Chapter 13
MOLLY
Balancing the heavy silver tray on one hand, I push the door to the boardroom open with my shoulder.
The low hum of conversation fills the vast space with a self-assured murmur of authority and wealth.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the sharp tang of polished mahogany and expensive colognes and perfumes.
I keep my eyes down, my focus trained on the array of fine porcelain cups and gleaming silverware I have meticulously arranged on the tray.
I’m nervous and I’m afraid that my hand will shake, which will cause all the cups and silverware to rattle on the tray.
I tell myself that I don’t need to be nervous.
Even though this is a big deal for me, for them, it’s nothing.
It’s just another meeting, just another day at the office.
And for me, it’s just another group of powerful men who won’t remember the secretary who served them coffee.
Or so I think. As I step further into the boardroom, my gaze lifts for just a second to make sure I’m not about to crash into the table or anything. And that’s when my world stops.
I see him. The CEO. The head of the company. The man who holds the fate of this corporation, and, by extension, the fate of my job, in his hands. The infamous Mr Redfern, CEO extraordinaire and office hottie.
Except I know him by a different name. Joshua.
My breath catches in my throat and the tray trembles slightly in my grip. My worst fear comes true - the cups rattling against their delicate saucers – but I’m so shaken that I barely even notice the tinkling sound of them.
Three years might have passed since my one hot night with Joshua, but I know that face as if I had seen it only yesterday. The sharp line of his jaw is unmistakable, as are his gorgeous brown eyes.
I notice the way his mouth presses into a firm line as he listens to the man speaking beside him – this is different to his expressions in Vegas, but I guess that makes sense. He has to be serious, stoic even in here, whereas in Vegas he could just be himself.
Another difference is his hair. It’s shorter now, darker, the sun kissed strands from that night in Vegas long gone.
It looks much more corporate, as does his whole persona.
He wears power like a second skin, his navy suit tailored to perfection, his tie knotted with precision, and I’m sure if I could see them, his shoes will be shining to within an inch of their life.
And I’m pretty sure he has no idea who I am, or if he does, he doesn’t seem in the least bit surprised to see me here. I must admit I am a little bit disappointed that he doesn’t even remember me, but in another sense, I guess it’s for the best. It will certainly be less awkward.
There is no flicker of recognition in his gaze as he glances in my direction, leaving me certain he has seen me.
There is no widening of his eyes, no brief flash of memory.
He does nothing to indicate that this man once had his hands on my body, his lips tracing a path over my skin.
That he whispered my name in the dim glow of a Las Vegas hotel room.
That he unknowingly left a piece of himself with me in the form of a child he never knew existed.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep moving.
My heartbeat is a hammering pulse in my ears, and my hands tighten around the tray.
This is not happening. This cannot be happening.
I mean seriously. What are the chances that Joshua is not only based in the same city I grew up in, but that of all the companies in this city, I end up working for his.
It’s got to be like one in a million odds.
And yet here we are, the punchline in fate’s joke.
From the moment I saw Joshua, it felt like we are the only two people in the room, but I’m very much conscious of the fact that isn’t true, and I force myself to focus on my task at hand and nothing else.
I set the tray down carefully on a part of the table where no one is sitting, trying to keep my movements fluid and professional, but my fingers feel clumsy, like they are too stiff to do this job.
My face burns with the weight of my secret, and I’m sure I look every bit as hot and flustered as I feel.
Breathe, Molly. Just get through this, I tell myself.
I busy myself pouring out cups of coffee, my hands shaking slightly as I lift the heavy silver pot.
I serve the board members one by one, smiling when appropriate, nodding in silent acknowledgment of their murmured thanks.
I think I’m acting normal, covering my utter shock, but still, beneath my carefully constructed veneer, my mind is a swirling mess of panic and disbelief.
What do I do? Should I say something? Should I act as if nothing has happened? I don’t have to decide right now, because if I’m going to say something, it certainly isn’t going to be in the board meeting.
I can’t help but keep stealing a glance at him as I move around the table. He is speaking now, his voice rich and deep, just like I remembered it to be, commanding and strong, although in my memory, his commands are a lot more fun than these ones are.
He controls the room with an effortless confidence that makes my stomach tighten.
One thing that hasn’t changed is Joshua’s charisma.
This man oozes sexiness. He’s still talking but I hear none of his words.
I’m too busy analysing his every movement, searching for any sign that he remembers me. But there’s nothing. Not a flicker.
I reach the end of the table, where a crystal jug of milk sits beside the coffee pot. My hand closes around the handle, my grip unsteady.
I should leave. I should get out of here before my knees buckle beneath me. Before I do something humiliating. But of course, I can’t just leave in the middle of serving the refreshments. All I have to get through is pouring the milk for those who want it, then the cream and sugar. I can do this.
I start adding milk to the drinks. I reach the final cup that requires milk, and I start to pour, but just as I do, Joshua says something particularly loudly and I jump. I feel the milk jug slipping and I try my best to save it, but it’s too late. The jug slips from my fingers.
I feel as though time slows down as I watch the arc of white liquid cascading through the air, a shimmering, milky waterfall that lands squarely in the lap of a distinguished older man seated near the head of the table.
The jug lands with a bang on the desk in front of him, the perfect punctation to my misfortune.
Gasps ripple around the room. Someone lets out a muffled laugh.
I stand with my mouth open in horror, waiting for the man to yell at me, for Joshua to yell at me.
No one does, but the man does look down at his milk-soaked clothes in abject horror.
The movement of his head breaks my own paralysis, and I jump into action.
“Oh my God. I am so sorry,” I blurt out, scrambling to grab the napkins from the tray.
My hands fumble as I press them toward the unfortunate board member, whose expensive charcoal grey pants are now splattered with milk.
I’m careful not to dab too low down, but there is a fair bit of milk pooled in his lap, and I don’t know what else to do.
The man watches me dabbing at him, and his face is a mixture of shock and annoyance, his lips pressed together in what I can only assume is an effort to maintain his dignity.
Joshua glances in my direction. For one terrible second, I think I see something in his gaze. Amusement? Curiosity? A flicker of something deeper? But it’s gone before I can be sure. If I saw anything, let’s be honest, it was most likely anger.
I force myself to breathe, to remain composed as I stammer out another apology, still dabbing at the man. The older man waves a hand, though his expression is still decidedly sour. He waves me away from his clothes and to my relief, he doesn’t yell at me.
“Accidents happen,” he mutters. He takes the balled-up napkins from my hand and begins to dab at his own crotch, not something I expected to see when I came into the meeting.
I nod, forcing myself to give him a tight-lipped smile as I step back, my heart pounding against my ribs.
I need to get out of here. Now. But there are still drinks to finish.
I go back to the tray, and I pick up the jug of cream, but before I can start doling it out, the nearest board member takes pity on me and gets up and takes the jug of cream from me.
“Why don’t you let me finish up here,” he says.
I feel like I will be forever grateful to the man because he doesn’t make any snide comments about not wanting to end up being my next victim or anything similar, although I’m sure that’s at least part of the reason why he has taken over.
I glance at Joshua, my expression asking his permission to leave.
He gives a barely perceptible nod of his head.
Gathering what little dignity I have left, I make my way toward the door, my hands clenched so tightly at my sides that my nails bite into my palms.
I can feel Joshua’s gaze on me as I leave, burning into my back like a question unspoken.
But I don’t turn around. I can’t bring myself to do it.
Because if I look at him again right now and see the silent anger etched into his expression, I might just break down, and I think it’s fair to say I’ve made enough of a fool of myself for one day without bursting into tears here.
As soon as I’m out of the meeting, I scramble back to the safety of my work area. The other three women look up when I burst into the area and practically throw myself down in my chair. I put my hands over my face, resting my elbows on my desk.
“Molly? Are you ok? What happened?” Frieda asks, her voice laced with concern.
I remove my hands from my face.
“Well,” I say. “Let’s see. I met the hot CEO. And then I managed to spill a jug of milk over one of the board members. And another board member took over making the drinks because I clearly can’t be trusted with liquids.”
I guess I expect some sympathy, maybe an anecdote or two about when one of them have fucked up.
What I don’t expect is what I get – the three of them look at each other and burst into laughter.
For a moment, I just look at them, feeling like I might cry, but then the absurdity of the situation hits me, and I find myself joining in with their laughter.
As the laughter dies down, and we wipe tears from our faces, I shake my head.
“I hope I don’t get fired,” I say.
“Mr Redfern won’t fire you for that,” Patty says. “As long as it was clearly an accident, and you apologized.”
“I apologized like a hundred times,” I say. “I hope you’re right. Hopefully he’ll just yell at me.”
“Which board member was it?” Sarah asks.
“I don’t know his name. He was a bit older than the others, glasses, slightly balding,” I say.
“That’s Mr Redfern senior. He’s the current CEO’s father and he was the company’s founder,” Sarah says.
My eyes widen in horror. I threw milk over Joshua’s father. I am definitely getting fired for this, no matter what Patty thinks.
“I might as well pack my things now,” I say.
“No need,” Frieda says, shaking her head.
“Honestly Molly, I bet you don’t even get told off.
Mr Redfern doesn’t hate his father or anything, but his father is often resistant of the changes he wants to make and what not.
He will absolutely love the fact that he has been brought down a peg or two in front of the rest of the board. ”
“Yeah. You’re more likely to get employee of the month than be fired,” Patty adds. “Not that we have employee of the month, but you get my drift.”
I nod my head. I do. And I finally allow myself to relax a little bit.
These women have worked here a lot longer than I have, and they know the dynamics between everyone well.
If they say this won’t be a big deal, then I’m going to choose to believe them.
For the first time since I dropped that milk jug, I feel like everything might be ok after all.