“Yes, Ms. Lee. I have important family properties I need to tend to immediately.”
“Right away. Will that be all?” Her eyes glance at the door, and I feel as though I’ve trapped her, like she’s been wanting to leave this entire time. Kind of a kick in the balls, even though it shouldn’t be because she’s my employee, and I couldn’t possibly have any reason to feel hurt by her indifference.
“Yes, love, that’ll be it,” I say as if it’s an insult, grinning when I catch her cheeks growing pink. She wordlessly turns to the door, stopping for a second as if she’s about to say something but decides against it and proceeds out the door.
Why did she seem so pissed at me? I wasn't being that big of a dick. I fucking had someone take care of her dog while I took care of her last night. Or did she forget how good I was? I certainly didn't forget how good she was. Fuck, not again. What had I done to tick her off? I take a sip of my coffee and a bite of my usual donut, continuing to prod at the question until I reach a conclusion that’s suitable for many occasions–I should stop caring and move the fuck on.
That’s better.I gulp down another sip of coffee before reaching over to my drawer for today’s paperwork.
Just as I begin looking through it to prepare for my meeting, I receive a text from Lee. “The Kane woman is definitely up to something. Gonna have some of the boys follow her for a bit. Keep you posted.” I shift my jaw. So Ms. Lee was right about my brush with death. I can’t say I’m surprised.
Here I am, unsuccessfully thinking about her again. Though I try to avoid it, it’s as if she’s connected to every one of my thoughts. This trip to Rome is just what I need to forget about the worst drunken mistake I've had since college. I grit my teeth and flip through my documents, familiarizing myself with them, so nothing will catch me off guard. When I’m confident in my knowledge and selling tactics, I proceed five minutes early to the conference room down the hall, making sure to avoid Ms. Lee’s desk on the way.
I do not need another one of my thoughts trailing away to fantasyland about Ms. Lee’s naked body. I realize as I’m avoiding this thought, I'm also thinking about it at the same time, and it makes me irritable. Everything has to fall into place just right for this meeting to go without a hitch, and that doesn’t include thinking about Ms. Lee.
—
The conference was a perfect success. Our clients were more than ready to commit to the next stage of Neptune Holding’s community service outreach program by the end, and I’m pleased with the outcome of their willingness. They were tardy, and though I always loathe that characteristic, it became my advantage. I was more prepared for their questions of opposition and, as a result, was able to close the deal in less than an hour. In record time, I might add.
The only frustrating part was the walk back to my office. When I went back to my office, I accidentally passed Ms. Lee’s empty desk. Not only did it cause another round of snapshots from last night, but it annoyed me that she was gone. It had to have been her lunchtime, but she rarely leaves the office to eat out. I tried not to let that thought simmer too long. Another unnecessary worry. I work through the pile that has somehow grown taller on the far side of my desk as I wait for details on my travel from Ms. Lee. There’s a knock at my door just after noon.
“Come in,” I call, and the door creaks open. I look up to see Ms. Lee standing nervously in the doorframe.
“Yes?” I watch as she closes the door, tapping the back of my pen on the packet I was reading before she came.
“Um. Well,” I try not to, but I'm slowly blinking at her as she fumbles through her words. I’m rather impatient when people don’t just spit out what they’re trying to say. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat.
“I think I should go with you.” I press my lips together in question, because surely she has some sort of explanation. She notices this look and proceeds, sitting down in the chair directly across from me.
“Well, you’ll be so busy with family matters that you really won't have time for anything else. We both know how you get when you have these types of tensions.” She nods to the stack. “I’ve got another stack that size waiting for you when those are finished.”
The last thing I want is for her to come with me when she’s one of the reasons I'm in a hurry to leave in the first place. But having her sitting there is distracting me–and she’s waiting for a response.
“I mean, I’m already making your entire itinerary…” she trails, looking nowhere in particular. As much as I truly loathe admitting it, she’s right. Having her privy for organization aiding the mess of everything else I have to deal with, would make things roll smoother. I refrain from growling under my breath at the realization.
I let out a long breath before tagging a quick “fine” at the end of it. “As long as we stay in a penthouse suite with two bedrooms. I want my security guarding us, not some flimsy lock on a common dinghy room with a pull-out couch.” She clears her throat, and I think I may have just gotten a laugh out of her. Somewhere deep inside me, there’s a bit of pride in my garnering this reaction.
“I expect that itinerary within the hour.” I nod to the door, wanting to pat myself on the back for the cold professionalism I'm displaying. She gets up without a word and leaves, murmuring, “thank you.” on the way out. I’m not sure if I was meant to hear it or not, but I'll accept it all the same. She should thank me for letting her spoil my getaway from her. Eventually, my email chimes, alerting me of the itinerary sent by Ms. Lee. She’d known to contact my private pilot, and in the email is a list of the times he’s available for takeoff. I review them quickly, scanning down the page to the earliest time. Of course, it’s an hour from now. It doesn’t seem logistically possible to be fully prepared by then, but…
Fuck it, we can make it.
I pull out my phone and send a message to Barnes. He seems to have a knack for clothes. “Please prepare a suitcase for Ms. Lee and me, with clothes, essentials, and passports. Have it at the private airport within the hour, and don’t be late.” I send it to him and receive an immediate thumbs-up back.
After responding to Ms. Lee’s email, choosing the flight times, I quickly work on last-minute paperwork to secure the deal from today. It’s nearly three o’clock when she bursts through my door.
“Are we leaving now?” I look up from my work at her nervous tone. Very unlike her to appear so out of sorts. I really hope she doesn’t make me regret bringing her more than I already do.
“We can, yes. I was just wrapping these documents up.”
“Okay.” She nods, turning to leave.
“I’m ready now.” I quickly remark, signing my last paper and grabbing my suit jacket off the coat hanger. She stops and waits for me, and we proceed to the car together. We’re met by security just outside the lift, and they ride with us down to my personal garage. “Straight to the private airport,” I alert my driver as security helps Ms. Lee into the back beside me. She cocks her head as a black divider rolls up between the front and back seats.
“I- I don’t have clothes… or anything….” She remains entirely too frazzled to be going on a free vacation. A vacation she begged to go on, mind you.
“It’s all dealt with and waiting on the plane for us as we speak. No need to worry, Ms. Lee.” I notice the knot in her throat as she swallows.
The drive down to the airport is mostly silent as she tapped on her phone, not even glancing my way. I take the time to distract myself by messaging Antonio and asking him to alert Tyrone of my efforts. He responds quickly, so I know he’s sober and on the case. He won’t blow this for me again. If he does, it could have worse ramifications than his pointless partying habits.