Chapter 14
Lucia
Kehlani: Girl. WSP?
Kehlani: No news here. One interview. Blah. Didn’t click.
Kehlani is interviewing for job opportunities within her company and yet she’s struggling. She’s optimistic she’ll find a fit soon, but hearing about her challenges doesn’t make me optimistic I’ll find a company willing to relocate me.
Me: You’ll find something soon. Faith!
I unwrap the cheese that I packed for lunch, and debate telling her about my one-night stand. Mr. Pelz left the office early for a business dinner, and although it’s after five o’clock, this is the first time I’ve had a break to eat.
Mr. Pelz asks me to attend many of his meetings so I can take notes. I could tell him he could record the meetings and ask one of the AI services on the market to provide him notes and action steps, but I haven’t done that because the meetings are highlights in my day. It just means that on days when he has back-to-back meetings, I do too and the time in between is packed with other tasks.
Kehlani: I met my neighbor. If this app had emojis, I’d insert one gigantic eggplant and fire.
I snort. It’s late her time. The only thing that could make this impromptu sesh better is if I was sitting at the pub with a glass of wine, but cheese at the table in the break room will do.
Me: Snag photos & share.
Kehlani: Of his eggplant?
Me: FUNNY
Kehlani: And you??? Anyone?
There’s really no reason to not tell her. Why am I hesitating?
Me: I met a guy.
Kehlani: Get. Out.
Me: I mean, it’s nothing, but I did get acquainted with his eggplant
Kehlani: NOOOOOOO!!!!!!
I consume the rest of my cheese, watching the dots, inwardly giggling, waiting for her response. The screen lights up, and I cackle when I see her name.
A woman in a pantsuit enters the break room and stands in front of the coffee machine. I offer her a smile and answer my mobile since the obnoxious ring fills the space.
“I can’t really talk.”
“What? Oh. You’re at the office?”
“Yes.”
The line disconnects. I stare at the screen. She’s going to continue via What’s App.
Kehlani: Who?
Me: You don’t know him.
Kehlani: But you like him?
Me: Don’t read into it. It’s only physical. Once and done.
Me: Nothing will come of it.
Kehlani: That’s what they all say at the beginning. What does he do?
Me: He works here. That’s why nothing will come of it.
Kehlani: NO. Who?!
Me: It doesn’t matter.
Kehlani: You lying liar who lies. You NEVER cross the work line. Who is it?
Me: He’s an executive.
Kehlani: Please tell me it’s not Peltz. Anyone but the Putz. I will vomit.
I snort and the woman stirring her coffee gives me an odd look.
Me: Obvs not him. I’ll try to snag a photo 4 you.
Besides, it would be nice to have a photo to remember him by.
Kehlani: Where’s he from?
Kehlani and I hung out with the other expats. For years, we had a great group of friends, but then we hit that six and seven-year mark and one by one, our friend group migrated. I’m the last man standing, so to speak.
Me: Here.
Literally here. His family founded Lumina.
Kehlani: He’s Swiss?
I get her consternation. Our Swiss colleagues are cordial, but for whatever reason, after hour connections mostly split along lines of Swiss and non-Swiss.
Me: There’s nothing long term here. But it has been fun. Tell me about your neighbor.
Kehlani: He’s in banking. A couple of years younger. I’ll keep u updated. Why don’t you see any potential?
Me: Two different worlds.
Kehlani: ??? Because he’s Swiss?
That didn’t actually cross my mind. Besides, Tristan strikes me as more Brit than Swiss.
Me: He’s loaded.
Kehlani: Go for that girl!
I can almost hear her saying it with cheery gusto.
Me: Insert eye roll.
Me: Love you. Gotta run. Night. Night.
I turn off the phone and head up to the seventh floor. The cubicles I pass along the way are mostly empty, although there are one or two diligent workers tapping away behind computer lights.
The door to Tristan’s office is open, and my heart rate picks up with expectation. But his chair is empty, and the monitor is dark.
Maybe he left earlier and left the door open so no one would know what time he left. I could see that. But, in truth, I suspect he bends over backwards to let everyone know he plays by a different set of rules. He shows up to work late, messages during meetings, and treats Peltz like he’s a subordinate. And, at least until the org chart changes, that’s not the case.
But we all know Tristan will rise within the company. He’s the founder’s great grandson. His climb to the executive team is assured.
I print out Mr. Peltz’s schedule tomorrow and carry it to his office.
I’m a couple of feet away from his office door when I notice the light. He rarely leaves his light on, but perhaps he figured I would turn it off before I left for the night.
As the door swing opens, it takes me seconds to process what I’m seeing. Tristan sits behind Peltz’s desk, and a stack of files are before him. The top folder is open.
His gaze meets mine. Quiet. Assured. There’s no trace of guilt.
“What are you doing?”
“Searching for something.”
“Is there something I can help you find?”
“No. Just figured I’d be sure I knew everything I needed to know about the RimFire.”
“You can find anything you need on the company server. Mr. Peltz keeps hard copies, but it’s all on the network server.” There’s no reason to risk your job to break in here, is what I want to tell him, but perhaps he’s not risking anything. Portraits from three generations of his family adorn the lobby walls.
“What are you doing here so late?” He flips a folder closed and lifts the stack, signaling he’s done with whatever research he was doing.
His quiet assurance is mesmerizing. Sitting behind the desk, in an office that isn’t even his, a sense of power and entitlement oozes from his bespoke suit and confident demeanor. The man fears nothing. Rules don’t apply to him.
If I had my phone with me, I’d snap a photo for Kehlani of him sitting behind Peltz’s desk. She’d immediately understand why we live in two different worlds.
His dark eyes rove my body. I’ve heard the phrase smoldering gaze before, but never quite grasped the meaning. I do now. His gaze smolders, penetrating my dress, heating my skin.
I hold up the printout of tomorrow’s itinerary. “I need to put this on Mr. Peltz’s desk.”
His gaze flickers to the paper in my hand.
“He’s such a Putz.” It’s comical that both Kehlani and Tristan have chosen the same word to describe my boss. “Come here.”
The command is low but leaves no room for questions. I glance behind me at the opened door. I didn’t push it closed when I entered.
“No one’s here. No one’s going to come up here.”
But they could. You never know. It’s not unheard of for one of his direct reports to drop something off before heading home.
“Lucia. I’m waiting.”
His long fingers tap the ends of the armrests. His cufflinks glimmer in the lamplight. The only light in the room, the golden glow casts a shadow behind the armchair, and sets a spotlight on the chair’s occupant. The vest he’s wearing over his crisp white button down fits him perfectly, and I imagine in his office there’s a matching suit jacket.
My throat tightens with each step I take, and my heart pounds a nervous beat.
I shouldn’t do this.
“I said come here.”
I glance behind me once more at the open door and set the paper down on Mr. Peltz’s desk, beside the stack of folders.
“Lucia.”
His tone commands attention.
“Have you ever been fucked in an office?”
I slowly shake my head no, or at least I think I shake my head. It’s hard to breathe. The walls blur and it’s like I know. Every part of me knows.
I’m going to fuck this man in my boss’s office.