Eleanor & Grey(50)
He didn’t speak a word.
So, I kept yapping, because the less he talked, the more nervous I became. “Lorelai seems to be really into art. I looked up some art programs in the area if you’d be interested in me forwarding the information to you.”
Was I speaking out loud? Were words even coming out of my mouth? Because Greyson was reacting as if I were a ghost, and he couldn’t hear a word I was saying.
“She’s really talented and—” I started again, and I watched his body physically cringe.
“We don’t have to do this, Eleanor,” he interjected, still not looking my way.
“Do what?”
“Engage with each other.” He ran his hand along his jawline before dropping it and clasping his fingers together.
“Oh, right. Sorry. I just figured you’d want to be updated on my first week.”
“I already received updates from Allison.”
“Right, of course, but just so you know, I’m completely okay with updating you each day, since we are around one another. I can stop by your office before I head home. Going through Allison is good and all, but I feel that sometimes she just relays the information without giving you the heart of things. I think us communicating would be wise. Plus, if you think about it—”
“No,” he cut in.
“What?”
“I said no. That’s not going to happen. You will report to Allison, end of story.”
“But, Greyson—”
“Please, Eleanor,” he pleaded. He begged me to stop talking. As if the idea of me reporting to him was too much, as if interacting with me was a huge burden.
I took a deep breath, feeling my skin crawl. He was definitely not the boy I’d once known. “Sorry, Greyson. All I am saying is, I really feel like you should be involved with everything.”
“I am involved.”
Yeah, right.
Just because he showed up to an appointment once a week and waved goodbye to Lorelai in the morning before leaving for work, that didn’t make him an involved parent.
But I bit my tongue.
Stay in your lane, Eleanor. Stay in your lane.
It was just so hard to do that when the boy I’d once loved would’ve never been so cold.
30
Eleanor
FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected] DATE: January 18, 9:54 PM
SUBJECT: Work Standards.
Eleanor, After our interaction this afternoon, I feel it is important to go over some guidelines on working for me. Firstly, I believe it is best that you address me as Mr. East from here on out. I believe it will make things less personal. Since you are an employee, this is appropriate behavior, and it is how all my previous employees have been told to approach me. It is nothing personal, merely a business standard that is expected. I appreciate you upholding this structure moving forward.
Please note that you are to take any and all updates directly to Allison as opposed to bringing them to me. This is of the utmost importance, as I am a very busy individual and I do not have the time or patience to be bothered at your will. I am running a huge corporation, and the last thing I need is for the nanny to occupy my valuable time speaking out of turn about piano lessons.
As to that matter, Lorelai will continue her lessons, end of story.
I believe Allison has already informed you of the three-strike process. Please respect these rules and keep them at the forefront of your mind as we move forward.
Warm regards,
-Mr. East
FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected] DATE: January 18, 10:16 PM
SUBJECT: Re: Work Standards.
Aye aye, Captain.
Er, sorry, I mean Mr. East.
Lukewarm regards,
-Eleanor
FROM: [email protected] TO: [email protected] DATE: January 18, 10:34 PM
SUBJECT: Re: Re: Work Standards.
Eleanor, Your sarcasm is ill-received.
Please be more cognizant of acting your age.
Strike one.
Warm regards,
-Mr. East
31
Greyson
Lukewarm regards.
I didn’t know if Eleanor was trying to be comical or sassy, but she’d missed the mark on both accounts. I simply found it childish and rude. There wasn’t anything I’d said to her that was out of the norm for a professional place of employment, and for the amount she was being paid, she could’ve at least been respectful enough to not be catty.
I didn’t have any more work to do in my home office that night, and it was only eleven. Perhaps that was why I’d found the need to send Eleanor the email at all.
I needed to stay busy. Otherwise I’d think, and nothing good came from my thoughts.
Ding.
I looked down at my cell phone.
Landon: Roses are red, violets are blue, would you stop being a dick and just call me, dude?!
Landon’s best friend daily check-in message came a little later than normal that night. He must’ve had a long day of filming.
After high school, Landon’s life had shifted in a way most people only dreamed of. He’d gone off to California during spring break to get wasted and party, and instead, he had been discovered by a Hollywood acting scout and become this insanely famous actor.