Chapter Three
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After spending the last two hours walking the floor, talking to her direct reports and getting her Friday morning project updates, Sam managed to work off some of her nervousness.
Like usual, things appeared to be running smoothly, and her projects were on schedule, but her projects were always on schedule.
Her team might have to put in some extra hours in order to figure out a few defects, or overcome a couple of obstacles, but they always seemed to stay on target. Being on time was one of her pet peeves and she’d managed to instill the sense of timeliness in those who worked for her as well.
Armed with the information she needed to schedule the rest of her day, Samantha managed to get through most of her unanswered emails before opting to step out of the office for a quick bite.
There was a great Vietnamese restaurant just two blocks away that she and Liza liked to frequent. For the last few months, they’d managed to escape the nonstop shuffle of the office and go to lunch. Today she welcomed the chance to get her mind off of work.
After they’d eaten more than their fair share, Liza convinced her to run through the coffee shop for an afternoon caffeine fix. As she sat at her desk, drumming her fingers on the keyboard in front of her, Sam wondered if she should have bypassed the extra espresso shot.
She only had a few minutes to skim through her email, check to see if there were any fires she needed to put out as well as review the job description she would be discussing with Logan McCoy.
Feeling slightly frazzled, Sam pulled up the email James sent and opened the attachment to read through the details of the position.
Vice President of Project Operations.
Damn that was a long title.
Trying to stay focused on the words in front of her Sam couldn’t help but think about whether she had actually ever met Logan McCoy. She didn’t think she had, unless he had come through the San Antonio office at some point in the last few years. Being that his name was so familiar, surely she would remember having met him face to face.
It was unlikely she had actually been introduced though, since James often went to visit the Dallas office, at least twice a month, rather than have any of the big wigs show up here. Each month all of the VPs met with the President of Strategic Operations at one or more planning sessions usually held at the corporate office.
As her mind wandered farther and farther from the words on the monitor, Sam found herself reflecting back to the very first day she started on the job. It had been a fairly unremarkable day. Introductions to the company, the people, her work and then left to run through the requirements laid out and put together a plan by the end of the day for a particularly challenging project.
It was a welcome to the company type of project – one that would make or break someone as inexperienced as she was at the time. That had been a challenge, but she had been up to it in her new role as project manager. Nothing had slowed down since then, but how could it when she had taken on the role of director four years before. Nope, nothing slowed down, with the exception of her social life.
As she read through the brief job description, she realized she didn’t feel any better about making a decision. Sure, she was qualified. She was familiar with managing projects and people; it had been her life for the last decade or so. Her biggest concern was related to the actual projects in question.
Surprisingly, the short blurb attached to the email didn’t tell her much besides she would be managing people and projects. Not that her current position was much different, except for the level of individuals and apparently the level of visibility according to James.
At this rate, she could probably stay in her comfortable job with the people she had now and be just as successful – although it may take her twice as long to get to where she wanted to be.
Which was where?
If she sat down and thought about it, which she really hadn’t, she didn’t know what else she would want to be doing. The pace in Dallas was probably twice as fast which meant the pressure was twice as high.
The fact was, her current position allowed her to get up close and personal with what she enjoyed most. There was nothing more exciting than digging into code and breaking it down or building it up into something bigger than they could have imagined.
She had just leaned back in her chair and was sorting through her email when Trevor knocked lightly on her open door and then sauntered in like he owned the place.
Trevor Michaels, the bad boy of the San Antonio office, was one of her prized employees; the one who would stay all night with her if they knew they could break through an obstacle no one else seemed to be able to get around. He took his job as seriously as she did and since the first day they started working together five years earlier, they’d gotten along seamlessly.
“Hey.” Trevor’s deep voice flowed silkily through the small confines of her office.
“Hey, yourself.” She replied, keeping her eyes trained on the email she just opened. “What’s up?”
Samantha learned long ago she had to be able to multitask or she would never get anything accomplished. With the number of people who wandered in and out of her office throughout the day, if she didn’t keep her focus, she’d be working double the amount of hours she did already.
Thankfully, her team was comfortable enough with her just to walk in at any time, and they even tolerated her ability to perform multiple things at once.
“Rumor has it you’re on your way to Dallas.” Trevor made himself comfortable in the chair directly across from her.
She didn’t have her bags packed just yet, but she didn’t have to think too hard to figure out who had started that rumor. Glancing up from the monitor to assess his rugged facial features looking for a clue as to where the conversation was heading, Samantha didn’t see any contradiction in his expression from that in his voice. He sounded happy.
“That’s the rumor, I suppose.” That was another thing she liked about Trevor, he was straight forward and right to the point.
“That’s a very interesting rumor. If you’re nice, I just might give you a clue as to who is spreading that nasty gossip. Have you accepted the position?”
Smiling at his attempt to alleviate the tension she knew was coming off of her in waves, Sam stared at Trevor. Looking at him now, still just as handsome as the day she met him, it was hard to believe she and Trevor had actually attempted to date about five years ago.
Thankfully, they’d learned right away they were better friends than anything else. It worked out for the best because a few months after they had gone out, he met Jennifer, the woman who was now his wife. The couple dated for about a year before getting married, with a son born fourteen months later. Samantha had even been invited to the wedding.
“Not yet. I’m waiting to discuss more with Logan McCoy this afternoon.” She said as she glanced down at her watch. Thirty minutes and counting.
“Logan McCoy? Damn. He’s calling you?” Trevor asked with a hint of admiration in his voice.
“That’s what James told me this morning. Why?”
“No reason.” Trevor’s grin was mischievous. “Will you be working directly for him?”
“I would assume so, but what aren’t you telling me?” She didn’t know who else a VP in the support operations department would report to, but she wasn’t going to mention that to Trevor.
“Honestly, nothing. I’ve heard some things about him, but nothing that couldn’t be said to his face. The rumor is he’s tough to work for.”
“What is it with you and rumors? You’re worse than an old woman the way you go spouting off at the mouth the minute you hear something interesting.” Samantha chided Trevor good naturedly. “But, tough can be a good thing. I think the same thing has been said about me before. Maybe even by you.”
And that was probably the understatement of the year.
Trevor laughed in return and then ran his hand through his short dark hair. “On a serious note, do you have any juicy gossip for me?”
“I’m not sure you can say serious and gossip in the same sentence. What, you don’t have enough to fuel the National Enquirer for a decade?” His prominent blue eyes sparkled as he sat with his elbows resting on his knees and his body leaning forward, closer to her desk.
She could see he was eagerly anticipating more information. Information she didn’t currently have. “I don’t know anything right now but, I’ll be sure to tell you more as soon as I know. Or, you could just stand at the door, hold a glass up to it and share all of the news the minute I get it.”
“Well, this was terribly disappointing, Ms. Kielty. I expected so much more out of you.” He replied with a smile as he stood from the chair and turned toward the open door. “But, seriously, the reason I came wasn’t to share all my insider trading information, I really did come for a reason.” He laughed as he placed a hand on the door knob. “Good luck, Sam. You won’t need it, but I’ll tell you anyway. I knew good things would be coming your way soon. Let me know when you know something.”
“Thanks, Trev. Hey, can you shut the door behind you?”
She watched as Trevor pulled the door shut behind him, suddenly hoping he was in the running for her position. He would make a terrific director and the whole office knew it. But, she didn’t have time to think about that right now. She was nervous. More nervous than she probably should have been, but there was no way to calm the rioting butterflies taking flight in her stomach.
Grabbing the makeup compact out of her desk drawer, Sam powdered her nose and applied a coat of gloss to her lips. Just when she was putting the compact back in the drawer, her desk phone rang. She glanced down at the caller ID and noticed it was coming from Logan McCoy’s desk.
“Samantha Kielty.” She greeted as professionally as she could muster.
“Ms. Kielty, this is Deanna, Mr. McCoy’s admin. I’m calling to set up the video conference with Mr. McCoy.”
“Good afternoon, Deanna.” She replied to the chipper voice as she leaned back in her chair. She noted the time was fifty five after the hour. If anything, this girl was seriously efficient.
“Ms. Kielty, could you please provide me with your computer’s IP address?”
“Please call me Sam.” She prompted and then dutifully read off the IP address for the video conference.
“Thank you, Sam. Mr. McCoy will join the call momentarily.” The happier than should be allowed voice responded.
Samantha sat motionless, watching her computer monitor as the information came up on the screen. The live picture of herself in the bottom right hand corner gave her pause, and she fought back the urge to smooth her hair. She didn’t know how long it would take for the call to be set up, so she sat patiently, staring at herself on the computer screen. She was relieved she hadn’t chosen to dress too casually that day.
Normally she wore jeans and a t-shirt on Friday, but she had opted to put on the new outfit she purchased the previous weekend, a form fitting emerald green collared shirt her mother said made her eyes stand out, and a pair of very flattering jeans she found at Buckle. Her jewelry was minimal as always, but she donned the new earrings her mother suggested on their little shopping trip.
A moment later, Sam was staring at the image of a man she presumed was Logan McCoy, and her breath hitched in her throat.
She didn’t know what she expected, but the man staring back at her was as far from it as he could have been. Surely this wasn’t the real McCoy, Samantha thought, unable to hold back the laugh. Wow, hopefully the cheesy didn’t come out in the interview.
“Good afternoon, Samantha.” The deep baritone rang through her office as she stared back at the image.
The saying “too handsome for words” was an understatement when it came to the man on the monitor. He was devastatingly handsome with his short, dark hair and his penetrating hazel eyes. His face was flawless, freshly shaven and intensely masculine. His nose slightly crooked, and his cheekbones defined, giving him a rugged edge, not the baby faced executive appearance she often thought of.
More bad boy than high paid executive. Not a man she would expect as a president of anything.
Nope, she was expecting someone with gray hair, a receding hairline and possibly a little extra weight. Definitely not the sinfully attractive image reflected back at her from the screen.
Sam realized she couldn’t sit there and not say anything. Thankfully, her brain functioned well enough to greet him back so she didn’t look like a total idiot. “Good afternoon.”
At this point, she’d be lucky he even still considered her after she sat mute and ogling his image for no telling how long.