I welcome the solitude.
In fact, I crave it.
Alone, on the couch, I lay awake for the second night in a row. My hands carelessly wander to my stomach. It will only be a matter of time until the charade is up and everyone, including Haden, will find out.
And that will soon become a cold, harsh reality.
Eight
Haden
I have spent a good part of the last two weeks traveling.
The flying has become tedious, so I find myself staying days on end to fast track the transition of Indie Press.
The Fairmont is a nice place to crash at night, everything you could ask for from a five-star hotel, but I miss Presley and Masen. It isn’t the same, and it only pushes me to work harder so I won’t need to fly up anymore.
“I apologize for the delay in your travels down to LA,” I tell Cassandra, the Chief Editor, as we sit in her small office. My eyes wander around the room taking note of what appears to be expensive furnishings. The rent on this place is well over budget. I make a mental note to review this immediately.
“Our Editor-in-Chief, Presley, is inundated with work since we had a team member resign, and she is working on a new project with an extremely tight deadline.”
Cassandra’s stern gaze shifts toward her computer. For a chick digging chicks, she’s quite attractive, dressed rather feminine in a burgundy blazer and matching pants. Not like Presley’s sister, Gem, who thinks skater clothes are back in fashion.
“Just notify my assistant, and she can rearrange my schedule.”
“About your assistant,” I begin, stalling as I try to articulate the correct words. “Quite a high salary for someone out of college.”
She bunches her hands into her fist, pressing them on the table.
“Mr. Cooper, with all due respect, my staff has been carefully chosen amongst many who have applied for positions at Indie Press. Liesel had been with our company for over twelve months and has proven herself to be an asset. It would be a great loss to lose such talent.”
I’m bored by her undermining tone. Who the fuck does she think she is to question my judgment? Lucky for me, I call the shots, and Liesel will soon be out. Not even Presley or I have a personal assistant. Our structure is to create a solid team, everyone knows their responsibilities and no one, and I mean no one, slacks off under my watch.
“She’s a personal assistant. Not much to it, if you ask me. You either find her a role with less pay or she’s out.”
“Are you seriously asking me to create a role with less salary?”
“Well, you’re the one who wants to keep her. It would be naïve of you to think we can retain all the staff. We may be growing, but with that comes careful budgeting. We must spend money where it’s most profitable. Your assistant fetching your coffee and scheduling appointments is hardly worth the dollars.” I stand up, grabbing my phone. “Are we clear?”
She takes a deep breath, then meets my gaze. “Yes, Mr. Cooper.”
I am beyond ready to head home, checking my watch to make sure I can make my flight.
By the time I land back at LAX, it is just after eight. The traffic will have eased slightly, but it will still be another hour before I step foot inside my house.
Presley doesn’t complain, nor say a word about my traveling. She has been quiet of late, unopinionated, and not her usual feisty self. When I try to ask her what’s wrong, she simply tells me she is busy with work, and that’s it.
I don’t blame her as I feel the same way. We are growing too fast but can’t swing extra headcount in our budget. Marshall is relentless in his pursuit of making us the number one publishing house on the West Coast. Between him and Lex, the two of them are pushing me beyond my limits.
My Bluetooth lights up, prompting me of an incoming
call.
“Cooper here,” I answer, exhausted.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Cooper.”
The voice, while familiar, comes from an unknown number.