It was a misty gray Seattle morning when I parked my car at work, and the combination of an extra-large coffee and the classic rock I had been blaring on the radio had done next to nothing in terms of waking me up.
I clambered into the lift, half-asleep and dreading work. I barely even noticed that Johnathan was next to me.
“Long night?” Johnathan asked.
I sighed and yawned. “That redhead was relentless.”
Johnathan and I had grown apart a bit since he had started dating Samantha Doyle, the CEO of a company we had acquired called Wordsworth. We always used to hang out together on weekends, going to high-end night clubs to pick up girls and brag about our jobs at Torver, but since the start of their relationship he had changed. He was a relationship guy now, complete with cozy dinner parties and weekend trips to Vancouver. I had even heard a rumor that he might propose sometime soon.
It was nauseating.
There was a weird tension in the office when I went to go get my coffee at ten o’clock, and not just that strange week after New Year’s energy where everyone’s either hungover or trying some new diet that’s making them irritable as all hell. First of all, everyone was gathered in the reception area, pretending to be busy with something. They all seemed to be strangely alert, and I watched as everyone turned to me as I walked in, like I was the wrong person walking into a surprise party.
“What’s going on?” I asked Marissa, one of our board members, and she signaled for me to come closer so she could whisper.
“Sabryna’s brought some friend in…some sweet little small-town girl…and she’s trying to convince Johnathan to give her a job,” Marissa said.
“And they’re in there now?”
“Yup.”
“Yikes. Really? She thinks that’s going to work?”
I guess I understood why everyone was crowded in here now. Sabryna had some major nerve to bring in a stranger, and probably not a qualified one, and just straight up ask for a job. Johnathan was a kind man, but he wasn’t insane. It was a dull Monday morning, and I really couldn’t blame my coworkers for not wanting to miss out on any potential drama.
All I could hear from inside the door were a faint murmur of voices, and so far, nothing sounded too interesting. The door cracked open, and out walked Johnathan, Sabryna, and…well, it must have been her.
“Everyone,” Johnathan said, barely noticing that we were all already conveniently gathered in the reception area. “This is Eliza Cameron, and she’s just come in from South Dakota. She’s going to be a general assistant to the rest of you—so please let her know if you have anything that needs doing. I expect you to make her feel welcome.”
An awkward silence fell over the room. Good lord, she certainly did look like she was from a place as desolate as South bloody Dakota. She was of medium height with large brown eyes, olive skin, and mousy-colored light brown hair that came down just below her shoulders with a slight curl. The outfit she wore for what I suppose was a job interview of sorts was barely even business appropriate—cheap looking black dress pants and a white sweater, embroidered with tiny pink flowers. Her hair was arranged in a bun that was already falling out of place.
“Hi!” Eliza said, high pitched but quiet, and waved her hand in a quick, timid, and almost microscopic motion. The second-hand embarrassment was already overwhelming.
Seconds passed, and still no one knew exactly what to say. This was an unprecedented move from Johnathan, and I watched as my coworkers stared at him, eyes full of questions, as if Johnathan had just introduced us to his new pet alligator.
“Sabryna!” Johnathan said, turning to her. “Come back in for a second, I need to show you how I want these new spreadsheets formatted.”
The two of them disappeared back into Johnathan’s office, and in the split second that I had turned to watch them, all of my other coworkers had suddenly dispersed.
Except, of course, Eliza.
I turned towards her and gave her a polite smile. “Cassidy Evans,” I said, and held out my hand.
“Eliza Cameron,” she said, and held hers out to meet it. She seemed calmer now that everyone else, Johnathan especially, had exited the room.
“You’re British?” she asked, and once again I was shocked at how quickly Americans are to bring that up the second they meet me, as if I had an extra arm.
“Guilty,” I said. “And what brings you here from South Dakota, besides you know, not being in South Dakota.”
She bit her lip, and looked down at the floor, and I wondered why this question was so tricky for her.
“Just a change of pace,” she said, and smiled up at me. “I’m living with Sabryna for a while, she’s my best friend from college.” I had a funny feeling that this wasn’t the entire story.
“Let me show you around the office,” I said, bringing her into the break room. “It takes an expert to figure out how to work all of the fancy Swiss coffee machines that Johnathan is always buying, so I may as well show you now.”
Eliza smiled up at me. I had to admit that there was an undeniable goodness about her, an innocence, that kind of intrigued me. She seemed as if she had been untouched by life and grief and experience. You didn’t find girls like her in Seattle very often, or in London, for that matter. Despite her initial awkwardness, she was really trying her best, and I liked that about her.
“And here we have the refrigerator,” I said, opening the door with a flourish. “Always sticky-note your lunches, always keep the door shut, you know the deal.” I tried to be the one who gave new employees the initial tour and run-through—I liked to get the men on my side and the women intrigued. But Eliza—well, Eliza was just a flat-out curiosity. What was she even doing here?
“And it’s just your luck,” I said, turning the corner into the hallway. “It’s bagel Monday!” I pointed at a cart in the hallway filled with a selection of different artisan bagels alongside eight different flavored tubs of cream cheese spread, smoked salmon, capers, and a miniature toaster.
“Goodness,” Eliza said, staring at the plate of smoked salmon. “How do you guys afford all this? At my last job, I was lucky just to find a bag of chips.”
“Johnathan cares a lot about employee satisfaction, and,” I leaned down to whisper to her. “Just generally showing off.”
Eliza giggled, and I grinned. As she moved I noticed that she had quite a figure going on underneath the cheap, grandmotherly looking outfit she had put together. She had an ample but fit bum and breasts to match, and a tiny waist in between. I thought of some of the lingerie I had gifted to women in the past, and couldn’t help but have a passing thought that she would look superb in any of the lacy numbers.
“So, do you have a boyfriend back home?” I asked, more out of habit than the fact that I was interested. This girl didn’t seem like the type to go for a classic, Cassidy-style hookup, but I still had to know.
“Oh!” Eliza said, and blushed. “It’s um…it’s complicated, actually.” She turned toward the bagel cart and began spreading lemon flavored cream cheese onto a bagel.
“Really?” I said, perplexed. “You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who is into ‘complicated’, no?”
“No, not usually,” Eliza said, delicately arranging a small quantity of smoked salmon on her bagel and finishing it off with a sprinkling of capers, which rolled off the plate in her nervous hands. “I just um…”
“It’s alright,” I said. “No need to explain complications to me, trust me.”
“Thanks,” she said, and smiled up at me gratefully.
“So, what brings you here?” she asked, as I led her into the copy room, which, as a ‘general assistant to everybody’, whatever the hell that was, she would probably be spending quite a bit of time in. “From England, I mean.”
“Oh,” I said, and gave her the answer I always gave women. “Adventure,” I said, and winked at her. She blushed, and I felt a hint a smugness.
“Hm,” Eliza said, bravery awakening in her eyes. “I think you’re just running away from your parents who were silly enough to give you a girl’s name.”
“A what? I gave myself this name, thank you very much.”
“Ooohh,” Eliza said, biting her tongue in mockery. “That’s worse.”
“It’s after Butch Cassidy, if you must know,” I said with authority.
Eliza laughed as she examined the buttons on the copy machine. “Goodness, if you’re as posh as you sound, your parents must hate you for that one.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t I know it.”
Eliza gave me a sympathetic smile as I showed her to the end of the hall, to one of the larger storage closets that wasn’t currently being used for anything. She opened the door and I was shocked to find a tiny desk, taking up nearly the entire space.
“I guess this is the only place they have for me right now,” Eliza said, and shrugged. “It’ll have to do.”
I tried not to show my obvious dismay. The closet contained just the desk, an old one that looked more like a cafeteria table, not the nice mahogany ones the rest of us had, and a tiny pencil holder with a few pens. And of course, being a closet, there were no windows. Even the lowest level employee at Torver got their own office with all the works. This was just depressing.
“Well,” I said, running a cautious hand through my stubble. “I suppose with your addition to the company being so…last minute, this is what we had.”
“I’m okay, really,” Eliza said, and smiled up at me. Her eyes were a lovely, warm coffee brown that reminded me of warm earth on the ground of a garden. “I’m not used to the fancy Torver Corporation treatment, remember? I’m happy just to have something to do.”
“Speaking of,” I said, and dropped a stack of papers on her desk. “Kirk, our lawyer, wants you to alphabetize these, I believe.”
“Oh, fun.” Eliza said without even a hint of sarcasm. Her good girl optimism was almost nauseating, even at this point.
“Good luck,” I said, shutting the door. “And let me know if you need anything, anything at all.” Eliza gave me one last smile and I left.
I finally shut myself into my own office, feeling a bit guilty about my gorgeous views of the city, my mini-fridge, and my expensive ergonomic office chair. I almost wanted to invite her to work in my office out of pity, but everyone in the office would think I had, well, impure intentions.
I was having trouble focusing and could only concentrate long enough to reply to a few emails. My curiosity about Eliza was drowning out everything else. Who was the good little American country girl a few doors down…why was she here, and why would such an uncomplicated-looking girl hint at having a romantic life that was so full of…well, complications?