19. Gabriella
Gabriella
N iles peered around the doorframe leading to my office. Today, his hair was down, the way I liked it, the tips curling toward his chin. “Are we still on for lunch?”
I looked up from the notes I’d been reading at my desk and lifted my fingertips to my temples. “Do people still take two-martini lunches?”
My friend flashed a smile. “If we can’t have a two-martini lunch, I’m game for drinks after work. I have two more nights of bachelorhood, and I’m not a fan.” His eyebrows rose. “Or are you having another meeting ?” He used air quotes for the last word.
I shook my head. “My only meeting today is with Millie in a few minutes. I was just brushing up on some of the things Damien and I discussed.”
Niles’s eyebrows danced. “So, there was discussion?”
The clock on the bottom of my computer screen told me it was time to head to my boss’s office. Gathering my notes, I flashed Niles a grin. “Yes. We talked.”
He hummed. “I’m pretty sure lunch won’t be enough. We’ll need drinks after work for the full story.”
While I hadn’t been ready to discuss Damien with anyone before, maybe it would be nice to ask some advice from someone I trusted. I didn’t have time to give that much more thought as I made my way to Millie’s office. Pam’s desk was empty as I passed through the front office. Reaching Millie’s door, I knocked.
The door opened as Pam exited, a tablet in her hand. “Good morning, Ella.”
“Good morning. Is Millie expecting me?”
“She is,” Pam said with a smile.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside the executive office. It wasn’t half as nice as the office Johnathon had shown me at Sinclair Corporate Center.
“Ella,” Millie greeted from her desk. “Please have a seat.” Laying her hands on the desktop, she waited. Once I was seated, she proceeded. “You and Mr. Sinclair met again last night.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered. “We continued discussing the campaign over dinner.”
“Did it go…well?”
Memories of Damien’s cum coating my stomach and breasts caused my cheeks to flush. “I told him,” I said, sitting taller, “the concept is truly a wonderful opportunity for Beta Kappa Phi.”
She let out a breath. “I’m so happy to hear you say that.”
“I also told him that due to the history the two of us share, I am probably not the right person for the position.”
Exhaling, Millie sat back against her chair. “What history? The fact you’ve worked together makes you the perfect candidate.”
My lips came together as I shook my head. Of course, Millie Barns wouldn’t know our personal history. I never mentioned it, and graciously, Damien had given me a rousing recommendation.
“I quit Sinclair and came here.”
“He knows that. He also said that the two of you work well together. Do you not agree?”
Without answering, I moved the conversation forward. “If I agree to take on this new responsibility, what would it mean for me exactly with Beta Kappa Phi?”
She sat forward. “You’re still considering it?”
Remembering Damien’s advice from long ago, I replied, “I need all the information before I can make a decision.”
“Well,” she began enthusiastically, “first, the board has approved naming you campaign manager over the pharma coalition.” She grinned. “That’s the long and winded way to say this campaign would be your baby. At first, you would work alone. However, the board wants to reevaluate down the road. At that time, your position could and most likely would be elevated to program director of the pharma coalition. And if needed, additional staff would be allocated to handle the workload. This is a fluid endeavor and the board is willing to keep an open mind.”
I let out a long breath.
Director of my own division.
My forehead furrowed. “Who would I answer to as campaign manager?”
“Straight to me, the same as when you’re elevated to director. Of course, also the members of the coalition. This will be a balancing act with the different pharmaceutical companies.”
“I’ll be honest. I’ve been concentrating on Sinclair” —the devilishly handsome CEO— “and I haven’t given the other six companies a lot of consideration.”
“This must be a partnership with all seven companies. According to Mr. Sinclair, the other CEOs know that you used to work for Sinclair. That’s in your favor as you have experience in the pharmaceutical industry. It won’t be all new to you.”
That does make me a good candidate.
I hadn’t looked at the position from that perspective.
“Do you want to discuss salary?” Millie asked.
Do I?
Am I truly considering this?
“We can discuss it,” I replied.
“The board has approved a thirty percent increase in your salary.” Before I could reply, because honestly, I was computing the numbers in my head, Millie went on. “I know that may not be enough to compensate for the increased workload, but the board needs evidence that our donors’ dollars are well spent.”
I nodded.
“Along with your salary, effective immediately, each quarter you will receive a variable payment in arrears. That way you benefit when Beta Kappa Phi benefits.”
“The gala exceeded our goal by over twenty-five percent. If I were to use that guideline, what kind of a variable payment are we talking?”
Millie inhaled. “Your income could easily climb to the high six figures or possibly seven. It’s difficult to predict. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but there is potential.”
I wanted to think that I wasn’t easily swayed by money. Then again, the increase would mean I could pay off my student loans, maybe get a more fuel-efficient car for the commute, and up my investments.
Millie went on, “This will be a shake-up at Beta Kappa Phi for a while. I’d waited to talk to you, but if you agree to take the new campaign manager position, I’ve decided to offer Rosemary your current position. She’s worked closely with you over the last two years. I’m hoping Mr. Sinclair will agree to a grace period where you’re also available to Rosemary for guidance.”
“That won’t be up to Mr. Sinclair,” I replied. “It’s up to you. I’ll still be working for you.”
She nodded. “I don’t want to put you in a difficult position.”
You already have.
“Last night,” I said, “he asked that if I accept the position, I begin working from Sinclair Corporate Center next Monday. Do you think that’s feasible?”
“Is that a yes?”
“Shit, yes,” I said, my smile growing. “I think it’s a yes.”
“I couldn’t be happier.”
For the next thirty-plus minutes we discussed the structure, our communication while working in different offices, and what goals she and the board had set.
Once we were both out of questions, Millie stood and offered me her hand. “I’ll inform Mr. Sinclair and the board. Ella, I know you can do this.”
Shaking her hand, I pressed my lips together. “Thank you for believing in me.”
“I do.” Our handshake ended and Millie said, “I’ll contact HR and get the ball rolling on the details.”
“Rosemary?” I asked.
“Once this is approved, I will go to her.”
“What about Niles?” I asked.
“You and Niles have worked well together. What the two of you do is truly a two-person job. I don’t feel it’s right to ask him to do it alone.”
That made sense.
As I made my way back to my office, my mind was filled with all the things I needed to prepare, the information I needed to glean. Millie had been right: I was familiar with the industry. I wasn’t familiar with the other companies. That would be where I needed to start.
Sitting at my desk, I opened the drawer and removed my cellphone from my purse.
Two missed calls and one text message. They were all from the same number: Damien.
“I’m waiting for your call. I don’t like to wait.”