring I can look over and make eye contact with those piercing blue eyes. Finally, the meeting comes to an end and I feel relief when I escape his searching gaze, it’s almost as if he was trying to connect my face to one in his memory.

Mr. Marks gives me ten minutes to get my notes in order before asking me into his office for a review. We go over the financial benefits of the investment into small local businesses verses the benefits of re-purposing the spaces for development. Near the end of our meeting there is knock on the door, Mr. Ambrose pushes the door open and stops short.