I arrived at my office this morning determined to make headway on the new ad campaign for our expansion launch in Europe. The sandal line that we were introducing over there wasn't really any different to what we were doing here, but Europe wasn't America, and I suspected that advertising needed subtle shifts to attract the European market. Not that we would do anything wild and crazy or outlandish. There were aspects to marketing that were tried and true no matter where in the world we were. If there's one thing that I was a stickler for it was staying with what worked. In my life, there were two things that worked; one, my job as the head of marketing director of Strong, Incorporated, and two, having a varied and diverse private life. In other words, I was fully committed to my job, but unapologetically uncommitted to women.
As I sat at my desk, I noticed an envelope in Strong business stationary. I opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. As I scanned it over, I got pissed.
Dear Mr. Strong,
It is with sincere regret that I must tender my resignation. As you know, my boyfriend, Michael proposed to me and we had every intention of staying in San Diego. But now we realize there's so much we would like to do together, and with our talents we can work remotely. We plan to be digital nomads, traveling around the world to the most romantic spots and enjoying our life to the fullest and in wedded bliss.
"Jesus fucking Christ." I crumpled up the letter. It was bad enough that I was losing my lead artist right when I needed her the most, but also to have her leave me with this bunch of saccharine bullshit made me want to throw up. Wedded bliss, my ass.
I had to be around all that romantic, schmaltzy bullshit with my brother Ryan and his new woman, Kellie. I didn't need it in my staff either. I liked Kellie and I was happy for Ryan, but somewhere deep inside I wondered if it would really last. In my experience, enduring love was a myth. The only exception was my father, but even his love for my mother held mythic properties. The perverse part of me believed his enduring love for my mother was a romantic notion because she had died and he never seemed to get over it. Would they still be together, living in wedded bliss, if she lived?
St
atistics said no. However, these were thoughts that I kept to myself because they were hurtful and insensitive, and made me look like a fucking asshole. I just wished everybody else who believed in love and fairytales would keep it out of my way, just like I kept my beliefs that true love didn’t exist out of their way.
There was a knock on the door and when it opened, Ryan popped his head in. "You got a minute?"
"Yeah, come on in." I tossed the crumpled up letter to the side knowing I was going to have to send it up to HR. They’d probably wonder why I wadded it up, but oh well.
Behind Ryan, his wife Kellie came in. Great. I could expect more schmaltzy lovey looks.
"I came by to talk to you about the marketing plans for Europe." Ryan offered a chair to Kellie. She sat and then he sat in the other chair in front of my desk.
"I brought you some pictures, too," Kellie said. She plopped a small stack of photos on my desk.
I reached over picking them up and going through them.
"They’re from the wedding. Some of them are of us, which you can gush over if you like." She gave me the smile as if she knew my personality. Of course, she did know my personality because she'd worked here for a long time. But now that she was married to my brother, I guess she felt like she could poke at me at my anti-love stance. Or maybe her friend and my grandmother's personal assistant, Andi, who was the queen of snark, was rubbing off on her. Either way, I didn't appreciate it.
"Plus, there's some of you and your date. I can't remember her name,” she finished.
"He probably doesn't either," Ryan quipped.
I remembered her name. Her first name anyway. I also remembered how I regretted bringing her as a plus one to my brother’s wedding in Thailand. I'd broken my one night only rule so that I could have a ready and willing woman with me during our stay there. But, of course, as often happened, when she got a taste of the lavish life that the Strong family offered, she wanted to hold onto it when I was ready to let her go on our arrival back to San Diego. It was a reminder that I had rules for a reason. One woman one night. That's it.
"You two stop trying to sell all this love-crap, and I'll stop reminding you all that it’s a bunch of bullshit. Love and marriage is for suckers."
Kellie’s brows arched in surprise.
Ryan had a single brow that rose. "Careful Hunter. You are precariously close to offending my wife."
I looked at Kellie and tried to be apologetic. "Sorry."
"Falling in love can be scary. It's definitely a vulnerable feeling, which I guess is similar to feeling duped or being suckered. But it is so worth it." Kellie grinned at my brother. He reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze.
I rolled my eyes. "You guys should go get a room."
"Good idea. But first, what's up with the marketing deal?" he asked.
I sighed and picked up the crumpled letter. "Liz quit. She's like you - getting married and going off to living in wedded bliss in Fiji or something. That’s actually what her resignation says. Wedded bliss." I tossed the letter aside with disgust wondering if I could write her a not-so-glowing recommendation based on her use of “wedded bliss.”
"Is it the wedded bliss that pisses you off, or the fact that she's quit?" Ryan asked.
"Both."
"You’ve got a whole team of people, Hunter, surely some of them will be able to come up with something. But it had to be good. The best work you’ve done."
I looked over at Ryan wishing I was ten and could punch him. "You know you’re not the boss of me, right? We are all equal in this company. I know how to do my job."