Invisible Strings

Chapter Four

Matthew

My office door flies open, and I breathe in the familiar breeze of air. Aiden's mischievous expression greets me.

"Ah, Aiden. How did it go?" I ask, eyeing his grin.

"Hello, Matthew. It went so well! I just closed a deal with Solace, and boy, were they happy about it too. When I left the conference room, I glanced back and saw the CEO and the COO. They're both women. And honestly, I'm not complaining. We should have more women as COOs and CEOs. And they're both beau-"

"Aiden," I interrupt, cutting him off before he continues his ramble about women.

"Right. Yes, sorry," he says abruptly, switching to a professional tone. "I think we should send Solace a letter invitation for a small dinner."

"You know, just a little celebration for this," he suggests.

"Hmm," I hum, thinking it over. Having dinner with them means leaving my office, interacting with people I don't know. But something must have gotten into me since Aiden left to talk with Solace. It's like I want to go to this dinner. Weird. But going to this dinner means seeing Beatrice again.

"Now that I think about it, I agree," I say, waiting for Aiden's reaction. It doesn't disappoint.

He gasps loudly, like a high school girl getting a confession letter.

"One more sound," I warn, holding a finger up to shush him, "and I'll change my mind."

"Okay, I'll take my leave now and leave you to it," he says, striding toward the door and glancing my way one last time.

I sigh, needing to write the letter. I need to write to her. I grab my pen and fancy paper, starting to write. As I finish the letter, I call Gerald on the intercom.

"Gerald, have this letter mailed along with other documents, thanks."

I head toward the elevator, seeing the person I loathe the most: Audrey Adler.

Great! Now I have to suffer a 3-minute ride in the elevator, enclosed with this self-absorbed, arrogant, overconfident, little piece of...

Before I can continue my silent loathing, which obviously doesn't show on my face given the way she's smiling at me, practically beaming, she says:

"Hi there, Matt."

She thinks I'm into her or something.

"Call me that again, and I assure you, Miss Adler, this will be our last conversation," I reply flatly and emotionlessly, despite my annoyance.

"Oh, don't be so rude, Mr. Clayton," she retorts, dragging out my last name and adding honorifics as a sign that she doesn't want to lose her job.

"Please keep it professional, as I don't want to have this conversation again," I say sharply.

"Alright, Mr. Clayton," she says, twirling a strand of golden hair. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She states this as she winks and gets off the elevator. Thank God she's gone.

I exit the elevator, entering the dim parking lot as I make my way toward my car. My phone rings, displaying Aiden's name.

"What does he want now?" I say exasperated, answering the phone.

"What?" I ask, waiting for his response.

"Matthew, we need to buy some new suits," Aiden says.

"Why would we need new suits?"

"We're going to meet business partners, and I've seen your collection. It's trash."