Rash Decisions (PREVIEW)

Chapter 6 - More Ways Than One

JULIA FERRIS

I press the enter button on my keyboard triumphantly as the printer on my desk begins spitting out my e-mail confirmation seconds later.

Lunch with Troy three days ago was torturous, yet undeniably enjoyable at the same time. How is that possible? I am not quite sure yet. 

The bickering was more playful than scrutinizing, and I couldn’t help but laugh at Troy’s tightly tweaked brow as he scolded me while cutting into his steak as if he killed the beast himself. But the best part was hearing his laughter. It’s tone even deeper than his voice, and it wrapped around me like a summer breeze every time. 

I would point out his ridiculous nuances of arrogance, and he kept trying to prove I had ulterior motives among my jokes and jabs. If I am not mistaken, we might have made progress. Though, we departed like strangers as we entered the office. We rode the elevator in silence and then strolled to our offices without so much of a goodbye or a thank you, let alone a recognition of the electrifying banter, or raw words that were exchanged —nothing. I had walked into my office and taken a seat wondering if I made up the whole lunch date in my head. I had racked my brain to rid itself of the deep, dark baritone sound of Troy’s laughter that echoed in my head filling random blank spaces of time, as if taunting me with the debatable memory.

It has annoyed me so much that the days that have past, Troy has deliberately been ignoring my existence. I found that with each morning, no matter how early I thought I was getting there after getting a cup of coffee across the street, Troy was already in his office with the door closed. I’d feel his intense green stare through the open blinds, but we never crossed paths.

The disconnect felt there more than ever, and the word team was starting to feel like a far off memory of guidance, too. Troy was serious of his vendetta, and I should assume he would be a man of his stubborn word.

Regardless, I have spent the days proving myself, connecting with a developer that just got into town who bought a run down building in the lower east side, a mere block from the growing nightlife area, and this one was closer to the water. I already had a meeting scheduled with him tomorrow morning. 

I could extend the olive branch with this invite to Troy. I have enjoyed having Troy’s eyes on me, be it they can travel somewhat heavily over my body, but is it a tangible wish he would look at me as an equal?

This investor, Kevin Jones, has millions to toy with and looking to invest in the restaurant business. This is my chance to jumpstart this endeavor.

My fingertips wiggle with excitement as the printer spits out the last page of the e-mail. 

I peer down at my feet, my Louboutins tapping their toes in furious anticipation of shooting me toward his office.

I snatch the paper from the tray, and then fly out the door of my office. I try calming my steps and claw-like grip on the paper once I am out in the open, but my feet abruptly halt themselves the moment my eyes recognize Troy walking out of the elevator.

That asshole…

Jacques and Louis Soleil come strolling out, each standing on either side of Troy. The French brothers are impeccably dressed in matching gray suits, except each wears a different elaborate tie to compliment their crisp white linen shirts.

Troy’s hands rest in his pockets to accompany his shit-eating grin as he talks to Jacque, who adjusts his sunshine yellow tie, but Louis is scowling beside the two men, only nodding and listening intently.

Silly Troy, you can’t get one and not the other and think you have it in the bag.

The three men stroll through the lobby of the office without much of a glance in my direction as I stand stoically in front of Claire’s desk, who’s petite gasp embodies my evident shock.