Chapter 2 #2
No wonder someone like Nate would even find himself here. Anger and humiliation burned in the hollow of Connor’s chest. But like the coward he was, Nate wouldn’t even look at him.
A long moment passed between them, neither speaking. Awkward seconds ticked on into endless space, the walls of Alarie Inc. too constricting, too
And Connor decided that what he needed was a break. He needed to see the sky.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” he said flatly. “I’ll bring you another espresso.”
And Connor didn’t wait for Nate to speak before he slipped out of the office suite, his legs moving before his brain could formulate any kind of plan.
After seven years at Alarie Inc., he navigated the maze of hallways making up their corporate headquarters as easily as a sailor on the waters of his homeland.
Along glass walls displaying finely decorated conference rooms, past interns and principals and their assistants, the pale blue walls and gray carpet beneath his feet was a distant blur until Connor found himself at the elevator.
Where to? No one asked.
Up? To the roof?
He pictured it for a moment, what it would be like. It’s still morning and the air would feel crisp, maybe even a little chilly. The sun on his face, damp railing–
The elevator chimed, doors sliding open. He stared for a moment before the doors slid closed.
No, he’s not going to the roof. What he needed was solid ground beneath his feet.
He took a breath, then another, then a third. But it did nothing.
Another chime. The elevator doors in front of him slid open again, but it wasn’t empty this time.
Inside was a kid probably no older than twenty-one, still carrying a bit of babyfat to his cheeks.
He was wearing a shabby suit he probably pulled out of the clearance rack at JC Penney and clearly doing his best to look comfortable despite a bad haircut that had mangled his brown hair.
It was almost like looking into a mirror to the past and seeing himself.
“Going down?” The kid asked, his finger hovering over the button panel.
Connor nods before stepping inside.
“What floor?”
“One.” Connor watched as he pressed the round button, the panel lighting up. As the elevator began to move, he leaned back against the wall with a sigh, all too aware that the kid was staring at him.
Great.
“Can I ask you-?” The kid started.
“Hm?”
“You know where I could…” His voice trailed off, but the subtle scratch of his nose communicated the rest.
Connor’s lips twitched up, amused. Some things never changed.
“Third floor. Guy named Tan Atkins. Works in finance.” He gave the kid a look, studying him. “Your first day?”
“Yeah,” The kid answered, clearly trying to hold his head high.
“Word of advice. Don’t. Not today.”
“Oh- It's not for me. It’s for my executive.” The kid shifted his weight from foot to foot, drawing attention to the white Nikes he was hiding under his slightly-too-long slacks.
Connor’s expression softened.
“Yeah? Who’d they assign you to?” He asked, watching the floors slowly tick down on the display near the door. 6… 5…
“Maria Ronaldo.”
Connor’s lips twitched up. He couldn’t help but feel a little envious. Maybe things would have been different for him if he’d been assigned to her when he was this kid’s age.
“You’re in good hands. Take care of her, keep her happy. She’ll promote you out if you're good.”
“You think so?”
Connor nodded.
The elevator chimed, the door sliding open.
Even though they’re not supposed to, Connor decides to offer the kid his hand to shake.
“Connor Hayes. I’m on the sixth floor, if you need anything.”
“Liam Reyes,” Liam blurted out, accepting Connor’s handshake with a firm one of his own. “Seventh floor. Thanks. I mean it.”
He scurried off, likely on an errand of some kind of another. Including fetching her coke. Connor shook his head before setting out for the break room.
Coffee.
It was tempting to make his own trip up to the third floor for a dimebag. More than tempting. Maybe it would be the balm he needed to go back up to the sixth floor and face Nate again.
But Connor only started up the espresso machine, watching steam billowing from the vent into whole milk, frowning as he stirred the milk with a small metal whisk.
He really thought he had been the ideal candidate for Investor Relations Director. Why wouldn’t he have been? Connor had already been doing the job half the time while for Devore. And in that last year with his first executive, too.
Seven years of attending meetings, writing memos, building presentations and reports, acting as an intermediary between his principal and department heads and managing risks and navigating investor concerns, all the while executive after executive promised him that if he just tried harder, if he applied himself more diligently, if he presented more professionally, then he’d see himself at a higher level.
Seven years.
“We’d like to see a little more experience before we move you up.”
Isaac Berkshire had been the one to tell him that. He’d also been the one to tell Connor, “You understand the importance of ensuring a unified front, don’t you?” during the investigation into Devore’s conflicts of interest.
It stung, more than Connor even wanted to admit to himself. Worse than anything Devore did to him, this hurt.
The espresso machine beeped and Connor was back in his body, making Nate’s coffee. And then, he decided, he’ll make one for himself as well.