Change of Heart

Chapter 4

Sitting at my desk, I gaze out at the sunrise over the city. The deep orange and yellow colors seem to bounce off the surrounding buildings. The arguments with Bianca from the past few nights, play out again in my head. I sigh, wondering when we became this, and how did we let each other slip away? It's our anniversary in a few weeks, so maybe I can plan something to get us to reconnect again. Sighing, I check over my schedule for the day. First, is the meeting with Mr. Jones, Tiffany and, "Calvin," I mutter his name out loud.

What is it about him that takes over my mind, I can't even think straight when I'm around him? It's like I'm attra—.

"You ready, Jason?" Monique startles me from the door, bringing my head back to the room.

"Ah, ye... yep, coming now," I stutter, fumbling for my briefcase.

"Mr. Cox is already on his way to the boardroom," she pauses, forming a concerned expression. "You sure you're feeling alright? You really do seem off."

"I'm fine, thanks. It's nothing, really." I doubt my response is very convincing.

"Jason, your tie," she reminds me, pointing to the mess around my neck. Still fidgeting with it, I head to the meeting room.

On my way, I overhear a bunch of interns giggling and whispering about, The Hot Lawyer, from E&C, a few floors up.

"I heard he was engaged," one of them says.

"No, he's a rich bachelor," another shot back.

"Don't be silly. I heard he's sleeping with that sexy swimsuit model, from the cover of Blaze."

I stop and grab their attention, "don't you girls have something you should be doing?" I tell them. Their lawyer chatter drifts my thoughts back to Calvin. He's a good-looking guy, there's no denying that. Why do I think that though? I mean, I'm married, have kids and the thought of another guy being attractive has never crossed my mind before. As I approach the door, I clear my head and try to focus. This meeting needs to go well—I'm hanging on a thin thread right now.

Jim and Sally are already seated when I enter. Jim greets me with a nod, peering over the stack of documents he's scanning through. After taking a seat, Sally comes over holding a white folder. Taking it from her, I immediately start flipping through. It looks to be everything she has gathered for the ad campaigns. My first thought is that there's a lot here, but I'm not sure it's enough to prove that all the concepts and ideas were, in fact our own.

Moments later, 3 people enter the room. Mr. Jones is first, followed closely by his head of Creativity, Tiffany Monroe. She's tall and slender, with shoulder length, platinum blonde hair. A few years ago, we worked together on a project. I volunteer my time for a charity event, which is held every year here in the building. We got paired together to create some posters that were auctioned off for a local food bank. She's a very talented artist who is also extremely ambitious.

Last to enter, is Calvin. He's similar height to me, but way more muscular in build. He looks at me with that too perfect smile. I instantly notice my pulse quicken—maybe it's nerves of the outcome of this meeting. I again try to convince myself he isn't going to affect me. Immediately after they take their seats, Sally stands up, brushes her bushy brown hair off her face and adjusts her glasses. This is the first time I've ever seen her hair down. She then proceeds to hand out what looks like copies of the folder she gave me. With her voice booming around the walls, she starts going into detail about what we are all looking at.

While everyone is skimming through the files, I glance over at Calvin. His eyes are a silvery grey, like dark steel. Suddenly, I realize I'm staring at him and quickly look back down at the page in my hands. After Sally has finished, Calvin begins to speak. His accent is strong, and the words seem to roll off his tongue, curling on some of the syllables. It isn't one of those uppity, snobby British accents, it's velvety and smooth. E&C Law firm, I hear him say. I run the letters over again. Maybe Calvin is who those interns were gossiping about. I trace my eyes down his tie and then to his fitted jacket, buttoned tightly around—the sound of my name grabs my full attention.