Three
SAWYER
As I exit the elevator lobby, I pull my coat a little tighter at the top, trying to keep the December air off my neck.
What the hell was up with that guy? It’s like he was screwing with me on purpose just to get a rise out of me.
The next time I run into him will be too soon.
Maybe I should tell Daniel it’s time we move.
Bad idea; he’ll want to know why and then accuse me of flirting.
Speaking of, I take my phone out of my purse as soon as I get into my car. I don’t have any missed texts from Daniel, which makes me a little nervous. I shoot him another message to let him know I’m on my way.
Me:
Leaving the garage now. Got stuck in the elevator. Might be time to find a new building. I’m getting tired of the issues with this one.
I say more than I should have, and I regret it immediately. Daniel is a firm believer that too much information is a cover for dishonestly.
Shit.
I put my car in drive, speed out of the garage, and merge into traffic on Doheny Road.
I’ve worked for Kramer Enterprises, Warren’s company, for about six months.
After I graduated college, I was determined to get a job somewhere else and on my own terms. I didn’t want them to hire me because I knew the CEO or because I was dating the boss, but because the company thought I was qualified and could contribute something to their team.
I worked for a few different agencies prior to Kramer Enterprises, trying to make my way up the ladder. After five years of fetching coffee and performing other duties that had me wasting my degree, I searched for higher paying jobs with the better companies in the city.
I didn’t realize until later that Daniel had sabotaged my interviews. A few times, he’d started an argument with me on the day of the interview, causing me to be late or unable to show up.
One company told me, after they had already scheduled my interview, that they needed to cancel because I was blacklisted.
Finally, I got an interview that I believed I’d nailed, only to find out that none of my references could vouch for any of my work history. This led the hiring manager to believe I had lied about everything.
My dad pleaded with me to give Warren’s company a shot.
Finally, I relented, vowing to continue my search for a position at a different company.
My father understands how hard it is for me to accept a handout, but he also didn’t like watching me waste my talent.
Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have this position on my resume.
And from a financial aspect, I wasn’t able to equally contribute in my relationship with Daniel, and that wasn’t okay with me either.
Yes, I have a trust fund, but I don’t like relying on it.
I refuse to live off of it while I coast through life with no responsibilities.
I’d rather earn my money by working hard, the way my father did.
I don’t even know how much money I have in my trust.
Sure, I could stay home every day. I don’t have to work.
But being a homemaker isn’t what I was meant for.
I can’t imagine waiting around all day for Daniel to come home from work.
Having a hot dinner ready and waiting, dressed to the nines in heels and pearls.
But more than that, I can’t allow myself to need Daniel.
I think that’s what makes him so mad about me working.
To him, a career means me having independence.
He was firmly against me working at Kramer Enterprises, but his dad told him it was a favor for my dad.
I think he finally relented because he realized we would be in the same office where he can keep an eye on me.
He only wanted me working one day per week, while I wanted a full-time job. We went back and forth and eventually agreed on three days per week. This worked out well because the other two days I can spend at the track.
I finally make it to the office thirty minutes late. Carefully, I glance into Daniel’s office as I walk to my cubicle, and his predictable unhappiness is confirmed. He pins me with his angry stare, and I fumble my step. Correcting myself, I make it to my desk without him coming out to stop me.
As soon as I boot up my computer and open my email, I get an instant message from him.
Daniel Kramer:
Where the hell have you been?
Sawyer Stone:
I’m sorry, but there was an issue with the elevator in our building. I texted you a few times. Did you see them?
Daniel Kramer:
It is unacceptable for you to come in late. You’re my girlfriend and the CEO’s future daughter-in-law. There is no room for error or you run the risk of people complaining about nepotism.
Sawyer Stone:
I’m sorry, Daniel. It won’t happen again.
Daniel Kramer:
It better not.
I minimize the screen and look through my email. Nervous about my meeting, I want to start getting prepared as soon as possible.
Two hours later I’m seated in our executive conference room with my manager, Trina, and my client, Dawson Brands.
They’re a mid-level personal hygiene product distributing company and the biggest client I’ve ever pitched to.
I know that Daniel assigned me to their account as a test. I need to do well, or I will be giving him the ammunition he needs to tell me I’m not right for this job.
“I’ve gone through the market data that you sent over. Based on what I saw, you’re missing out on various opportunities to expand your sales and business by not considering the online market.”
I look at Mr. Dawson to gauge his reaction. DB is more old-school compared to most of our other clients. If they want to join the ranks of higher-grossing companies who sell the same types of products, then they’re going to have to drastically expand their reach.
I watch as his son awaits a response from him as well. When he doesn’t offer one, I continue.
“I would suggest we begin utilizing social media advertising immediately. By doing so, you can tailor your ads based on demographics. Once we start to notice any trends with that data, we can focus our efforts there to ensure you’re receiving the highest return on investment.”
My nerves are on edge, and his lack of response has me beginning to sweat.
The elder Mr. Dawson is a seventy-five year-old man who should have retired years ago and let his son step in.
His inability to trust in those he’s hired to help him is apparent by the lack of a team he brought with him today.
I’m used to clients bringing a small army made up of various executives and assistants.
I exchange a glance with his son who looks at me with an apologetic smile.
“I have a feeling,” Mr. Dawson finally speaks, his liver-spotted fingers steepled, “that you don’t understand the essence of my company. We didn’t need that fancy computer nonsense when I started my business fifty years ago, and I think you’re relying on it to do your job for you.”
I’m floored by his unwillingness to see that his company will have a difficult time climbing the ranks if they don’t expand their reach. There has to be something else going on here. Even his son has a look of surprise on his face.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Dawson, but the world is a completely different place than it was fifty years ago.”
“I think I’ve heard all that I need to hear.”
As Mr. Dawson gets up from the table, his son speaks up.
“Dad, come on, you need to think this through. This is the future, and all of your hard work will have been for nothing if you don’t adapt to change and welcome suggestions for improvement.”
I shoot the son a look of gratitude, but his father continues to walk to the door. Panic sets in at losing this client, knowing Daniel is waiting for me to fail.
“Mr. Dawson,” Trina jumps in. “I’ll take another look at numbers and options with Sawyer, and maybe we can reconvene in the next couple weeks.”
He stops and looks at Trina.
“I’ll give you one more chance, but then I’m going to take my business elsewhere. Good day.”
“Understood,” Trina answers.
I’m thankful to her for stepping in, causing my stress level to begin to go down slightly.
Until we enter the hallway, where Daniel is waiting for us.
This isn’t going to end well.
“Mr. Dawson, nice to see you again. How did everything go?”
“Well, unfortunately, I believe that Ms. Stone is quite incompetent when it comes to the job she is supposed to be doing.”
Daniel frowns, his forehead creasing. “I’m so sorry. I—”
“If it weren’t for Ms. Collins, here,” Mr. Dawson interrupts, “then we would be taking our business elsewhere.”
Daniel’s eyes skip to mine for just a second, but it’s enough for me to notice the flash of anger and disappointment.
This is not good.
“Well, I sincerely apologize for it not going as well as you would have liked, but I’m glad that we were able to turn it around for you. I assure you, moving forward, I’ll make sure Ms. Stone stays far away from your account.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Mr. Dawson nods toward Daniel before shooting one last glare at me, then heads for the lobby.
I wait for Daniel to explode. To scream at me. He usually wouldn’t do that in front of anyone else, he saves that behavior for when we’re behind closed doors, but he’s never looked this angry with me before.
Surprisingly, he takes a deep breath and walks back into his office, slamming his door shut behind him.
Tonight is going to be bad.
I stay late at work in an attempt to get ahead of my next few client meetings.
Trina stays with me, insisting she has work to catch up on as well, but I know she’s staying for moral support.
I think she knows that there is more to mine and Daniel’s relationship, but I’ll never confirm it.
Every time she asks about us, I change the subject.
The younger Mr. Dawson called a few hours after they left and told me that he would work on getting his father to understand where I was coming from. I was happy to hear it, but it’s not like it mattered since Daniel already removed me from the account.
My phone buzzes on my desk, and I look at the screen.
Daniel:
Where are you? Why aren’t you home yet?
He’s pissed. I can’t really blame him this time, though. I pick up my phone and reply to his text.
Me:
I’m still at the office. Trying to get a jump on my next few meetings. Trina is here helping me.
I only tell him about Trina so he knows that there is someone to prove I’m where I say I am.
Daniel:
Well, after nearly losing us an account today, I suppose you need all the help you can get.
His response twists the knife, piercing my confidence more than it already was before.
I was able to compartmentalize my disastrous morning, but now that I’m in my car driving home, all of my worry and anxiety is flooding back into my psyche.
I park my BMW, that Daniel insisted I drive, in its assigned spot next to his Bentley. I can’t bring myself to get out yet. I can feel tears beginning to prick my eyes, but I stop them from coming.
I won’t let him see me cry.
I shake my head slightly, trying to clear away my frustration, then exit my car. As I step into the elevator, I think about how my day began. I should have known it wasn’t going to end well. Pushing the button for the twenty-third floor, the elevator begins to rise.
Oh, how I wish it would stop moving again. I would give anything to get stuck in here for the rest of the night than to have to see Daniel right now. My feet feel as though they’re cemented in stone as I walk toward our condo. As if I am walking to my execution.
It feels like I am.
As my key enters the lock, the door swings open, and I come face to face with a very irritated Daniel.
“Did you get some good training in?”
His large form takes up the entire doorway as he stands there, arms crossed over his chest, defining his outrage.
“Yes,” I respond, doing my best to slide past him.
He closes the door and turns to face me.
“Good. You really dropped the ball today. Between arriving late and your lackluster pitch, I should fire you. Not only could you have cost the company millions of dollars, but you make it seem like you get to do whatever you want because of your connection to me.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s completely unacceptable. You need to step it up. It can’t appear as though you have special privileges. I could get into a lot of trouble. My father may own the company, but the board keeps a close watch on everything that goes on in that office.”
“Trina stayed behind with me tonight and helped me plan out some of my upcoming pitches. She told me she’ll help me practice beforehand next time. Okay? I’m trying, Daniel. Trust me, the last thing I want to do is make you look bad.”
I watch some anger melt away as I stroke his ego a little.
“Sawyer…”
He pulls me in for a hug and rests his chin on the top of my head.
“I just can’t help but think that if you didn’t waste your time trying to become a silly race car driver, you might have more time to devote to your job.”
Swallowing the fireball of angry word vomit threatening to spill from my mouth, I can’t let the words I long to say out.
“Thought you didn’t want me working there, anyway?”
“I don’t,” he pulls away and looks at me with his signature condescending, asshat gaze, “but you just don’t have what it takes to be a race car driver.”
The tears I cast away down in the garage are back with a vengeance. They stab at my eyes like pinpricks, and I don’t have the power to stop them this time.
He places his cold palm to my cheek, a gesture that’s meant to bring a feeling of love and compassion, but coming from him feels like a venomous snakebite.
“Now, I will never understand why you feel the need to work when you have me to take care of you, but since you chose to work for me, I can see to it that you actually succeed in at least one thing that you’re passionate about.”
With the final blow delivered, Daniel turns and struts into the bedroom with more swagger than any one person should ever have, shutting the light off as he goes. I lean against the wall behind me and sink to the floor, bawling silently into the dark, empty room.