Stone Cold Fox (11)
Before popping back up to the surface we smile at each other again. With our teeth. When I feel the sun on my face again, I’m still smiling and feel so happy and forget that we have to leave, but Mother’s face has already changed. Her smile is gone. “The next pool will be better,” she says. I’m cold again. Mother hoists herself up out of the pool without looking at me, her jeans soaking wet, and walks back into the house.
When she shuts the door behind her, I fall back under the water and cry.
CHAPTER
3
THE CASE COMPANY was a huge get for the ad agency, so I was flooded with constant praise by all of my superiors and, begrudgingly, by my peers. I could feel another promotion was imminent as long as I delivered on what we promised the Case Company. The agency wasn’t aware that I was offering my pussy on a platinum platter to the family’s default golden boy, but that was neither here nor there. New business had closed and then Collin asked me out, so I hardly saw the correlation. I knew the office would be shortsighted about our burgeoning relationship, so I would have to keep it under wraps until we were engaged.
Another day, another dollar, and I had to answer my own phone at work since my assistant was late coming back from lunch. Unacceptable, but I rather enjoyed chewing her out because she looked like a distressed amphibian when she was upset and it made me laugh. Cheap thrills. Per the incoming number on the screen, I fully expected Collin’s voice on the other end, relatively deep with a dose of that mysterious mid-Atlantic about it. Instead, a timid female voice was on the line.
“Hello, is this Bea?”
“Yes, and who is this?” I raised an eyebrow, suspicious. I never liked an unexpected conversation with a stranger.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have said!” the mystery woman replied, shaken, with no confidence to speak of. “My name is Sylvia Austin. Syl, actually. I go by Syl. I’m Collin’s new assistant.”
Hmm. I had a vague recollection of Collin telling me he was in the process of hiring someone, but I had wrongly assumed he would hire an Ivy League bro, some new grad whose father was cashing in a favor from Collin’s father so the nepotism cycle could continue indefinitely. I waited patiently for Syl to say what she wanted, but the silence went on for far too long.
“So does Collin wish to speak to me, Syl?”
“No, no! He’s in a meeting. Actually, I was just making some updates at my desk and I was wondering if you could share a few preferences with me?”
“Preferences?”
“You know, what you like. Favorite color, favorite flower, favorite jeweler. Things like that so I can stay ahead of it for when—”
“Did Collin tell you to do this?” I interrupted her, since I was very busy and important.
“No. Just something I’m grabbing in advance of important holidays, milestones, anniversaries and things of that nature.”
So he hired a smart girl. I appreciated her proactivity, but I didn’t appreciate the assumption that I would be available at her leisure. It was improper.
“All right. Blue—cobalt, royal or navy, generally, but never anything resembling turquoise or teal or a robin’s egg. Peonies, especially the blush tones. Never a tropical varietal of any kind. If there is ginger or heliconia to be found in an arrangement, I’ll throw it out. My taste in jewels can range from Catbird to Cartier, I’m open-minded. Dainty and delicate usually, but the gem itself can be obscene. That said, I don’t do statement necklaces—my neck is too thin to carry one so I make statements in other ways. I have a meeting now myself. If you need anything else, please send a calendar invite to my assistant for a future discussion.”
And I hung up on her.
I wanted Syl the Assistant to fear and revere me in equal measure, so that would be a good start. I immediately wondered what she looked like and if she was younger than me. I started to poke around on the internet, but I was only finding Sylvias that were women of a certain age. She didn’t sound like she was in her golden years, and before I could dig any further, I was startled to see my boss come into my office without even a knock.
Len.
Len Arthur was the picture-perfect archetype of an adman from days gone by, who yearned for the eighties, when Campari and cocaine reigned supreme on Madison Avenue. He exclusively wore gray sport coats, when black or blue would have been much more flattering on his near-translucent skin tone. He looked very stern when he entered, his eyes were nearly crossed as they zeroed in on me, and I had no earthly idea what the pressing issue could be, much less one that warranted such a rude entrance. I had no choice but to greet him with my tits up and legs crossed, assuming the position to be admired.
“Hello, Len. How’s your day going?”
“Bea. I’m just going to come out and ask you.” Oh God. Was he going to ask me out? A true nightmare, for me and HR. Sure, Len could be on the lascivious side at a work-mandated happy hour, but he knew the boundaries as well as I did, at least while we were in the office with everyone in full view. No one could have an affair in that office with all of the glass windows and doors.
“Are you engaging in an intimate relationship with a client?” he asked me.
“Excuse me?” I was incredulous. How the hell did he know that?
“I received a phone call from Collin Case’s assistant. She was updating his files and contacts and mentioned she had spoken to you earlier today as the other point of contact on the Case Company account. I thought nothing of it until she mentioned she was ‘killing two birds’ by updating her professional and personal records for Collin as his vendor and, ahem, his girlfriend.”