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The Art of Love by Kayla C. Oliver (12)

Chapter Twelve

Anthony

 

 

It was Thursday and I couldn’t wait until this week was finally over. Everything that could have gone wrong with my employees did when someone managed to spread a disgusting viral plague through the office, leaving 90 percent of my staff completely incapacitated with the flu. I was so used to running the office that taking a step backward and doing all the work was hell for me. My secretary told me it was good for me and it would help me remember what the inside of the company did, but I just saw it as an inconvenience.

That day in particular, I had already met with six clients, signed two contracts, held three meetings, and it was just lunchtime. I had another new client to sit down with in a few, and I hadn’t even started to look over their file. From what I was told, it was some kind of gym, so I figured the owner would just fill me in when they got there. In the meantime, I couldn’t get Eliza off my mind. She had only sent me one text since I received her card, and from the sound of it, she was blowing me off. I didn’t blame her. I had stood her up, and even though the reasoning behind it wasn’t some pathetic excuse, she wasn’t there to see what happened.

Even though I had sent the dinner and card to Eliza, I still went to bed every night feeling incredibly guilty for standing her up. She had been so excited, and the way it played out, with me texting her just hours before, looked almost like I set her up for failure. But, that being said, it was over and in the past, and unless someone had invented a time machine, there was nothing I could do at that point to change what happened.

She had sent me such a sweet card back and went out of her way to text me, so I had a hard time believing she wasn’t interested. I knew she had a lot on her hands with the studio she ran, and I was trying to convince myself that her lack of communication was solely based on the fact that she was busy and didn’t have the extra time to set aside for dating. She was so amazing, though, and as much as I wanted to keep going with my day and ignoring the constant chatter in my brain, Eliza was stuck there right at the forefront of my thoughts.

I reached down and grabbed the lunch I had packed from my bag. I didn’t even have time to run from the office on my lunch break and eat somewhere. I got tired of skipping lunch, so I made sure my secretary knew I needed a lunch break, even if it was twenty minutes, and I packed what I could come up with from my cupboards. Today my lunch looked like my mother had packed it before school. I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple, a bag of chips, and a Diet Coke. I laughed at myself as I pulled my sandwich from the ziplock bag. I swore I was living in the twilight zone.

I looked up as the secretary knocked on the door and entered, carrying a stack of files. They were all the new clients I had either seen that day or was about to see. She set one down in front of me and the others in my file bin.

“That’s your next client,” she said, smiling. “Can I get you anything?”

“A cure for the flu maybe,” I said with a sigh.

“Suck it up.” She laughed. “You’ll feel accomplished when everyone comes back.”

“Right,” I said. “I do know there will be no downsizing for a very long time.”

“See,” she said. “You already saved hundreds of jobs.”

I shook my head and smiled as she walked back out of the room, closing the door behind her. I looked over the synopsis of the file stapled to the front. It was a managing partner of a yoga studio, looking to bring in more business for the winter months. Great, someone else to remind me of Eliza. I finished up my lunch and went to grab the folder to review the information, but my secretary called over the loudspeaker.

“Mr. Cartucci, your one-o’clock client is waiting in the conference room,” she said.

“All right,” I sighed. “Coming now.”

I grabbed the folder and walked out of the office, shaking my head at my assistant. She laughed and picked up the ringing phone. I continued down the hall thinking about the days when this was my life, only in a smaller office and with way fewer employees. I didn’t normally ever handle new clients unless they were large multimillion-dollar accounts. I definitely didn’t handle yoga studios; that was usually left for the interns. There I was, though, walking toward the conference room, thinking about how I hoped all of my sick employees were taking their medicine because they needed to get their asses back to work.

Making my way to the conference room, I glanced over and watched as the cleaning crew sprayed and cleaned every single desk. If I was going to be the last man standing, I was not going to catch whatever was going around. I had too much to do and too many people counting on me to come through with results. Every minute that the staff was gone was money wasted, and I didn’t like to lose money.

I stopped off in the employee lounge and grabbed two cups of coffee, figuring whoever was in there would want something. I filled the cups and grabbed some cream and sugar, though I took my coffee black. I looked down at the file as the Keurig finished up brewing. I reached forward to open the file, but before I could, my secretary stuck her head in the door, breathing heavily.

“Mr. Stillworth from the department store is on line three,” she said. “He just wanted to confirm the legal process for getting the contracts signed.”

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the phone, pressing the button and answering. Mr. Stillworth owned a chain of department stores that were all over the world. We had created a marketing scheme that would allow us to handle advertising for every single location. It had been quite the undertaking to coordinate it, but it was finally ready and all we needed was his signature. I calmed his fears and assured him the documents would be at his office the next morning.

I hung up the phone and grabbed the coffee and files, heading to the conference room. Once I was inside, no one would bother me. This client with the yoga studio seemed more and more enticing as I fielded stupid phone calls from businessmen that had lost their edge. I turned around and gave my secretary instructions to get those contracts to his office, even if Legal had to walk them over to him themselves. She nodded and rushed off. I sighed as I turned back and rounded the corner, walking into the conference room and letting the large glass doors close behind me. I didn’t look up, just walked.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said, turning to the client. “Everyone has the flu so it seems I—”

I froze in my spot, unable to move, unable to speak, and my mouth was hanging open wide. I started at the six-inch heels, moved my eyes up her tight, strong, panty-hose-covered legs, over her figure-hugging black pencil skirt, across the tight satin button-up blouse, and to her shocked face. It was Eliza, standing in the conference room waiting for a consultation. The look on her face screamed that she had no idea that this was my company. I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t move.

Finally, she broke the shock and closed her mouth, clearing her throat. I shook my head and opened the file, reading Zen Studios and Eliza’s name. I shook my head and started to laugh, feeling like this was some kind of joke. She furrowed her brow and sat down, tucking her skirt beneath her.

“This is you?” I pointed at the file.

“I had no idea you owned this place,” she said, trying to keep her dignity. “I’m surprised you are the one speaking with me.”

How insane was that? Eliza looked for a marketing firm in New York City, and she happened to pick mine. On top of that, she happened to pick mine during flu season, on the first day in years that I was assigned to see new clients. It was like the Universe finally cut me some damn slack. I started to chuckle again as I walked to the table and dropped the file into my seat.

“It’s flu season,” I said. “I have to take care of my company, so here I am, at your disposal.”

“Oh,” she said blushing. “I’m sorry about your employees.”

“They will be back,” I said, sitting down across from her.

She looked absolutely freaking stunning with her hair flattened down, her makeup perfect, and her outfit making her look like a goddess. I had some serious issues with getting her off my mind, and now it was going to be worse. Don’t get me wrong, I was really glad to see her; it forced her to be face-to-face with me, but I also knew I had to be professional. She looked slightly uncomfortable, but I figured it was more from catching her off guard than anything else. She was absolutely amazing, even completely out of her comfort zone.

“You look gorgeous,” I said, smiling at her.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, fiddling with her papers.

It was amusing to me how nervous I made her, and though that seemed cruel of me, what it really was, was a sign as to how much she liked to be around me. I bit my lips as I watched her get a grasp on the situation, and wondered what was going on in that beautiful little head of hers. I was being childish, but I couldn’t help it. I was excited that she had surprised me like that, even if it was unintentional. There was no one else in the entire world that I could have wished to walk through that door. She was exactly the breath of fresh air that I really needed. However, having her there for a consultation was not enough, and I realized the amount of time I would get to see her if I could get her to hire my firm.

I sat up in my chair and opened the file, reading through the notes. Immediately I pulled together my professional nature, and I could see her staring at me from the corner of her eye. She wasn’t sure how to take my actions, but I knew that professionalism and results would land her as a client. Her ambitions were too high to turn down the opportunity to grow the business leaps and bounds. No, she would put her personal feelings aside, for now, and jump on board with the company. Then, I could get her file permanently assigned to me and have a seriously good excuse to be around her. It sounded sneaky, but I didn’t care. It was whatever I could do at that point to keep her interest.

“Do you have the capability to hire more instructors?”

“Yes,” she said, confused. “But I need clients.”

“And from where I’m sitting if you go with us, you’ll have more clients than you know what to do with,” I said, smiling.

“Tell me more,” she said, leaning forward.

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