Creed's Expectations Page 6

  My confusion also lay in my position. They were offering me an Account Manager position. I worried that she dialed me by accident because my resume didn’t scream manager anything. But she seemed to think she had the right person, so I continued to go along with it. She went on, telling me that they were eager to have me on board and would accept the salary offer I demanded. That was super awesome and all, but what did I know about salary? Technically, this was going to be my first job. What was minimum wage nowadays? I got so flustered, giving Amy the crazy eyes, visually screaming at her for help.

  “Thirty Thousand?” I mouth and she shakes her head like I’m crazy. With my thumb, I give her an up or down sign. She returns with an up. “Thirty-five?” Another head shake accompanied by a lengthy grunt. Well shit, she should really just tell me a number.

  Seventy-five, she mouths.

  “Seventy-Five?” I wail out loud. She must be crazy if she thinks anyone is going to pay me—

  “We can settle on seventy-five, Ms. Bishop.”

  And just like that, she took the price I spit out, before continuing right along to my moving expenses and lease information. It was like an out of body experience, watching myself agree to all this insanity. The company was located in Seattle, which was close to six hours away from Spokane. Accepting this job meant packing up my life and moving to an unknown town, where I wouldn’t know anyone. The color was draining quickly from my face as Virginia discussed moving times, covered expenses, and my new living arrangement. It was as if I was waiting for her to give me my new name and identity next. Amy sat in front of me, offering me her reassuring smile. She Googled the address of the apartment they would be placing me in and gasped loud enough for Idaho to hear. She flipped her tablet to show me while Virginia was still yapping about parking expenses, then I gasped. Holy shit, how is this for real? It was then I had to stop Virginia and confirm she meant to call me, as in Kasey Bishop, and not someone else. It was confirmed she meant me. Okay then.

  As she gave me the remainder of the information I’d need, I gave my acceptance to her offer right over the phone, and that was that. She told me she would see me at work in exactly one week.

  I sat on the bed in shock for about five minutes. That’s until Amy slapped me. I know, sounds super mean, but I needed it. I thanked her, she nodded, and then we both started screaming. I had a job. I had a very promising job. I had a job that was going to pay me a lot of flipping money! We found ourselves bouncing up and down, screaming like school girls until we wore ourselves out and my cheers turned into fears. I started to cry. What did I just agree to? I wasn’t an independent, go with the flow, kind of girl. I was the one who still needed the buddy system when going pee. I still make my dad take my car for oil changes and my mom still sews up the holes in all my jeans when I trip over my own two feet on a daily basis.

  God, how was I ever married?

  Okay no one answer that.

  Because no one considers that mess a real marriage.

  I took the week to pull myself together. I took my car to my dad so he could get it a tune-up. Had my mom patch up any holes and press any clothes that could be considered work appropriate. As proud of me as my mom was, she cried because I was moving so far away. I joined in on the tears because even I couldn’t believe it. Seattle was a big place. Per Amy and my research, Seattle had minimal crime, so that was a plus. My apartment building was under a mile from my office, therefore I could easily walk back and forth, eliminating any issues with parking.

  Amy helped me pack my things, and also offered to lend me some of her business casual clothes. She told me I could keep the outfit she lent me for the job fair, which I sweated that one out, thanking her. Because in reality, she wasn’t getting that back even if she wanted to. Well, not unless she wanted it back in pieces.

  Speaking of that night, I decided I was never going to mention it to Amy. I chose not to mention it at all. I just didn’t think it was necessary. The, “Oh, and while I was there I had super raunchy sex with my ex’s brother,” just never felt right coming out of my mouth. I blamed the one mark she did spot on my neck on a curling-iron accident. Oldest lie in the book, I know, but let’s be honest, she wasn’t going to think I was lying and playing hussy for hire, resulting in the mark. Nope. She took the lie and moved on.

  On the day I left, we both cried. She was my closest friend and has been there for me through thick and thin. I couldn’t believe I was taking such a huge step in my life and she wasn’t going to be there for me. Well, she would, but miles away, and in the form of Skype, Snapchat, and Facebook messaging. She did leave me with a parting gift, which was half a trunk worth of cereal boxes. She told me that if I ever got homesick just to crack open a box. I was so touched by her kindness, I started to cry harder. Because who the hell was going to spoon feed me?

  In the end, she pushed me out the door and I was on my way. A playlist for the trip, my GPS giving me my new destination and I was headed towards my new life.

  Until now.

  When my tire blew.

  And a truck driver assaulted me with his cup of his… excretions. Gag.

  “And this is the copy room. Use your badge to gain access. All machines are on a wireless system. Print from your computer and swipe. You will need your key to get to floors…” Virginia continues to point at open doors, people, and equipment. I smile at my new work comrades, who just stare back with their blank faces before turning back to their computers.

  “And this is your office.” She halts, standing in a doorway to an office, allowing me to enter. The room is about the size of Amy’s whole apartment.. An oak desk sits in the back with two chairs and an end table, sure enough holding a coffee maker. Shame covers my face as I turn to Virginia. “Again, I’m sorry about the silly demands, I just didn’t know—”

  “Don’t fret. It was an easy request. Now, your laptop is on your desk. It’s been formatted specifically for you. I’ve set up your Outlook calendar for all your upcoming meetings and make sure to check the project list. That’s where you’ll start.”

  I stare at the desk, still in shock I’m here and in my own office. Amy has been working at her marketing firm for three years now, and she’s still in a cubicle smaller than her pantry. I nod to Virginia and she leaves me to get settled. I place my things on the seat in front of my desk and sit in my new chair.

  “Is this really happening to me?” I mutter to myself as I lift the top of my new laptop. A beautiful landscape pops up on the screen. It immediately asks me for a username and password. “Well, having that would be nice—”

  “It’s your last name, and your hire date is your password.”

  I lift my head to glance at the doorway. A tall, kind of cute, gentleman with wavy blonde hair and an expensive suit, stands in my doorway, his hands across his lean chest. Nodding, I type in the information, and surprisingly it allows me access.

  “Wow, thanks.”

  “No problem. Virginia can leave out the important details sometimes. Todd Hanson, COO.” He walks further into my office and I stand to greet him. I stick my hand out and we shake, him holding mine a bit longer than would be expected. Finally releasing me, he casually places his hands into his pants pockets, staring at me, waiting for something.

  Oh.

  Oh!

  “Sorry, hi. I’m Kasey Bishop. Account Manager. Newbie.” I return his smile, mine more awkwardly. And why did I just call myself newbie?

  A charming grin stretches across his handsome features. “Well if it helps, we have a new hire starting tomorrow as well, so you’ll officially be the newbie for only another twenty-three hours. Then you can join the other side in hazing the newest newbie.”

  I stare at him in horror. Oh, my God, I’m going to get hazed today? His laughter fills the room as I panic. “I’m messing with you, Kasey. Hazing is definitely frowned upon here.”

  Oh.

  “I just fell for that, didn’t I?”

  “You did. But it’s okay.” He takes a
step closer to me. “How about I let you use that line on the new hire tomorrow for retribution.”

  His humor allows my tension to dissipate and I join in on the fun. I laugh along with him, feeling less nervous. I use a moment to take him in. He sure is handsome, with that sharp business persona to him. He radiates confidence, that’s for certain. Someone who doesn’t need to ever feel nervous or insecure. It’s obvious he knows he’s good-looking and, going by his job title, quite successful. I’m not one-hundred-percent sold on the way he continues to look at me. As if, if I let my guard down for a just a smidge, he would attempt to eat me alive. Maybe it’s the newbie intimidation, but whatever it is, it’s working. I blink, unable to allow our eyes to connect any longer and pull my vision to anything but him.

  “Well, I should probably get my calendar up and running. Virginia sounded like I already had a busy schedule.” I turn, making my way back to my desk, and feel his eyes on me.

  “Well, it’s your lucky day because I’m here to assist you.” Strangely, I squeeze my eyes shut, a silent curse leaving my lips. Why couldn’t Virginia assist me? Why does it have to be the hot office guy?

  Turning back, “Oh that’s great. Not that it’s going to be a pleasure trying to teach me. I’m kind of new at all this.”

  He walks to me, the space between us minimal. I almost step back but stop myself. The office isn’t small by any means, but his intimidating frame dominates the room. He leans down so we’re at eye level and says, “The pleasure will be all mine.”

  Gulp.

  Todd Hanson, Chief Operating Officer, has worked at Roe Inc. since it opened and pretty much runs this location. I learned there are two other locations, one on the other end of town and one other in Los Angeles. The CEO barely shows his face, and I’ll probably never meet him, so if I ever needed anything, I was to go through Todd, AKA my new boss. I learned that I would be working under him. My job was to coordinate meetings, handle sales contracts, and manage the relationships with their clients. It sounded pretty simple until he took me into the boardroom and walked me through all the scheduling and the client list, ranging from small to ‘I probably shouldn’t even be talking to someone so elite.’

  I was to read over contracts, check for misspellings or wrong calculations. At that part, I raised my hand to warn him I wasn’t that great with math, but when I did, it hiked up my blouse, exposing a small patch of skin. At the way Todd’s eyes darkened, I quickly put my hand down and started pretending to take notes. I would get the hang of it, I told myself. Relearning math sounded better than dealing with the wrath of Todd. And it’s not that it was a bad wrath. He seemed really nice. Patient. But a girl has instincts and this guy… he just had a tick to him. Something wasn’t right.

  But then again, who am I to judge? I’ve known him less than a day. And let’s not even bring up my track record with men. Okay, so shame on me. Todd is a nice guy and I’m just a judging bitch.

  Moving on.

  At lunchtime, he had Virginia cater us in sandwiches from a local deli. This would be a place I will be calling frequently when they had clients in for meetings. Noted. The afternoon was spent going through names I needed to know. Clients who I should offer the shirt on my back if asked, and ones who I can bill their lunch back to their office.

  Virginia wasn’t lying when she said I had a busy schedule. Todd walked me through my first week and it seemed I would barely fit in a bathroom break, let alone lunch. Thankfully, I was eager to succeed, so food and peeing would have to be knocked down on my priority list of daily needs.

  I finished up Monday and got right into Tuesday. Same as the day before, training on clients, working with Todd on reviewing contracts and sorting. Lots and lots of sorting. Roe Inc. had a huge staff of land surveyors whose only job was to scout local businesses and report back with the economical and geographic configurations. Was the company doing well? Was the location a factor for failure/success? Were they willing to sell? And if not, what would it take to sell. See, the interesting thing I learned on day two, was that Roe Inc. wasn’t just sought after by failing companies; Roe Inc. sought after businesses they felt, if acquired, could turn around and make a substantial profit.

  Were all companies willing to sell? Per some contracts I read over during my lunch on Wednesday, while peeing, it looked like some were given quite the severance for selling. To the company, they made off. But flip back to the end of the contract, where the resell figures are stapled, and that company just got a tiny pile of what their company’s potential was truly worth.

  Was Roe Inc. stealing? Not at all. These businesses were failing because they weren’t running it the right way. That’s where Roe Inc. steps in. They know the market, have the geographic expertise, and anything you need to know to make a company truly tick. And apparently, the head honcho - the faceless, nameless boss - is the one with all the answers.

  While filing some of the blueprints left by a surveyor on Thursday, Todd had gotten a bit, shall we say, too friendly. He sat next to me pointing out what they look for in plots of land. As one hand pointed to surveyor lines, his other drifted onto my thigh. It startled me, my natural reaction to spaz out. My leg jumped up, and my thigh slammed into the bottom of the table, knocking the table and smashing his hand in between in the process. Thankfully, after that embarrassing moment, he told me to continue what I was doing and left for a meeting. This left me sitting there staring at the large print, trying to figure out how to handle this situation.

  He was my boss. Not the boss, but the one I report to. He’s super nice, funny, and way too attractive to be my boss. But he also crossed a line. At first, the harmless flirting didn’t bother me, but the moment he added touching into the mix, it was time to raise that red flag.

  Maybe I was just being paranoid. He’s way too hot to be interested in someone like me. He’s still your boss. True, self. Very true. I wanted to say something, but I also didn’t want to lose my job. What if this is all in my head? What if he dropped his pen and his hand slipped and I just freaked out? You’re not dumb, Kasey. Also true.

  I chose to brush it off. Give it another week and then maybe I would just mention that I had a boyfriend or something. Maybe he would back off. I managed to get through Friday, with hardly any interaction from him. Virginia told me he was in meetings all day and if I needed anything to come to her. She did also mention that in the future I would be in a lot of those meetings with him, so it was smart to bring home the client files on the weekends to study. Great, along with eating and peeing, I can cross weekends off my list, too.

  Heading out, I catch his eye as I pass by the boardroom. I wave as he busies himself shaking hands with a client. Once I’m out of sight, I book it to the elevator before he can catch me. Stepping out into the fresh air, I inhale a gigantic breath. I made it through my first week of work. Yes! I do a little skip as I make my way down the busy Seattle sidewalk.

  I have to admit, this career stuff is pretty cool, the feeling of accomplishment causing my chest to puff out with pride. Well, until some pedestrian slams into me, walking the opposite direction, knocking the wind out of me.

  “Watch it, lady!” he yells, continuing on his brisk journey, hopefully to hell. I wave because I haven’t grown the balls yet to offer the finger, and continue on my walk towards my apartment building. Before I head home, I stop at the one place I’ve been ogling each morning and evening.

  Cork Wine Studio and Café.

  The cutest little café that’s pleasantly placed in between work and home. I forced myself all week to walk past and not go in. I knew if I did, I would never make it to work or home. I mean a café that sells wine and fancy cheeses and pastries and coffee, and did I mention wine? It’s like my utopia. I also knew if I went in, I would find myself applying there for a job, simply for the discount, and the whole purpose of uprooting my life would have been for nothing. Not that a discount on wine and cheese is nothing. But since it’s Friday, I’m going in. And I plan on trying everything o
n the menu until I’m warm in the face and full in the belly.

  I step inside and the moment I do, my eyes close as the smells make their way into my nostrils. I sigh. Heaven. Simply heaven. I could stand here forever taking in the glorious smells of fresh baked goods while listening to the sounds of corks being—

  Ooof!

  Okay, so maybe not.

  I’m interrupted by a patron, pushing through me to get inside. “Sorry,” I try to apologize, but they’re already in front of me, placing their order.

  So there.

  Keeping my eyes open this time, I stare at the menu, trying to decide what to order first. The charcuterie platter has my eyes, but so does the soft cheese sample platter and the French tart platter. If I wanted to go with a nice red wine, it says to pair it with the—

  “I would recommend the pinot noir with the Italian meat and cheese platter,” a deep voice assaults my earlobe. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at the familiar voice. No flipping way. My body fights not to turn around, but curiosity… cat… you know. So I do. I turn, the scent I remember making its way into my nose, my body creating a layer of goosebumps across my skin. My head rises to make eye contact with him, the look in his eyes just as I remember.

  Dark.

  Calculating.

  Dangerous.

  “What… how… what are you doing here?”

  “I can ask you the same question,” Creed replies, hovering over me. He doesn’t wear a smile, his expression blank as he takes me in. His rich suit, not a crease in sight, falls perfectly over his broad shoulders, tight in his chest area, his crisp white shirt lacking closure around his muscled neck.