Lag (The boys of RDA #2)(14)

I grab the yellow notebook from the top of my desk and a pen before I follow him out. Six doors down, Jay stops to knock on Mr. Bob Peterson’s office door. Not that anyone calls him Bob, not if you want to still have a job when you’re done.

“Come in!”

“The man might be going on seventy, but he still has a set of iron lungs, huh?” Jay says back to me and then opens the door with a fresh smile plastered on his face.

Mr. Peterson sits behind his big black wooden desk. His literal corner office would be bright and maybe even a little inviting if you didn’t know the man who occupied it. It’s not that our boss is a bad guy. I’ve seen him dance the funky chicken with his wife at our holiday party. No one should be imposing after you’ve seen them cluck and wave their arms like wings, but somehow the guy does it. Impose, that is.

“My lungs aren’t the only part of me in good working order. I also have impeccable hearing, Miller.” See! Mr. Peterson waves a wrinkled hand in front of him and motions for us to sit in the two green fabric chairs in front of his desk.

“Sorry, sir.” Jay becomes overly interested in the folder he’s placed on his lap.

“Right, well, we aren’t here about you, Jay. I wanted to speak with Simone.” He looks to me and I try to keep the panic from my features. “I’m sure you’re aware of all the trouble on the West Coast last week, so I won’t go over it again. But as you know, it's messy.”

I have no idea what’s messy, but there is no way I’ll ask for clarification now. It’s up to me to fake it and have Jay fill me in later.

“Until our Los Angeles branch recovers from their walk-out, they can’t offer San Francisco any help in finding a replacement. Walters, the office manager, called and asked me for my best employee. The time table’s short, but I want to offer it to you, Simone. You’ve shown yourself to be dedicated to the Lowry, Lowry, and Fink Company over the last five years, and this is your chance to shine and show us what you’re made of.”

For the first time since I met Stacy, I’m upset that she didn’t get the chance to fill me in on all this gossip. At least then I’d have half a clue what we're talking about. Of course, even if I did know the horrendous details, most of my thoughts were lost when Peterson muttered the words San Francisco.

To avoid more awkward silence, I open my notebook. My pen clicks once, the sound too loud in the now quiet cavernous office while both men stare at me. “I’m sorry, sir, and how is it you’d like me to help out the San Francisco branch?”

The options float around in my head. A month to train a new employee, an inner company audit. There are so many options. Options that will allow me to see Trey again.

“By moving there.”

“Excuse me?” Both bosses sigh in unison and I bristle. I’m the one clueless one here. “For how long?”

“Ms. Stevens, I’m offering you a promotion to Executive Account Manager in our San Francisco office.” His smooth words slice open my entire existence.

The office falls silent, the soft hum of the laptop the only distraction. Peterson and Jay’s eyes haven’t left me. Both men sit straight and wait for my decision, but I’m back on the beach in Nassau with Trey. What would it mean to be in the same city as him? Forever. How different could my vacation have been if this happened the week before I left?

Mr. Peterson fills the quiet in a possible attempt to talk me into the position, unaware my answer was decided for me on a jet ski four days ago. “I won’t lie to you, Walters, the office manager is an *. He’s half the reason they’re in this mess, but he’ll make the move worth your time. A promotion, pay increase, and our full relocation package.”

There is finally movement to my left as Jay’s head swings to my direction. “Simone, you’d be great at this. We’ve been more partners than boss and assistant for at least our last three years together. You should do it.”

“It’s a big decision. If you need a few days to think about it, I understand, but don’t make us wait too long.” Mr. Peterson stands from his desk to usher Jay and me out.

I stand but don’t move with the sweep of his arm. “I don’t need to think about it, sir. I’d love the promotion.”

“Great! I’ll tell Walters you’ll be there by the end of the month.” Mr. Peterson claps me on the back to seal the deal.

San Francisco by the end of the month?





CHAPTER EIGHT


One month later


“Your dress is a little stuffy for the west coast. You need to work on updating your wardrobe. You aren’t in New York City anymore, Simone.”

There’s nothing wrong with my wardrobe or tonight’s little black dress, and my new Rossi red pumps are to die for. The only problem in the room would by my new boss, Roger Walters. At forty-five he’s one of the youngest branch managers in the company, but it’s his need to control his employees like we’re incapable of the smallest decisions that sets him apart. I understand why he’s known as the company * on both coasts.

“Of course, sir.” I brush him off and finish the walk into the hotel ballroom a few steps in front of him.

I’m eager to get away from my 5’5” tall manager with the face of a bull terrier. With his elongated head and beady little eyes, he'd win one of those “People who look like their pets” contests. If he doesn’t already have a bull terrier, I'm sure the office would all chip in and get him one for Christmas.