Chapter 2 – Confrontations
My boss was strangely quiet. If I stood any longer on this road and didn't get a call in the next ten minutes saying; 'I'd just like to follow up your progress, Ariel. When can I really expect my list though?' then strike me down because she was always calling me out for my over-optimistic estimated delivery time.
"What should I call you?" she'd once asked. "Ariel or Amazon?"
You think I was going to let her call me Amazon again?
I steam-rolled into the next shop for coffee no.2 because there's no way I was going without one after spilling coffee no.1. I had one job. Yet, as I paced ahead, the pressure of it got me good. Running my hands over my head I cranked my hair up till it fell like stress around me.
Jacey:
You've got two hours.
My boss came through with a clipped tone to her text and wasn't about to let me breathe. Not that I had much breath left, puffing and panting up this street, knowing there was no way I could walk into my boss's office and not know at least five companies in that building. Even as I fought the wrath of the abrupt wind on the way there, the Morditch building stared me down like a hurricane. I was going in the eye. I needed to look presentable. So here I was, making the best of my skirt riding around my knees and palming my windblown hair smooth while continuing the trick of keeping this cup in hand. No great sorcery or anything, but yep, managed it this time.
"We don't have any vacancies." The receptionist's eyes moved over me like cheat-codes on a game controller, up-down, up-down until she figured that combo wouldn't trigger any special moves. Like make me disappear from her desk so she could progress through level one of her day.
I had one main accomplishment to achieve today, but successfully managing to go from looking like I had a job fifteen minutes ago to looking like I needed one wasn't what I had in mind. It had me fixing my mouth to tell her that I was indeed employed. I think she straight forgot I was there now. She tapped those keys like an orchestral pianist.
"I was here earlier, actually. I had—"
"A one-time permit." Her nod was quick, followed by her attention laying back on her screen in nought-seconds flat. I'd bet any money she wished I was on the phone so she could put me on hold.
"Excuse me, but—"
"I'm sorry, but the moment you exit the building your visitation permit is up."
She typed again, her tested patience flaring her shiny nostrils. I stared her down. Really? This was how we were going to do this, was it?
"Is there a problem?" She said.
Took me a second to realise her speed-typing had stopped. Good. Maybe I could nab her attention longer than five seconds this time.
"Listen." I weighed my arms down on her L-shaped reception desk while she visibly swallowed like I'd smudge the glass. She didn't move a jot. "You have a job to do," I continued. "But I have a job to do, too. It's probably the only thing we're gonna have in common right now. Can you just take a moment to consider that, you know, we both have things to finish by the end of the day? That we're not the boss of ourselves and there's always someone else breathing down our necks? I need to get in this building, I need—"
She wasn't going to let me do this and I could see it. I held my sigh till I couldn't and it came out long. "Please. I can't afford to fail."
She looked me up and down from her ski-slope of a smooth nose, seemed to conclude I wasn't a terrorist, but still proceeded to churn out the probably usual spiel she reserved for those like me who weren't allowed in the place for a second time without the relevant accessibility.
"I get it," she said. "I do. But the one-time permit policy is a security issue. Wasn't even introduced that long ago. Just a lot of...weird things happening here recently."
'Security issues' was also the reason I wasn't allowed any information right now. "It's only temporary."
Like that was going to make my day any easier.
Well, whatever weirdness was happening here, it couldn't be weirder than what I was about to do. Weird, to me, was flashing a consolation smile when there was nothing she'd think I'd smile about.
"That's okay." I nodded. She couldn't see through my pretend disappointment or know how much pain my cheeks went through flashing this thing.
A lift later, I walked out onto the eighteenth floor clutching my now half-full coffee. See, only if I'd "had a proven appointment" she said, or was with someone who had valid access, could I be here. So, as you know, I was already floors up. And as you probably guessed, I snuck in. Right by someone entering and made it look like I was a part of this place before I disappeared in a different direction.
I know I know, but this was Jacey we were talking about. The website for this place was useless. All it did was sing the praises of the building but not talk about the companies resident. I had to do what I had to do even if that meant kicking doors and taking names one by one, and I'd much rather have taken my chances on this than face the wrath of Longsworth.
It was after jotting down two names on two storeys that I stepped out onto a floor with two large glass doors and an engraved brass plate on the wood wall beside it. The brass plate read GD Holdings, and didn't have a single beanbag worthy of taken photos of to send off to Jacey quickly. That was the floor I should've been on. This wasn't it.
Great. Was it now time to mentally bitch-slap myself across the forehead?
It wasn't long after pressing the button for the right floor, and waiting for the lift to do its rounds on the lower grounds, that the bell dinged and opened. Not that I noticed straight away, what with my cheeky thought of getting away with sitting in the beanbag room to churn out these emails afterwards, but out came these two whoevers saying whatever. Didn't give them a second thought. Just slipped past them, lowered head and everything, hoping no one would catch me out up here. I wasn't about to explain my unauthorized presence so I ignored them. That was until I got in the lift, faced the doors, and was inches from pressing the correct floor above until I heard—
"You."
I looked up into the stunned recognition of a tall, dark haired, impeccably dressed, broad-shouldered man. Piercing silvery eyes. Him. With a capital H despite not being God but looking like one. Yep, you guessed it. It just had to be him. Mr You-Are-A-Magpie.
He caught my eyes the way a surprise does, wanted, pleasantly unforeseen, one unwrapped glimpse at a time. He looked like a guy who liked surprises because I didn't seem like the type he hated. I could've been mistaken, but I wasn't a horrible surprise, and now he let me see that. You could get completely lead astray in his eyes, and I'm talking seriously. Corrupted even. And boy would I like him to corrupt me.
The thought left my head as soon as it entered. Instant purge. It was so out of place at a time like this. I wouldn't mind them later though *wink*.
His immediate scrutiny of my prim-attired figure lit a spark of self awareness in me, and I just tucked a hair behind my ear. It became apparent that the two whoevers consisted of him and an older gentleman holding a briefcase, who continued to walk on as though he thought Silver-eyes was still right beside him. Moving his free hand with animated certainty, he'd not stopped talking all this time. Wonder when he'd realise he was talking to himself?
Yet Silver remained in full recognition of me. Briefcase over there might as well have been any random man right now. Easily dismissible. I'd torn my eyes away from Silver long enough to finally push the floor number in a desperate attempt to get the hell out of there. Nothing good could come of this. No way. Let him acknowledge me, let me acknowledge my job. There. For a split second though his light male scent reached out to me as if to not let me leave without taking a part of him with me. On me. God, he smelled too good.
But the other guy clocked that Silver wasn't within earshot any more and came up, continuing.
"...the withdrawal..."
Not that much of him got my attention.
"...funds from..."
Apart from maybe that.
"...a number or projects..."
Finally, the signal for the elevator to close came through like a sigh of relief. Long overdue.
But the moment briefcase-guy mentioned organisations not dissimilar to the one I worked for—some I knew, some I didn't—that was then I heard it; The Art Inspires Community Partnership.
"What?" No way.
"Excuse me?" he said.
During which time the honeyed brass elevator doors gave into my reflection. They were closing in. I thrust forward and hit the button on repeat to get the doors to retract. Not that I needed to. Silver's hand slid between the doors, fending it off for the two seconds it took to prise back open again. I can't say I cared too much about how scattery I became, jumping out of the elevator, scuttering through before the doors could close and kidnap my handbag, but yep, now I cared once I got out.
The older man's phone rang which he picked up, then turned his back to take it.
"Sorry, but..." Shit. I could seriously feel my coffee about to spill due to the elevator door hiccup. I'd be damned if this happened again.
Shit!
Mr Silver Eyes reached out.
"Whoa! Not this time." He chuckled.
Thankfully, lightning didn't strike twice on this occasion.
He caught my arms at the elbows as one of my hands held onto him at the forearm, the other desperate to make sure I didn't spill this cup. He really didn't need to help me. Really. Except it appeared he didn't think that. He held me like this was round two of earlier, and I slid out from him and backed up two steps like I'd be damned if round one repeated itself.
"I'm good." A smile to boot, and a nod to reinforce it.
It didn't take Sherlock to see he wasn't convinced. But that was okay. I was pretty intact. Both feet on the ground. Hadn't fallen. I was fine. That was proof enough no matter how he looked at me, or how reluctant his hands were to let me go until I was as stable as he thought I wasn't.
I pulled my skirt down further past my knees and straightened the edges of my blazer.
"Thank you." I briefly looked at him. "I'm not usually..."
I needed to breathe. The kind you tell yourself to take before you speak again and say some uber defensive thing as if the person you're speaking to matters. "Don't know what's up with me today." I laughed a little nervous.
"I think we can safely blame the elevator for that one." He smiled. "I see you got that coffee after all."
I looked down at my hand. Still there.
"Yes." I said blinking. "I did. But uh, I just overheard you talking about taking funds away from the Art Inspires Community Partnership."
It wasn't his fault that his face didn't have to do much for me to see the layers of handsome all over it. Not even that he paused and held my gaze like sunlight through my window before I could close my curtain eyes and leave him in the dark. But I wasn't Fuzzy-Heels, you know. He couldn't get me so out of my head the way he did she when her head turned to rival the girl from The Exorcist. Not even looking at me for the longest moment the way he did just then could take me out of work-mode. And yet it was hard not to notice the way he stared at me; a long evaluation from head to toe. Again.
I could just imagine his thoughts; observe; my hair dark. A slightly unruly curly despite my attempt at a bun. In fact, scratch that, this was the deliberately messy 'bed-look' I'd tried to pull off one too many times and failed ten too many times. It was bleak. Wonder what he thought about that? I can't say I'd managed it this time either though, the look I was going for that is. I probably just looked like a ruffled mess to him.
"So, let me guess. Eavesdropping huh?" he said.
"I overheard." I emphasized, trying not to let that voice of his send me into the wild unknown of abyss-like hedonism. "It's not especially difficult to hear something that's literally two feet away from you. The gentleman wasn't exactly hushed about it." I said of the man coming up beside him, who only just came off his phone moments ago.
"I'm inclined to ask you what your interest is in that particular piece of information, Miss Magpie," he said with a wry smile.
"Miss Mag—you know her?" The older guy said passing his eyes between us.
I huffed. "No, I just met him.'
"But he knows your name?"
"Yes, but—no, that's not my name." I shook my head. "He knows me from before. Well, he doesn't know me, know me, you know, just...that was before. Like before...now." I wasn't making myself very clear was I? His face pretty much confirmed it.
He seemed amused though. Mr Silver Eyes that is. He just watched me, like he was waiting for me to make an even bigger fool of myself.
"Well," I began anyway, "Regardless, I'm sure you're aware of the steady withdrawal of financial support towards youth projects, the arts, and much needed renovation projects around the Capital due to the government reducing spend in these areas and diverting cash into more prioritised areas." I didn't blink. Not because I was mad focused, but because I was surprised by my regained composure while facing such a physically all-encompassing man.
But if indeed there was something to this company playing a part in what was happening to us, then...well...he needed to hear me out at least.
"These projects and organisations are struggling as it is," I added. "And important funders such as the company you clearly work for are becoming increasingly important in helping to keep organisations afloat. I'm just trying to figure out..." I shook my head. "I mean...why? What possible reason do you have to stop supporting important initiatives like this?"
He sucked in a breath and straightened. As he did this, I could see the emerging build of the man through his expensively tailored suit. Not only was he tall, but he was built like some kind of warrior in a business suit as I could liken him to nothing else. Hell knows what he did when he wasn't in his office to look like that. Maybe he'd spent much of his years with an axe chopping the hell out of things in a forest somewhere? Lifting the backs of trucks in an open field instead of barbells in a gym. Throwing logs over his shoulder. And maybe that was just my mind on a tangent. Whatever. He still didn't look gym-built, fantasy or not.
He broke his gaze and turned briefly to the older gentlemen who'd just stood and watched. He told the gentleman to go inside and just let himself into his office and, as the secretary was already expecting him, she wouldn't ask for ID if he just went in without him. "I'll handle this," he finished.
The way the older man responded gave me the impression I was talking to a man quite high up the company's ladder. And if he had his own office then he surely must be. He did have that air about him, and for someone who looked kinda late twenties, that was quite an achievement.
His gaze returned, those eyes hooded, turning a more storm-grey instead, but still a gleam was present. He glimpsed over me again.
"Any reason why The Art Inspires Community Project is of particular interest to you?"
"It's Partnership actually. Are you going to answer my question?" I corrected and challenged.
He grinned. "You seem to forget I'm repeating a question you didn't even answer. Are you going to answer my question? Seeing as I asked first."
I couldn't help but respond to that involuntary twist of his mouth. Except he wouldn't know I did. All I did was swallow and wonder if he caught that move through my throat. Because I tell you, that grin morphed into undoubtedly one of the sexiest things I'd ever seen.
"It's of interest to me because I used to volunteer my time there once. It was a really great experience, I've not forgotten it."
It was true; I had. That may not be what I was doing now but at the time it got my foot in the door. It was then that Jacey Longsworth had approached me about a job. That paid. I couldn't turn down paid employment now, could I? Obviously.
I didn't want him to know my exact involvement with the organisation. He didn't have to know I still worked there just under a different role. I thought it was compromising. At least from this standpoint I could act like I was an outside voice, like I wasn't completely invested. I could just have had a passing affiliation. He didn't have to know everything.
He nodded in acknowledgement, eyes narrowing with increased intrigue. "I see."
"I just think if you or your boss could see what a project like that does for the people it aspires to help, you would understand the passion that drives organisations like this." I finished.
Silver, with a bunched smile, seemed to want to hold it back. "My boss. Right."
He coughed behind his hand though, and all I could think was how he definitely wasn't hiding that would-be chuckle off. He couldn't hold that in despite actually doing so. I still saw it.
"What? What's so funny?" No way had I said anything worth laughing about.
"Nothing, just..." He held himself stern. More serious this time. "Something you said."
His amused knowing grin didn't leave him even when his mouth tightened into a forced reluctance to smile. I'd sure like to wipe that devilish grin off his distracting face.
"So you came to GD Holdings to do what exactly?" He settled himself finally, ignoring what I just said.
Um. "Whad'you—what do you mean?" I cleared my throat.
"Well, it obviously wasn't to confront anyone about withdrawing financial support from the Inspires project."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because one; you didn't have any idea that GD was withdrawing until you 'overheard' in the elevator, and two: if confronting someone here was your intention, wouldn't you know who you were talking to right now?"
I blinked because he'd thrown me.
There was a stroke of a smile on his lips.
"What initially brought you here? It couldn't have been to chase me down after what happened outside earlier? I mean, I didn't think I was worthy of a stalker so soon. And after all, I did offer to buy you a coffee."
"You did." I nodded, and though I hated his too self-assured 'stalker' comment, I thought I'd let it slide right now. "But I was already on my way somewhere. Back to work actually. So, you know, I'm on the clock."
His eyes glinted. "So...?" he said through his smile.
"What?" I was nervous. He was making me nervous again.
"What brought you here?" he asked again, his eyes held mine with little effort. Either I made it easy or he knew all the effort was mine.
I couldn't look away. My mouth opened and a lingering silence came out for some seconds before I actually spoke. Speechlessness very rarely affects me, and after those seconds of not knowing what to say, I was finally free of it.
"To uh...well," my eyes darted off for an excuse. "I just wanted to...I had an interview downstairs. On the lower floor."
Yep. Forget that the receptionist had greeted me earlier with 'we don't have any vacancies' as if I'd actually been looking, because as of right now, I'd just interviewed for one. Well, that was my story and I was sticking to it even if I could barely string that lie together.
It looked like he was trying to humour me, because it seemed like my excuse of an interview didn't quite pull itself off. But anyone with half a brain could see through that, so I wasn't about to give him too much credit.
"I guess you took the wrong turn then? Confused down with up?"
I glared at him. "I'm not confused, okay."
"You sure about that?"
This guy...he wasn't even close to being on the right track with that assumption. I wasn't 'confused', I'd just made a mistake. So I told him that and then said, "I just...pressed the wrong button that's all. Easy mistake to make. I'm sure you've done that before."
"No."
Well, okay then. That was abrupt. Straightening up and defiantly flicking invisible hair off my face, I decided to take the heat off myself. I was going to do something altogether more bold.
"Who can I speak to around here?"
His eyes drew smaller. "What for?"
"Well, since I'm here I might as well speak to the boss. Ask him what his reasons are for making such a damaging decision over Art Inspires."
"I don't think so."
"Why not? I mean, I don't doubt you have an important role here as it is, but I'm sure it won't take up too much of his time."
"I think you've taken up enough of his time already, don't you?"
Oh.
"You?"
He smiled.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me! How did I not figure that one out? I mean, look at him. Of course, for damn sake. The more I thought about it the more glaringly obvious it became. Like in-my-face-painted-neon-green obvious. Where was my head at? Officially mortified.
It's not like Jacey hadn't told me that work blinded me. I'd bury myself in my job long enough to miss the little things staring me down, begging me to pay attention because they were just as important. Wanting me to take in the world around me a bit more and see the obvious sometimes. "You find it easier to work than to not," she'd told me once. Yeah. I did. I'd see the goal and not anything between it, even the blatant. Not unless someone waved a metaphorical hand in my face the way Silver just did.
Well, from what I could tell it clearly amused him watching me wise up before his eyes. Watching me make a fool of myself demanding to see the boss when he was standing right in front of me all along. Hilarious.
"Okay, so I'm glad you've had your kicks for the day," I said, far from amused. "You could've at least said. I want you to know that I don't find this even remotely funny so you can grin all you want."
He was indeed grinning.
"Look, Miss...?"
"Oh! Were you not just calling me Miss Magpie a moment ago?" I threw back. "I think I should go." I straightened to leave. "I think I've embarrassed myself enough. Sorry to bother you."
I was off, but I stopped short of the elevator and turned to face them. Some latent fire had found its way into my belly and fired up my heart. That plus annoyance.
"But before I leave, I want you to know something;" I said "The AICP is...I mean, you have no idea how great an organisation it is, and I think it's a real shame what you're about to do to us. If only you could see just how...how..."
I started shaking my head, I was always so over enthusiastic whenever I spoke about it, and it was showing. All these sentences wanted to come out of my mouth but I was stumbling on every word in my head. I took a deep breath and tried to start again, but just said instead, "It's a pity you won't be able to see some of the wonderful things it has to offer the people it helps."
I had his attention. "I don't think you're making the right decision leaving us out to dry like this and I really hope you can think again. I don't know why you're doing it, but maybe give it another think through before putting big business before community. Just this once, maybe."
The elevator opened just in time and I got in fast, pressing the button frantically a gazillion times before my stainless, brassed reflection slid in behind the doors, and closed just as quickly.
Before they had closed though, I dared a looked at him. His attention never left me. Not a word spoken. He never once took his eyes off me even until the very last slit before the doors closed in and descended.