Sloan stays on my mind as the weekend rolls in.
It’s not smart.
By Saturday night, I’m thinking about her way more than enjoying my downtime. What is she doing? Who is she with? What would she do if I called? Any chance she’s thinking of me?
My head is fucked up. I need to shut that down.
I hit some of the hotel bars, convinced that if I don’t wake up alone on Sunday, I’ll be able to approach Sloan on Monday with a fresh, less fixated head. Despite three tourist traps and a couple of flirty conversations, I can’t get interested enough to leave with a warm body. The women I meet are pretty, yes. Sexy, totally. Ready to go to bed with me after a few minutes of meaningless talk, apparently. But none of them are clever, compelling, or driven. They’re self-absorbed. Finding their happiness seems like their only purpose in life. Sloan, like me, thinks bigger. We have goals.
Or hell, maybe I’m overanalyzing. I didn’t meet anyone who flipped my switch. It happens. I was in the mood for a redhead and I didn’t find one, so I left. End of story.
Why is a redhead suddenly at the top of your must-do list?
I’m not analyzing that.
Monday I stare at my phone, willing it to ring. It doesn’t. As the hours slip by, my thoughts slide off the rails. Is Sloan still working on her organizational mystery? Or is she avoiding me for some other reason?
As I’m leaving Evan’s office around three p.m., following an advertising-strategy and budget meeting, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I pull it free. Sloan. She’s calling me at eight o’clock in her evening.
“Hey,” I greet. “I wondered if I’d hear from you. How was your Monday?”
“Thank god you answered. It was horrible. I waited to talk to you until I got home. I know it’s late in Phoenix, but…do you have a minute?”
“For you? Of course. Make any progress on our mystery?”
“Yes and no. I’m not sure how to interpret everything that happened today. Granted, I haven’t worked here forever, so I don’t know everything about this place, but I’ve never seen behavior like this.”
“Like what?”
“This morning, I called my boss. I thought it made sense to question him first. I know him best, and he’s usually easy to talk to. He should be able to tell me what he knows about the FY Initiative on his books, right?”
“Natural assumption.”
“He didn’t want to talk about it. At all. He insisted it’s a secret project he’s undertaken at Shane’s behest and that he’s not at liberty to say more. When I pointed out that we’re hemorrhaging money and this initiative should really have been given more scrutiny before being green-lighted, he snapped at me. I’ve worked for him for nearly two years. He’s never, ever been short with anyone.”
“So…what are you thinking?”
“The same thing you are. It’s sketchy.”
“But you can’t prove it.”
“No. And even if I could, who could I tell with enough organizational power to do something?”
Her father. But maybe she doesn’t because they’re not close. Or because he’s got health problems. Whatever the reason, it’s obvious she’s frustrated and isn’t sure where to turn. “What did you do next?”
“Probably something I shouldn’t have. I called Mario Perez, the head of Finance, and asked him about his fund. He hemmed and hawed about its purpose, underscoring a need for secrecy because—get this—it supposedly has something to do with a new product we’re bringing to market. Then he seemingly remembered he was talking to the woman responsible for the day-to-day administration of said products, and suddenly he was way too busy to answer my questions. So he hung up.”
“What the hell? Smith and Perez sound as if they have something to hide.”
“My thoughts, too. I called Brenda Keller, VP of the Management team, next. She had surgery at the end of December and was out recovering until three weeks ago, so she said she knows nothing. And maybe she doesn’t. The guy who filled her chair while she was out quit the day she returned. Or got fired, depending on who you ask. But either way, he’s not around for me to question.”
“Clearly. Do you think there’s any way the VP of Management hasn’t figured out what’s up with her budget in the last few weeks?”
“No. After that, I gave in and called Meredith Roop, who heads HR.”
“Gave in, huh? You two don’t get along?”