Poppy

 

 

 

“So, you’ll basically just be in charge of getting this paperwork done and filed by the end of your shift as well as any errands around the office that myself or… the boss may need.” Reagan smiles at me, though it doesn’t spread through the rest of her face.

Every so often, she shifts her gaze towards the closed door of the conference room that Grant and the other men had vanished into. There was clear apprehension in her oasis colored eyes.

“You mean Mr. Price?” I ask, running my fingers across the smooth white face of the stack of papers on my desk. Each one was marked with the Price Company letterhead. It was so freakin’ professional it made me want to scream.

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She stammers quietly, shooting another glance towards the doors and gnawing relentlessly at the corner of her lip.

We hadn’t heard a single peep from behind the doors, but whatever was going on in there had Ms. Sherry’s nerves on edge. She practically leapt at every single noise and slight creak of a nearby door.

“What kind of errands would I do?” I ask, moving slightly so that I was in the pretty woman’s line of sight again.

She was so distracted, barely paying any attention at all to what I said. I’d have to get the rundown of my responsibilities some other time, it would seem.

I still couldn’t believe I’d gotten this job. I’d known things were going to change for me. I’d just known it. I could barely contain the happiness that leapt up inside my tummy like bubbles of champagne. I was so overjoyed, in fact, that I didn’t even care that my new boss was the asshole who’d spilled coffee all over me. It was a little embarrassing to be caught in the same outfit twice, but hey, I hadn’t gotten my first paycheck yet. I’d have to make due until then.

I even had a little silver nameplate to sit in front of my computer. I love the way the letters are so straight and rigid, glinting Poppy Lewis across the smooth sheen. The only time I’d ever had anything like that was in kindergarten when we made name tags on folded sheets of colorful construction paper and propped them up at the front of our desks.

“Sometimes we need copies made or a meetings scheduled or mail addressed. It’s nothing difficult, but it is important that you get things done in a timely manner.” Absently, Reagan swipes the papers she’d just given me off the desk, clutching them to her chest as she recites lines she’s no doubt said a hundred times to the other hundred new hires before me, “We’ve got simple rules as well, no phone use on this floor because of classified business info, no distractions, no personal calls from our lines…” She trails off, abruptly realizing she’s taken my papers and hastily slapping them back on my desk with a clear of her throat.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, making Reagan’s eyebrow twitch slightly. Even barely paying attention, the lady was a stickler for the rules.

“Sorry.” I gush, cheeks flaming up slightly pink, “It’s probably my little sister.”

Dammit. Today is supposed a day for good impressions, and here I am breaking the rules within the first hour of my first shift. That had to be some kind of pathetic record.

Surprisingly, Reagan’s icy eyes soften a bit, “Oh, you’ve got a sister?”

“I do, her name is Mikayla. She’s eighteen…We’re kind of in an argument right now.” I giggle shyly, unsure just how much I should reveal. I was dying to rant about Miki moving out with her over-aged high school drop out of a boyfriend, but I didn’t have any close friends to talk through anything with. Taking care of Miki, slogging through school, and working full time had severely limited my relationships.

Reagan laughs, her voice a little tinkling bell, “I’ve got an older sister by eleven months.” She grins lopsidedly and I’m startled by it, her eyes falling to the side. Even though I barely knew Reagan, I knew a smile like this was rare.

“Eleven months?”

“Our parents wanted another one quick.” Reagan laughs again, shaking her head and scuffling the toe of her stiletto against the edge of the desk.

“Do you guys get along well? Sometimes I think Miki and I are just not meant to be friends.”

The woman’s smile fades and I feel guilty for pressing the conversation. Apparently my tense relationship with Mikayla was not a rare issue for sisters.

“Sisters are a piece of work, aren’t they?” I smile gently as my phone buzzes once more, “I’ll call her back in a few minutes.”

Miki had never returned home the day before. I’d stayed up practically all night wishing and waiting and hoping that she’d dance through that door like nothing had ever happened between us and we could forget that we were fighting at all. But she never had. I had no idea if she still wanted to move out, all I knew was that I hated the thought of returning to an empty apartment after work. We may not be the best of friends and our apartment may not be huge, but having her nearby was a comfort. I didn’t have to worry that she was safe. I didn’t have to worry where she was.

I could still remember that growing anxiety as the hours dragged on and my parents never arrived that day. Now I’d have to live in that reality every day. A shudder rolls up slowly up my spine, slithering through each of my vertebra like an icy snake.

“No, no.” Reagan responds hurriedly, tucking a lock of black hair behind her tan ear, “Go ahead… Just this once. Make sure you get started on your work though.” She winks, tapping my paperwork with a manicured finger before she turns and walks down the hall.

I stare after her in surprise before shaking my head and digging my phone out of the back pocket of my black slacks, watching as another text from Miki lights up the glowing screen.

I’m coming over today after school.

Like 3, k?

David is working.

Fingers dancing across the LED keypad, I type a quick and clumsy reply.

Can’t wait to see u!

Three little dots flash across the screen, lingering for a tantalizing ten seconds before vanishing. I bite my lip, waiting for her message to appear, but as the minutes pass it’s clear that Miki has zero intention of responding to me.

We were really fighting, weren’t we?

Sure, things had been terse since our parents died… but never so cold. Miki and I had always texted a lot. She’d never left me hanging like this before. I’d really managed to piss her off.

At least she was in school right now… that was something nice to cling to in all this mess.

Sighing, I slowly slide down into my chair, taking a rapturous moment to gaze around me at the bustling office. No one stared at me as though I didn’t belong, no one mocked me to their cubical neighbor. Somehow, miraculously, I fit in here.

I tug slowly at the papers, flicking through the pages momentarily. The jargon on the pages fluttered in front of me, blending into one mess of business lingo that I could not decipher. Inventory logs, budget analysis… was I really supposed to know how to complete all of this? I swallow thickly, flipping the pile of papers over so that the swirling Price logo is no longer staring at me with judgmental condescension.

What was I going to do? There was no way I’d be able to finish even a single page of this. I might as well enjoy my time behind this desk while it lasted. There was no way I was going to be allowed back tomorrow.

My phone rang, making me almost leap up from my desk before I hastily reached out and snatched it to my ear. Against the cool plastic of the desk phone, my fingers trembled slightly in nervousness. First the impossible paperwork, now a phone call from a potential client? My heart flutters in my chest, stomach dancing with butterflies that were ecstatic only an hour ago and now felt like they were turning to miserable cement stones.

“Um, Pie Corporation, AH, Price Corporation! … Poppy Lewis speaking.”

My forehead slaps down into my palm as I roughly bite back a groan of disappointment. Pie Corporation? Really?

Laughter chimes from the other end of the line as Reagan’s voice flows from the speaker, “I just wanted to see how you’d do.”

“Oh god, Ms. Sherry, I am so sorry, I’ll do better next time.” Heat rose along the back of my neck in mortification.

There was no way they were going to keep me around, not when I keep messing up on the most stupid things!
Reagan laughs again and I can imagine her flipping her long, silky hair over her shoulder, “It’s fine. I also wanted to ask if you needed help with the paperwork.”

“Seriously?” I breathe, the speaker going muffled under the exhale, “I was just looking at it and I’m so overwhelmed.”

Shit!

I should not have said that! Now Reagan was going to know that I couldn’t do my job. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut for once?

“I’ll be right there.” She responds coolly, the line going dead while I stared blankly down at my desk.

Would I at least get to keep my cute little nameplate?

A few seconds later, I heard the familiar click of tall heels and the scent of lemon grass shampoo as Reagan Sherry approaches my desk and slides a roller chair over beside me.

“Are you still on the phone?” She whispers, gesturing at the receiver I still clutch anxiously to my ear.

“Ah, um, thank you so much. Talk to you soon.” I sputter to the nonexistent person on the other line, slamming it down onto the desk and plastering a wild smile on my face.

Reagan arches an ebony brow but doesn’t say anything, picking up the stack of papers and shuffling through them.

“Alright, now I know this looks intimidating, but I promise it’s not as bad as it seems.” She sighs, separating a few of the papers and laying them before me, “You just double check the information to make sure that the math adds up and it’s labeled correctly.”

“Oh…” I pick up the sheets, glancing between them, “That’s all?”

Before Reagan can answer, the door to the conference room abruptly slams as the herd of grey haired men leave the office alone. Reagan leaps to her feet, watching as the shareholders pass us. Most ignore her, though one little chubby man gives her a little nod. Then, behind them all, comes the man whose wise words had gotten me the job yesterday.

“Dad?” Reagan frowns, “How was the meeting?”

His ice blue eyes skim over me as though I don’t exist before he looks at the dark haired woman.

“Well as you’d expect.” Mr. Sherry finally says with a shrug, turning on his polished heel and following the rest of the men towards the elevator.

 “What was that about?” I ask curiously as Reagan slowly sinks back down beside me, her eyes remaining locked on the conference hallway from which Grant Price still had yet to emerge.

“It’s a long story.” She mumbles, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, “I have a feeling you’ll hear all about it soon enough.”

“…?” Puzzled, I stare at her for a moment as she simply shrugs her shoulders and raises her eyebrows.

I suddenly got the feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that working in this office was not going to be the blissful retreat I’d so worked it up in my head to be.

Then, suddenly, the door creaks open and Grant Price trudges down the hallway towards us.

While before going into the room he was a looming, broad shouldered mountain of a man… he looked so defeated now, his arms hanging limp at his sides and his beautiful blue eyes sunken. Even though I was still sure he was a huge asshole, it made my heart bleed for him.

Just what had gone on in that meeting?

Across the room, Grant’s gaze locks on mine, his entire face going a ghastly shade of ivory.

“Grant what’s the matter?” Reagan whispers, her fingers reflexively curling around my wrist as we remain frozen in our hunched position over the papers. I stare at her hand on my arm, startled by the neediness in her touch. Even someone as aloof and poised as Reagan needed support?

“What happened?” She continues, voice rising a few octaves. I can practically feel her heart beating out of her own chest. Her hand tightens on me as though she’s holding on for dear life, like she’s afraid of getting washed out on a tide of emotion.

The blue eyed billionaire approaches slowly, looming so tall over our desk that he blocks out the overhead lights. I squint up at him, taking in the desolation in the lines of his chiseled face.

“You were right, Reags.” He murmurs, his entire face blank.

With glazed over eyes, he gazes between us, swallowing so thickly that his Adam’s apple leaps against his throat.

“Did they fire you?” She asks, releasing me quickly from her grasp.

Her voice has gone from gentle worry to anger. It was like she had a switch inside of her and you never knew which side you were going to get, “Did you get fucking fired, Grant?” Reagan still speaks with that high pitched shrillness that makes both me and our boss grimace.

 “No.” He finally sighs, running his hand through his hair.

As he moves, something stings my nostrils. Booze? Was he drinking in the office? I wrinkle my nose, leaning back away from him slightly. He’s clearly hungover, his eyes bloodshot and blurry. If he was fired, it was probably no one’s fault but his own.

Suddenly, he goes stiff, his eyes narrowing on Reagan dangerously, “Did you help your dad plan this whole thing?” He glares while Reagan leaps up to her feet.

She reaches out towards his arm in confusion but he jerks backwards.

“What are you talking about Grant?” She asks, “What are you saying?”

He growls in fury, lurching past us and storming down the hall.

Reagan takes off after him, moving shockingly fast in her high heels as she pounces on his door just as it swings shut.

Hesitantly I stand, taking a few uncertain paces after them. In the end, my nosy curiosity wins out and I creep closer to where the pair are arguing inside Mr. Price’s huge office.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t know about this ‘deal’ that your father has offered me, Reagan?” He snarls, pacing around his desk as though he’s a predatory shark and it’s his hapless victim, “Like you’re so innocent?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She insists, her eyes following his heated trail across the office, “What did Dad tell you? What does he want you to do? We can figure this out. We can make it work.”

Grant rubs a rough hand against the back of his neck, going abruptly still before he bangs a hand on his desk. I jump in surprise, both Reagan and Grant turning their attention towards me.

“Poppy,” The woman says quickly, rubbing one of her arms anxiously, “Why don’t you go get us all some coffees? I think that’ll be a big help for our moods.”

“No.” Grant mutters quickly, jabbing out a finger towards me in a way that made my heart drop to my feet, “Get in here.”

I lock eyes with Reagan, who says nothing but steps to the side to allow me into the office.

Hesitantly I inch forward until I’ve just barely crossed the threshold into his office. I swallow the thick lump in my throat, my hands folding tight in front of me. Anger rolls of his strong, lean body like a wave. It washes over me, drowning me in dark, ired flames.

 “What’s your name again?” The visibly irritated boss asks, sinking down into his chair behind the desk. He steeples his fingers before him, resting his forehead against his hands. He doesn’t look at me or Reagan, his shoulders rising and falling with each shallow breath he takes.

“Poppy. Lewis. Err, Poppy Lewis.”

“This is her first day, Grant. Does she really have to witness you having a breakdown?” Reagan sighs, half standing between the billionaire and I, “Can’t you save it until she’s been here a week or something.”

“I’m not having a breakdown.” The man snips, glaring at his office manager, “I asked her in because she is the key to this. Poppy can solve all of this.”

My throat goes dry in surprise.

What was he talking about? Reagan was right though, this was my very first day. The wrong move would get me booted from this place. I’d lose the money and the benefits and Miki would never be able to go to college. There was absolutely no way I could ever find a job as great as this one before she graduates.

I had to do whatever I could to stand out and be helpful. I didn’t care what it was.

“Um… I’m not sure what you need but I’m organized and creative and I’ll do anything to help out. Really. Anything.”

Grant gazes at me stiffly, his neck and broad shoulders so rigid I’m not even sure he’s breathing.

What was the worst thing that he could need? Someone to organize a business fundraiser or event? Someone to cold call sponsors? I could handle all that.

“That’s good to hear, Poppy.” He whispers, voice going gravelly and raw, “Because the board has decided that I need to find a wife, and I want you.”