Yes, Sir

0.5

I take the beverage from her grasp and pull it to my lips. It was still scorching hot and just the way I liked it. How she got my order was questionable considering I made all the employees downstairs sign a release form. It's one of those weird things reporters ask for. I wasn't about to wake up one day with a million black coffees waiting downstairs at my condo.

"Thank you," I say, the words damn close to foreign to myself, "What is on my agenda for the day?" I ask, sipping my drink as I wait for a response.

"You have a scheduled conference call with an investor at 10, your mother left a voicemail requesting a reminder that she takes off this morning, lunch with a new client, and a few papers are waiting your approval."

I was shocked that she hadn't stuttered this morning. In fact, I was shocked that she'd managed to get that out all in one breath. It was amazing if I were looking for entertainment.

"Very well. Did my mother say anything else?" I ask, raising my eyebrow as last night's memories over dinner come back to me.

She shakes her head and points to her phone, "I made sure to save the voicemail for your convenience."

I nod my head and carefully walk by her desk to my office. I contemplated praising her for her rather speedy recovery after yesterday's mishap, but I decide against it seeing as it was better off that she learned before I go out handing rewards for failed behavior.

•- Laine Bennett -•

I let out a breath I'd been holding during my interaction with Austin Wood.

"Did he take it?"

I turn to Brent who was eagerly waiting behind a cubicle wall just in case I was in need of help.

"You, my friend, are an amazing being and I'm so thankful I met you," I laugh, pulling the guy into a hug.

Our friendly embrace was cut short by Mahalia's voice, "What are we hugging over and why does no one involve me in group hugs? It's seriously mean and I'm offended by this interaction," she says in a jokingly serious manner.

Even though she wasn't involved, we pull her in anyways and erupt into a soft laughter just so we don't interrupt the people around us. After all, it was still way too early for this shit. But anything to get on the boss man's good side, I'm diving right off the board and straight into the pull. I'm coming for you Michael Phelps.

"So, our of curiosity, what are we hugging about?" Mahalia asks as we pull away from each other.

"Lainey fucked up yesterday so I helped her get her ass back in line with Austin," Brent answers, knocking my chance of a thorough and probably overdramatized rundown of the situation.

I watch Mahalia's eyes dart to the door to Austin's office before back to us. "Like the great Hannah Montana once said, 'Nobody's perfect.'"

"Speak for yourselves, I'm a fucking perfect," Brent snorts, making Mahalia and I both exchange amused eye contact.

Working here might not suck after all.

•- Austin Wood -•

I can admit that I'd been eavesdropping of Brent and Laine's conversation. But it wasn't for necessarily any particular reason. I think if I had to pinpoint my determination to make out their conversation it could be concluded that Is imply wanted to understand my mother's reasoning for assuming this young woman was a good person.

I judged my employees greatly on their behavior with each other. I don't do conflicts, and if they needed to be dealt with it was in an orderly manner without warnings. This isn't a zoo. We had shit to get done and I wasn't going to slack for a second. At least, not at work. Anymore.

Mahalia's voice becomes vocal and almost as quickly as she'd entered the conversation, she was gone.

I was trapped in a world of judging everyone else instead of deciding whether or not I would go through with future plans regarding a new project that was outside of this company's comfort zone.

My phone rings beside me and I don't hesitate to lift the device to my ear.

I never did introductions unless necessary and my clients were well aware of this factor if they'd been buzzed in.

"There's a call on line two, Mr. Wood," Laine's soft voice comes over the speaker.

I hang up on her immediately and take the call.

"Austin, it's been some time my man," an old college friend who I could recognize in a heartbeat says from his side of the phone.

"Thomas, how've you been?" I ask, not actually caring considering his frequent posts in social media about the new woman he had at his side every week. It was a weird idea to post about your many endeavors but it seemed to work for him and somehow it gained him a following of women who desired his attention.

"Neither of us are chit-chat guys so let's cut to the chase. I need the details on the house. You have a date set yet?"

It was similar to all my calls regarding work, but this one was harder. Usually I would have an answer by now, but as far as I knew, we were way behind schedule with the new designs.

"I can't say that we do, Tom. You're very aware that our particular taste in architecture lies with hint of modern and Scandinavian. Building Victorian especially in this era of newfound modern design is making it quite difficult for my design team to find the right layout." I reply truthfully, just as I would to any other client.

A loud sigh erupts on the other line, "Don't tell me we have to setback the date. You know how much I hate waiting, Aussie. If you can get the blueprint out ASAP then I think I can hold off but I'm on a time crunch. The opening date is already set and if we don't have the structure built then clearly we can't have a grand opening. Do you see my dilemma?"

Thomas Walter III was a real pain in the ass. He always got what he wanted when he wanted it and gave zero fucks about who he hurt in the process. Of course that's just years of pent up aggravation for him as a man. All throughout college I was he guy who followed Thomas Walter like an idiot. So when I blew up and he didn't, the table did a full 360° and his entire career was based on his connection to me.

It was a nice change in pace if we were being honest. I'd spent my entire college experience being Peter Pan's shadow and now it felt liberating to not have a worry about the stares of people who thought of me as simply a follower. Even I would have called myself that in a more private setting, but now I felt like I was at the top of the food chain and this asshole was trying to make his way up but failing like a fucking idiot.

My pent up anger for this man was probably what lead me to my next words, "If you don't want what we have to offer int he time limit we have, then I think you should find another architectural facility that's willing to build an old style home with today's booming style."

He scoffs, but before he could fire back, I simply say, "Have a nice day, Mr. Walter."

Would that ban me from all future events at my alma mater? Probably. But no fucks are given.

My phone rings beside me and I expect to see Thomas' number, but instead it was Laine's receptionist phone.

I answer, agitated that we'd already lost another account, "What could you possibly need now, Miss. Bennett?" I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"I heard your anger through the thin walls. Not that I was listening but I just wanted to make sure things were alright in there. We don't need you going into cardiac arrest you sign the checks around here," she chuckles lightly and for the first time today, I smile.

•———•

Within the time of the last update and now, my ass got sick. I feel tired, I'm sick, I have a headache, but I got shit to do and I'll be damned if I fuck up the schedule already.

In case you didn't read what I posted, I'll be hopefully publishing 2 times a day just to get to a comfortable point by Thanksgiving. We'll see how this works out because I don't even know when I was this to really take off, ya know? I kinda half assed this chapter because I feel like shit so I'm just gonna go now.

•Climax King
•Summer Sex
&
•2,213.3 Miles Away