Out of Office

Chapter One

Genevieve

Diligence. Ambition. Drive.

The three words were engraved in my psyche. Especially today as I sat in this trailer office with the cheap beige carpets and IKEA furniture, my cell phone ringing for the tenth time. The words were a compass and a constant reminder of my goals in life. The ambition to triumph, never settle, and make my mother proud. Being the only child of a single overachiever came with expectations to shatter my own glass barriers.

Diligence. Ambition. Drive.

The words might as well be my mantra. I’d heard them since I was six years old, the weight of my mother’s dream heavy on my shoulders even then.

As I finished the last emails of the day, I attempted to put together the agenda for my return to Florida but couldn’t muster the energy. Not with this nervous current running through me. Not with the calls on my cell phone screen hovering over a day that should be celebratory.

My mother had put herself through college, the first of the family, but that wasn’t enough...oh no, it also meant that I needed to provide some firsts. Starting with an MBA, to the detriment of my ever-present debt. Youngest General Manager of my company at thirty-two, and my third first loomed close. You’d think I’d be ecstatic, but another first threatened, not allowing me to be great: complete and utter burnout.

My entire life had become a never-ending stream of deadlines, where the goalpost continued to be moved upward, never to be reached.

Even thinking of her mantra tonight tired me. Relaxation never penetrated my mind enough to pause and release me from my daily stressors.

That’s why the decision to take two weeks away from my predetermined, meticulous plan was unprecedented. And that’s why my phone had been ringing off the hook for the past three hours, and it rang again as if I had summoned it up.

“Genevieve Raymond, what do you mean you’re not returning tomorrow?” Mom asked the moment I answered the phone.

A cold pang radiated from my chest, making my palms sweat as I debated my response. At work, they called me the Silent Sniper. I had been known to make more than a few directors cry after my visits, but a simple call from Lissette Raymond and I lost my power of speech.

“Hello, Mother.” I attempted to hide my hesitation. Mom would pounce on it.

“Don’t Hello, Mother me. What is this you texted me? ‘I’m taking a vacation.’ A vacation isn’t in your timeline until you finally get your promotion next year.”

“Yes, well, it’s company policy to give me two months in the office until my next assignment. So, why not take the benefit?”

The silence on the other side of the phone materialized as an apparition deployed to haunt me. Mom usually used this tactic successfully in her professional life, and apparently now with me.

“Mother...Mom. Silence, unfortunately, doesn’t work on me. I’m staying in Panamá. Two weeks of relaxation and exploration. I’ve decided.” A rush of rightness flowed through me and settled my aching chest. Every step of my career had been delicately orchestrated, with mentorship from my mother. There was no decision I’d made without her guidance; after all, why not leverage the most successful person in my orbit? Mom had learned the treacherous path of corporate America for a Black woman and wanted to spare me any missteps. We had started clashing lately because some of Mom’s advice remained based on the corporate America she knew, but things had changed since then.

“Well, I guess you’ve made up your mind, and I have no say in this decision.”

Ah. Guilt. A seldom used weapon in Lissette’s arsenal but highly effective. The shot was a glancing blow, nothing else.

“Yes,” I replied serenely. Mom always forgot I was a grown woman at thirty-seven.

“At least you have your laptop; you have to get ready. You know they’ll open the VP of Ops position soon.”

“Well, it’ll have to wait. I’m not taking the laptop.” I tried to ignore the sudden itch on the palms of my hands. I wasn’t codependent on my work. I could and would disconnect for two weeks. Heck, the company plugged off my email whenever I took paid time off, and part of the two-month break included unlimited PTO as needed. And I needed it. Lately, my entire body ached, the tension between my shoulders so solid my trapezius could cosplay as a bodybuilder’s.

“Now you’re just being reckless. Call me back when you are serious.” The beep signaling the end of the call served as a poor goodbye. I wouldn’t let the roiling guilt of taking time for myself overwhelm me. Mom remained keenly attuned to what it took to grow in any career, and her mentorship of young Black professionals was well-known in our community. It was why Mom pushed me so hard, but two weeks in an affordable B and B wouldn’t splinter my dreams or the bank.

I meant to enjoy this interlude.

Shaking off the down brought by my call with Mom, I walked out of the office I’d inhabited for the past four months as I assisted in the pre and grand opening of the new Tropics hotel and casino in Panamá City—the first of the company.

My heels’ rhythmic clicks and clacks interrupted the silence in the satellite office across from the new hotel. Soon, the silence evolved into a buzz of chatter and music as I traversed the tunnel that connected the pre-opening offices to the main building.

Tropics Hotels had experienced a rapid expansion in the past two years, including adding new countries. I’d capitalized on that expansion, volunteering the last year to onboard new general managers, open properties, and cover during transitions in the Latin America and Caribbean area. When they opened the VP position for the Caribbean/LATAM region, I hoped my name would be foremost in everyone’s mind. I’d busted my behind to make sure of it.

A glittering chandelier hovered over the open lobby, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, with views of Balboa Bay. The hall dripped with opulence, with bright blue, green, and white murals designed by an upcoming Panamanian designer. The architecture and design of the hotel were exquisite, and finally seeing it full of stylishly dressed patrons filled me with warmth.

Panamanian professionals had spearheaded the entire project, one of the key requirements in the company’s expansion. The importance of working with locals was one of the other reasons the new region of Latin America and the Caribbean appealed to me. So many companies tended to bring Americans to crucial hotel positions, but Tropics had recruited from each country. I might not be close to my father, but his Panamanian descent had made me eager to be part of the pre-opening team here. If only I’d explored the country instead of losing all my hours at work. Sigh.

Regret had no place in tonight’s festivities. I approached a smiling banquet server who gave me a cold champagne flute.

“How’s it going, Manny?” I asked him.

“It’s good, Miss Genevieve. I’m so glad you recommended that they open last week and waited until today for the party. It really helped us get ready for all these people!” He gestured around the grand lobby as guests milled about in their cocktail attire.

“That wasn’t just me, though. All of you contributed to the decision. I wish I could just go to my bed, but I have to socialize.” Working the room had never been my forte; I’d trained myself over the years to push through events like this. One of the many things I never considered when I plunged into my career was being an introvert in an industry that required constant networking.

“I hear you, Miss Gen, but you’ll be alright. You know how to turn it on.” Manny winked and melted into the crowd.

“Genevieve! This is a success!” My boss, Anibal Montoya, marched toward me with Anita Johnson, the hotel’s general manager. Working alongside Anita these past four months had been a joy; the powerhouse Afro-Panamanian was the best person to lead the team for such an important project.

“Thanks, Anibal,” I demurred, uncomfortable with the praise.

“I couldn’t have done this without you, my friend.” Anita clinked her glass with mine, and a sense of completion washed over me. Anita looked stunning in a white dress that accentuated her beautiful plus-size body.

“What are you talking about? I couldn’t have done it without you. From day one, I’d nearly tanked this project between my limited Spanish and American ways.” A voice similar to my mother’s whispered in my ear: No one respects a leader who does not see their worth.

“You don’t have to be modest.” Anibal’s dazzling grin and striking good looks stunned me for a second. It didn’t hurt that he looked like a husky linebacker. He still surprised me no matter how long we’d worked together. The man could have been a telenovela actor, the son of a long lineage of Afro-Colombian celebrities, but instead, he’d gone to college for hospitality in Florida and never looked back. He’d been one of my strongest allies and supporters this year.

“She can’t help herself. Hopefully, we’ll soon hear good news from Corporate in Fort Lauderdale.” Anita raised her eyebrow at Anibal, and Anibal’s laugh boomed, making some guests turn back to look at us.

“You’re not subtle at all, are you? Listen, I’d love to have Gen as my colleague. Right now, I have all these hotels under me as they continue the expansion, and it is becoming a lot of work. The only way it’s been possible to keep up is because Ms. Overachiever here is already doing the role, stepping up with the newly opened hotels in the islands and Latin America. Really, I don’t know how she does it, but you know it is not up to me.” Anibal shook his head, making Anita roll her eyes.

“But who better than you? I get it’s the big bosses’ decision, but you have worked with her the longest. You need to be vouching for her,” Anita pressed, and I was grateful, but I didn’t need Anibal feeling forced. I’d done the work, and my name should be the first on the list when that position opened. Anibal’s eyes flashed in challenge, and he opened his mouth, ready to respond.

These two... Anita had been clear with Anibal, when he arrived three days ago, that she wasn’t impressed by overlords who came once a quarter to dictate the goings-on of her hotel. Since then, they’d been at each other’s throats, to the point I worried Anibal would think Anita too direct. However, he’d seemed to relish the encounters and met every opposition with one of his smiles and witty commentary.

“Don’t worry, Anita. I know Anibal is gonna look out for me once they open the position. If I get it, I’ll be the first one of us. Well, first Black woman.” I gestured at Anibal, who nodded. “I’m going to miss working with you every day, though. Who’s going to get me to close my laptop by six?” I asked, attempting to defuse the situation. Anita’s squint turned to me instead. Oh great, I should have kept my mouth closed.

“Six? Wow, Anita, you’re a miracle worker. I can’t get her to log off before eight.” Anibal nodded, impressed.

“That would not fly here. I needed to ensure Gen knew she was in Panamá and we would not accept her workaholic ways. Y’all talk about work-life balance but don’t even know what that means,” Anita said, siding with Anibal.

How did they go from sniping at each other to ganging up on me? Damn.

“And you still slipped off today to work after I’d given everyone a half day. But I couldn’t say much because you’re technically over me.” Anita gave me her signature glare. She should know better. I’d already grown accustomed to her tough love. Besides, I appreciated Anita’s perspective. She embodied the example of someone who valued their personal life as much as their career—a Black leader just like me, who was successful in her own right. Would Anita be equally as successful with her philosophy outside of Panamá? Ugh, here I was, thinking like Mom, judging everything from the lens of overachievement.

At this point, I’d realized my judgment of people’s ambition was a bug instead of a feature, one that I worked hard on minimizing. I had no business expecting everyone to see the world through my eyes. Anita’s vibe had captivated me from day one, and I wouldn’t let the phantom of my mother’s expectations color my perception of Anita’s drive.

It was time to move on.

“Listen here... I didn’t rush to change in my office, to come to be attacked at this event. I could have just stayed, wrapping everything up before my vacation. So, with that, I bid you both adios. I’m going to mingle.” I waltzed away from Anibal and Anita as they both chuckled at my departure.

The dissatisfaction I’d been feeling lately with my career gnawed at me in the oddest moments. Two years, I’d been working hard for the next step in my career, and each month closer to the finish line my doubts popped up more and more. I didn’t want to give my concerns any space tonight. Tonight was all about celebrating more firsts.

An hour of hugs and kisses followed. Damn, I thought Floridians were touchy-feely, but Panamanians won the affectionate Olympics. After a few glasses of champagne, I was ready to call it a night. I searched for Anibal and Anita, but they were both in the middle of an intense conversation with a few other general managers in the area. All my forced extroversion had dissolved away with the alcohol in my system.

Only my quiet apartment could save me now.

Going down the marble stairs of the grand lobby, I held on to the railing, feeling lightheaded and jittery.

A whole two weeks off. And I’d asserted myself to my mother. I really did kill it today.

Now, if only I’d had someone to celebrate my wins with, that would have made this a great day. The rush of displeasure returned, threatening to wash away the joy of the night. I’d never needed someone, never wanted a life partner. Casual companions were enough to fulfill my physical needs and occasional social needs.

Travel and time off had been rewards for a job well done, and I hadn’t reached my next goal, so stopping to indulge seemed counterproductive. The few friends that I had were as career driven as I, and understood what it took to be on this path. Self-care used to feel like self-indulgence until I slowly started taking time to rest, taking a couple of days after a work trip to explore a new city or accepting a few more dates than before.

Lately, a bug of discontent had bitten me, and I didn’t know if I wanted to give it voice and space.

The dissatisfaction had been gradual. But the intensity ramped up, starting with talks with Anita sharing her impending nuptials. Then my best friend, Gino, met someone that made him happier than I’d seen him in years, but the actual start had been...

A familiar tall Black man awaited at the bottom of the steps. His brawny body rested against the wall next to the exit, and I flushed hotly at the sight of him. Thank God for my deep mahogany skin that hid any redness. Every time I saw him, he elicited a convulsion of emotions inside.

Not every man could handle my five-seven height and solid bones, but this man right here? He could probably hoist me up on his broad shoulders and carry me away like a bag full of balloons. Just the thought made my heart skip. I may or may not have used that exact image as my finger bank these past few months.

He wore a crisp white shirt opened at the collar, and faded jeans encased his thick thighs, his warm chestnut complexion enticing me to touch.

What would it feel to run my lips right there at his collarbone?

Realizing I had my horny face on, my gaze flicked back to his eyes. His mischievous deep brown eyes flashed with heat, then his every-present mask of politeness returned.

The smile made me shiver, and the dimple on his right cheek had me saying a brief prayer for sanity. The close-cropped hair had been freshly cut since this morning.

Did he do that for me? Nah, I knew better. He was just here to do his job.

“Buenas noches, Ms. Raymond,” said Adrián Nicolas. My driver.