A Time for Hope (Lexi, #3)(61)
With the small shred of audacity I had left, I made a list. ‘Cause that’s what an adult does when the shit hits the fan, right? On one side I listed “friends” and on the other I listed “foes” with stark black line ruled down the middle. In a move, straight out of high school, I was reverting to the highest form of judgement. I needed to go back to basics to try and make sense of it in my head. Who could I trust? Really trust. The list of friends was alarmingly short, and right now all others were perceived as enemies regardless of whether it was justified or not.
I also need to replace Anna. Matt had been left devastated, as he had also been betrayed. He had given Anna zero reason to suspect infidelity, that she could think so little of him rocked his foundations. She hadn’t broached the subject with him, she had just kept believing he was cheating on her while dishing out snide remarks. Who even does that? She was supposed to love him! Needless to say, Matt was pretty much done with her too, though he’d been far more diplomatic than Anna deserved. He’d organized her a hotel to stay in for a few days and booked her a flight home. She had begged him to give her a second chance but he couldn’t go there. He was hurt but he was also proud, his integrity had been unjustly called into question and he couldn’t be with someone who could believe he’d be so easily seduced. It was insulting to both of us really. So as he waved goodbye to her at JFK (he drove her to the airport, a concession I knew would have grated, but Matt is far too nice for his own good) he also waved goodbye to the hurt, unwilling to allow one bad experience to sully him. Unlike me, he was not vengeful. It did still leave us with a gaping hole in our staffing lineup. Did I hire an outsider? After all, a friend hadn’t worked out so well the last time.
After some tough negotiation, Sydney agreed to come onboard temporarily. She managed to sweet talk her current employer into granting her a few months leave so she could accept a secondment role with me. She had argued the merits of the absences in classic Sydney style, pointing out the experience she would gain would be invaluable to the smaller and struggling firm. Confidentiality agreements were signed and put into place as a surety to protect everyone involved. The conflict of interest was minimal though, considering I only had the one client and her other employer was a small fish who mainly focused on gallery openings and local events.
Sydney also had the advantage of already knowing the account so I didn’t have to add to my growing lists of concerns by training a new staff member. She slipped back into the role effortlessly so I insisted Matt take few days to go home and see his family. While he had argued it was unnecessary, I believed the healing he would receive from his family would be far better than anything I could offer him in my current state. See I wasn’t a completely self-absorbed, cold-hearted bitch after all!
After a tedious morning, making last minute finalizations before the commencement of the tour, Sydney stepped out of the office insisting we needed to eat. She was a stickler for meals and had a hard-nosed stance requiring proper nutrition in an effort to work effectively; my diet of Red Bull and an occasional deli sandwich did not meet her tough criteria.
“I got you a warm chicken salad with a balsamic vinaigrette. Found this quaint little Italian place down the street.” Sydney breezed back into the office with a large brown paper bag. “Now put your shit away, clear your desk and eat.”
“You know Syd, I’m still your boss.” I smiled weakly, still emotionally wrung out from the events of the last few days. “Is that anyway to speak to your superior?”
“You might be the boss but I have it on good authority my contract is rock solid. As big as your bollocks are, I doubt you’d risk the legal fall out of firing me.” Sydney smiled as she placed the plastic bowl housing my delicious looking salad in front of me.
Settling into the seat opposite me, Sydney fished out plastic cutlery before lifting the lid on her plastic container to reveal the steaming fettuccini Alfredo she had chosen for herself. Resigned, I too lifted the lid on my container and bit tentatively into my lunch. Quaint Italian place or not, it was delicious.
“So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day then, Boss?” Sydney asked curiously as she twirled a length of pasta around her fork.
“I’m supposed to be meeting this guy later this afternoon. I don’t know, it’s all kind of cloak and dagger bullshit, feels like it’s going to be a waste of my time.” I speared a chunk of marinated chicken with my fork and shoved it into my mouth.
“What guy? I haven’t got anything in your planner?” Sydney urgently reached for her Blackberry to scan the schedule for today.
“It’s not in there. It’s a personal appointment. Some guy Chris recommended. I’m not even sure what he does, he was so f*cking shady on the phone.” I continued to munch on the salad. It was tasty and satisfying, maybe regular meals were actually a good thing!
“Ok girl, spill! What’s the story and don’t give me only half-arsed convolutions. I need a proper explanation. You get bonus points for fully formed sentences as well.”
I sighed. Knowing Syd was not easily appeased, I launched into a detailed run down of my interaction with Manny Ortiz. Through Chris’s recommendation for alternative therapy, I had finally contacted him the day after Anna’s not so peaceful exit from my life. He had been polite but less than forthcoming on the phone as to what he actually did and what his alternative therapy entailed. He insisted instead that I join him and his class on an agreed upon date and time and we would together make the decision about whether I would be a suitable candidate. His requirement that I be evaluated pissed me off no end. Who was he to evaluate me? Wasn’t he providing the service? Wasn’t it up to the consumer to judge whether or not they wished to purchase what was being offered? It was like walking into Jimmy Choo and being told you weren’t good enough to purchase a pair of shoes. As judgmental as sales staff can be, money is the biggest equalizer and yet Mr. Ortiz cared not what my name was or how full my coffers were. He gave little detail over the phone but said he would be happy to speak to me again after I’d gone through his rigorous screening process. ASS!