Chapter Six #2
I tried to answer honestly without telling the whole truth. “He was my calculus tutor my freshman year in college.” That was the truth.
She tapped her finger against her lip. “Why do I get the feeling those were private lessons?”
“Delfia!”
“Fine, you don’t have to tell me, but I have a feeling it’s going to get really interesting around here.”
I didn’t even bother with a rebuttal. I let her walk out, laughing to herself.
She was right, though, things were going to get really interesting.
In fact, “interesting” only took a few minutes.
Mr. Professional Boundaries decided to grace my office doorway with his presence, and here I thought I wouldn’t see him all day.
“Can I help you, Mr. Greyson?” I tried to keep the derision out of my voice, but my nineteen-year-old self begged for it to come out.
I mean, for heaven’s sake, this man used to wrap me up in his arms and kiss me until I saw stars, and then he would whisper in my ear, “Kelli, I’m crazy about you.
” Now here he was expecting me to call him, “Mr. Greyson.”
He raised his brow at me. “Do you have a problem with calling me Mr. Greyson?”
I saluted him. “No sir.” So much for being professional. I looked at the time. That had lasted all of about forty-five minutes.
“Kel—”
I smirked at him.
“Ms. Bryant, in my experience, it’s important for someone in my position to set the proper expectations. I’m not here to make friends.”
I so badly wanted to comment. I had the best comeback on the tip of my tongue; it took everything I had not to say what I so desperately wanted to.
I wondered if Boss knew what an arrogant jerk he had hired to take his place.
We were going from the man who was everyone’s friend to a man who apparently wanted to be an island.
I held in my comment, but it was really hard.
“Do you have something to say?” He knew me too well.
I shook my head no, but he waited several seconds before he spoke again.
It was like he was daring me to say it. I almost did, but in this battle of wills, I planned on being the victor.
When he realized I wouldn’t be rising to the sarcastic occasion, he invited himself all the way into my office, came around, and stood behind me at my desk. I thought it was odd.
He leaned down and looked over my shoulder, pointing to my screen. “Would you mind pulling up your schedule?”
Oh, he smelled good. He was still wearing the same cologne he had so many years ago.
It was a warm, spicy scent. It drove me crazy, and when I looked over to him, our faces were too close for comfort.
I quickly turned away and complied with his request, trying to ignore my rapid heartbeat. This was ridiculous.
When my schedule popped up, he reached over my shoulder and began touching the screen, asking about each appointment and if it could be rescheduled. Each time I replied in the negative. He was becoming increasingly frustrated with me. That delighted me more than it should.
“How about a working lunch?” he suggested.
“Hmm . . . I had wanted to run some errands.”
“Kel— I mean, Ms. Bryant.”
I loved how he couldn’t even stick with his own dumb rules.
“It’s important that we meet. I would be happy to have Ms. King, order something in for us. Or if you would like, we can go out somewhere together.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Everyone else called her Delfia, it had taken me a moment to figure out who Ms. King was.
He was giving me a headache. I really didn’t want to meet with him, but I knew I couldn’t keep avoiding it.
The more I put it off, the worse it would be.
“I brought my lunch,” I huffed. “I’ll meet you in the conference room at noon. ”
He stood up straight. “That wasn’t so hard now was it, Ms. Bryant?”
I swiveled in my chair to face him. “Is that all, Mr. Greyson? As you can see, I’m busy.”
His chest rose and fell. “I look forward to meeting with you.” He turned and walked out.
Yeah, well that made one of us! I crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at the opened door.
I peeked out my office door to see Delfia trying to hold back her laughter. I shook my head in disgust, threw my earbuds in, and went to work. I had emails and proposals that needed my attention.
The only interruption I welcomed was Boss coming in to wish me a good morning. “You look good in this office, kiddo,” he said.
I wanted to say I would look even better in the adjoining office, but I left it alone. What’s done is done.
The morning unfortunately flew by between catching up on email, sending out two proposals, and having a conference call with a demo.
As noon approached, I headed to my private bathroom and touched up my make-up.
I knew it could have seemed like I wanted to impress my new boss, but I would have done it for anyone, and mostly for myself.
I pulled up the roadmap for the product on my laptop before I undocked it and grabbed my lunch. I made my way over to the conference room. Delfia wagged her brows at me as I walked by. I rolled my eyes at her.
“By the way, you look sizzling today,” she whispered.
I laughed and kept on walking. I loved her.
I walked in to find Ian, I mean, you know who, set up with two laptops running, surrounded by a myriad of files.
It also looked like he had ordered in sushi.
Yuck. When he noticed me, he stood and pulled out the chair next to him.
Ugh, I was planning on sitting across from him. Once again, he thwarted my plans.
I begrudgingly took the seat next to him. “Thank you,” I said somewhat politely. I almost added that it was probably crossing a professional boundary for him to pull out my chair, but I decided to keep that to myself and get this meeting over with.
“Would you like some sushi?” he asked as soon as I was situated.
“Uh, no thanks. We like our fish fried here in the South.”
He chuckled. “You might like it.”
“I don’t think so.” I pulled out my crunchy peanut butter and plum jam on whole wheat bread sandwich.
Before I took a bite, he stared at my sandwich. “Remember that day in the park when . . .”
I whipped my head toward him. Our eyes locked. For a brief moment, I saw the old Ian. It was a little disconcerting. Then just like that, it was gone.
He shook his head. “I can’t believe you still eat those.”
I had probably eaten more peanut butter and jam sandwiches than I could count, but I still loved them.
They were a reminder of childhood and happy times.
Some of those happy times included Ian. I wondered what day in the park he remembered, because there were several to choose from.
It was our favorite place to study and engage in other activities.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Well, I can’t believe people eat raw fish.”
He held up a sushi roll and downed it.
I went back to my plain sandwich. “So, what did you want to discuss?” I asked after a few bites.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and pulled up a file on the laptop closest to him. “I wanted to discuss the direction of the product, new feature enhancements, branding, etc.”
“Great, I’ve been working on a roadmap . . .”
He didn’t even let me finish my sentence before he began showing me mockups of a totally revamped product. It looked nothing like the original. It was overly sleek and slightly complicated in my opinion.
“Have you ever worked with banks and credit unions before?” I interrupted him after several minutes.
“A few,” he responded.
“Okay. Then did you know that most marketing departments, especially in smaller financial institutions, don’t have access to IT departments, and most of them lack high tech skills?”
“This product doesn’t only have to be utilized by financial clients.”
“I agree, and I would like to branch out to other verticals, but I don’t want to alienate our current clientele in the meantime. I believe the roadmap I’ve created addresses both issues.”
He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “Show me what you have.” It was like he was daring me to dazzle him.
No problem. I pulled up my roadmap that included a presentation outlining what I believed to be key feature enhancements, like an expanded ad library and tools to create your own ads with the ability to add branding and logos.
I discussed my idea for tier levels of features and support with varying price points.
I also mapped out a free version with a limited feature set that was just enough to water the mouths of potential clients in the hopes of turning them into paying customers.
Between speaking I would glance at Mr. Greyson.
He was engrossed in the presentation. When I was done, I let out a deep breath and turned toward him.
He grinned and nodded his head. “I’m impressed.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am,” he said bluntly.
I couldn’t help it, I rolled my eyes. “What did you expect?”
He touched my hand, but quickly seemed to realize that was crossing professional boundaries. He pulled it back, but it was too late. My hand was saying, Hey, I remember that touch. And unfortunately, it liked it. Dumb hand.
“You’re taking that wrong.”
“Oh really, how should I take it?”
He leaned forward. “Are you going to be sensitive about everything I say?”
I leaned in closer, getting right in his face. “Do you plan on being continually condescending, Mr. Greyson?”
We both stared hard at one another for several moments. Boss walked in and caught us in our staring contest. We both jumped and sat up straight. I smoothed out my blouse. Boss looked between the two of us. I could feel my cheeks redden out of embarrassment and anger.
“Great, I’m glad to find you both together,” Boss said uneasily.
“Ms. Bryant was just showing me her roadmap,” Ian, or whoever he was, informed Boss.
Boss smiled at me like a proud father. “Impressive, isn’t it?”