37
Emmy
It was Tuesday morning. This time last week I'd been on my way to the airport. Now I marched along the sidewalk on my way to work, a cup of Armand's strong Colombian cappuccino in hand, and tried not to think about Trystan.
I actually wished we hadn't slept together. It had been incredible, of course, but if we hadn't, I'd still be texting him. Right now I'd probably send him some kind of one-week anniversary of losing his phone to a crazy girl text message. Heck, I might even get really wordy and write him an email. We'd laugh. And flirt. Who knew? We might have even had a few more sexy phone calls. And I would have thought they were mind-blowing because I would be in blissful ignorance of how much more life-altering actually being with him in the flesh was.
But instead my phone was dead silent.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and entered my office.
Steven, my boss, was standing at the railing, looking over the lobby. "Nice of you to make it in."
Looking at the clock on my phone, I noticed I was exactly on time, so I ignored him and nodded to the new receptionist we hired a few weeks after our last one, Trina, lost her job. She handed me a couple of leads who'd called in and pinged our website. Then in an instant I decided something. "Steven, do you have a moment?" I asked, looking up at him. "I'd like to talk to you."
He looked annoyed and checked his own watch. "I think I can spare a few."
"Great." I tossed my empty coffee in the recycling can and trotted up the stairs, heading past him into his office. He had a lovely big window overlooking the old courthouse on East Bay Street. The room was far too big for the little amount of work he actually did.
I took a seat before he could offer. He pulled the door closed and headed around his desk. "Everything all right?" he asked, looking wary.
"Not really." I shook my head and made an unimpressed moue with my mouth. "You see, I've come to the realization I'm pretty indispensable around here. I love my job, and I really enjoy getting to know the clients." I tilted my head to the side. "Their needs, their wants," I listed. "Trying to get them on the map of the Charleston scene within their budget. I live and breathe my job, and I'm good at it."
Steven was quiet.
"Right?" I asked.
"Yes, you are," he allowed. "But, I have to say—"
"And you know I get approached all the time by recruiters from larger holding companies looking for someone to run the face of their hotels and restaurants?"
Steven sat upright but seemed to pretend to be shifting in his chair. He straightened a pen on his desk, and his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
I waited him out to see what he had to say to that. But it looked as if he wasn't going to say anything. My earlier bravado that prompted me to seek this conversation began to fade. Why had I felt strong again? Oh, because I was thinking of my text chats with Trystan and remembering when he said he thought my boss didn't seem to be able to run his company without me.
I swallowed.
But Trystan said a lot of things. And a lot of them were probably simply meant to flatter and flirt.
"Are you resigning?" Steven asked.
Oops. This wasn't the outcome I foresaw at all. What had I done? How could I move David if I'd lost my job? Had I played chicken and lost? I needed to hedge. If I said yes, he could accept. No and I lost all my power. "Well—"
"Look, Emmaline . . ." Steven scrubbed a hand down his face. "I was waiting to tell you this until after we won the work on Friday, but obviously that didn't happen because the client cancelled. But no matter, you have certainly earned your reputation around here. I wanted to offer you the position of vice president . . . it would come with a pay raise. Modest, but a raise nonetheless."
I thought my mouth dropped open, I wasn't sure. So I made an effort to close it, and it snapped shut. I hadn't even had to ask for a pay raise yet. I'd been busy debating in my head whether this had been a bad idea. Then I thought he was going to usher me out the door with a pat on the back. And now he was offering me a promotion? He was definitely thinking fast.
"I can see that wasn't quite enough." He sighed, looking more disturbed at my silence than I'd ever seen him. "We can't afford to lose you. Your salary was going to increase by five percent. I'll make it ten?"
I sucked my lips between my teeth as I pretended to believe he'd really been planning on giving me a raise.
"Fifteen," Steven said, outbidding himself. He stood up and paced to the window.
His action jerked me into the moment. "Twenty," I said. "And my own office. I can wear what I want and no high heels. And five additional personal days off a year, no questions asked."
Steven crossed his arms as he turned. "Okay."
What? That was easy. "As a company-wide policy," I tacked on, gaining even more confidence. "We all need days we don't account for to deal with sick family members or unexpected appointments." Trina, the receptionist, could have done with those.
"Don't push it. You can have five extra. Anyone below VP level can have three extra."
Elation was ballooning up inside me, making me want to shout and scream in happiness, but with all my might I tried to keep a straight face. "Deal," I croaked and stood.
Steven's shoulders slumped. "I don't know where I can carve out an office."
"This one could probably be divided into two." I smiled broadly. "I do love the view." I nodded out the window to the courthouse. "Justice and fairness and all that. It's inspiring."
My phone that I still had clutched in my hand began ringing. It was David's facility number in Rockaway. "Sorry, I have to take this," I told Steven hurriedly. "And yes, it's a personal call." I turned and left. "Hello?"
"Emmy, it's Penny from Rockaway Nursing and Rehabilitation." My insides always lurched when I got a call like this, expecting bad news. If it was Penny who called and not D'Andre it usually wasn't good.
"Penny. Hi, is everything okay?"
"It's wonderful," she said. "Have you had a call from the facility in Summerville?"
I frowned. "No?"
"They're making room for David."
"What?" I covered my mouth with my hand. My eyes stung as relief swamped me, making me feel weak. I closed my eyes. "For real?"
"Yes. For real. They may be able to accept him as soon as next week."
"Oh my goodness. How . . .?"
"No idea. But let us know as soon as you speak to them because we'll have to officially stop his Medicaid here in order for you to apply for it there. There's no overlap."
"That's the scary part," I said. But oh my God, I'd just gotten a raise. I might be able to do this.
"Yes," she agreed. "But just think how happy David'll be to see you more often. It'll all work out. I made sure to let the administrator in Summerville know we needed to file the paperwork as quickly as possible."
My phone beeped with an incoming call. A quick check told me it was a South Carolina number. "This might be them on the other line, Penny."
"Okay, honey, call me back later."
"Thank you. Thank you so much." I switched over. "Hello?"
"Miss Dubois? I'm calling from Magnolia Meadows in Summerville."
To: tmontgomery
From: edubois
Subject: L?
Dear Trystan L. Montgomery
. . .
. . .
I clicked the small red X in the upper corner of the email. A pop-up box appeared. Did I want to delete this message? No. But I didn't know what the hell to say. Asking what the L stood for in his name was probably not the most appropriate way to start. I clicked Cancel and tried again.
To: tmontgomery
From: edubois
Subject: Thank you
Dear Trystan
. . .
. . .
Oh my God. Why was this so hard?