by Lee, Nadia
“Erin seems a little distracted,” Gerry says, handing me a memo in the conference room where we’re to have the presentation for the Ivy Foundation. “Is everything okay?”
None of your business pops into my mind, but I control myself. “She’s been working hard on this. Probably just nervous.”
“We all have,” Gerry mutters. His snide tone says, If she can’t handle the pressure, she should stay home.
“What did you say?” I ask sharply.
“I said I hope everything goes well. You know I worked my butt off for this. I don’t want anything to mess it up.”
I merely nod, not wanting to get into an argument right before a big meeting. Something about Gerry rubs me the wrong now and then, but he’s right about working hard. He’s never shirked a task, and he always seeks out more responsibility.
Still, it irks me that he’s acting like Erin’s presence is a net negative for the presentation. So I decide to go ahead and keep her in the meeting.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Erin
All day long, I feel twitchy. David keeps looking at me funny because I’ve never avoided him like this before, but I can’t stop thinking about what he said after the show on TV.
So refusing eye contact with him is your solution?
No. But… I can’t bring myself to meet David’s gaze for long. It’s probably just me being silly, but last night was far worse than the tampon incident.
I skip lunch because I can’t bear the idea of food. Everything in the cafeteria and deli looks gross. But even though I lost my appetite, my stomach starts growling ten minutes before the people from the Ivy Foundation are supposed to show up. And my head decides to start spinning a bit.
I grab a Snickers bar from a vending machine and gobble it down. I tell myself not to get too nervous, since I’m only there to take notes and pass out documents with specific research and data David might need during the presentation. Don’t get too nervous…but this meeting is a big freakin’ deal. The Ivy Foundation is backed by one of the largest conglomerates in Korea, and apparently it’s the chairman’s daughter’s pet project.
When the building’s reception desk calls to let us know that the representatives from the foundation are here, David and I wait for their arrival in front of the elevator. Per my notes, the chairman’s daughter Yuna Hae is going to be here herself.
The elevator doors open with a soft chime. I stare, my jaw going slack.
The woman who steps out is maybe five-five, but looks much taller thanks to sky-high stilettos in bright red. Her mouth rests in a neutral line, and is coated with the same shade of red as those gorgeous shoes. A pale, wide-brimmed hat sits over a delicate face with large, bright eyes, a small nose and smooth, poreless skin. Her hair is glossy auburn, long and perfectly cut and styled. The dress she has on is cream-colored and fitted to accentuate her slim body, and her accessories, from earrings to necklace, look not just expensive but exceptional. Interestingly, her nails are short and neatly trimmed, although meticulously lacquered in the dreamiest shade of pink. The rest of her says she should have long, fussy nails that require a team of manicurists working overtime to maintain.
Eight people follow—two women and six men. They’re all in basic corporate black and white, their suits crisp. The women’s makeup looks as fresh as if they haven’t been up and about since the morning.
“I’m David Darling, and this is my assistant Erin Clare. You must be Yuna Hae. Nice to meet you,” David says, stepping forward with a friendly smile.
“The pleasure’s mine,” she says in a modulated tone, shaking his hand. Her smile is reserved but warm enough, and her English is unaccented and smooth. Her gaze flicks to me for a moment, but then goes back to David.
Well, I’m making about as much of an impression as a piece of furniture. But I’m also glad; it would be embarrassing to offer my slightly sweaty hand to a woman so poised and cool.
She doesn’t introduce her team. The woman standing to her left leans over and whispers something in her ear. Probably a state secret.
David’s smile doesn’t falter. “This way. We’ve got everything set up for the presentation, and I think you’ll appreciate what a partnership can do to help the Ivy Foundation grow.”
“Thank you,” Yuna says. “I’ve been impressed with your new video capabilities, especially the sound. Clarity of sound is critical.”
Makes sense. The Ivy Foundation is for aspiring musicians, after all.
David leads her to our largest and most ostentatiously impressive conference room. Several people from marketing already have laptops hooked to the big screen in front. Gerry sets up the PowerPoint presentation on the computer, then looks up.
Yuna stiffens next to David, then stops moving altogether.
Gerry freezes, then opens and closes his mouth a couple of times.
What the heck? Do they know each other? They’re reacting like exes who had a bad breakup. But when would he have had the chance to date an Asian heiress like her?
Her expression cools until it makes me shiver. She turns to David. “I’m afraid the Ivy Foundation cannot work with Sweet Darlings.” Her tone is flat—and colder than an iceberg. “Thank you for your time.”
Holy shit. I swallow a gasp.
David’s smile vanishes. He glances at Gerry, who is staring at his fingers with supreme concentration, then looks at her closely. “I can’t force you to work with us, but can I at least know why you changed your mind so suddenly? Without even having seen our presentation?”
“I don’t work with people with poor sense of judgment and boundaries. Such people always do something to embarrass not only themselves, but their business partners.” She looks at Gerry briefly before turning to David again. “The Ivy Foundation does not bear the name Hae Min, and it has no profit motive, and I have no ambition to be involved in Hae Min Group’s management. But that doesn’t mean the foundation and I do not represent my father’s company and its values. It’s a matter of pride, reputation and honor. We do not work with entities that employ men who think it’s acceptable to grope women in public. I also do not believe such a man will say anything worth listening to.”
Oh my God. I always thought Gerry was a condescending smarmy jerk, but groping?
David’s face turns red. This is not one of the possible scenarios and reactions we went over. “What…did he do?”
“He should know,” she says frostily. “It happened only on Monday. Not even forty-eight hours have passed.”
“Gerry?” David says calmly. But the calm is a front.
The muscle under his left eye is twitching. That means he’s angry enough to murder somebody. I’ve seen this reaction when our rival company stole our marketing idea and launched it first, thereby making us scramble to find a way to salvage ours overnight. The person responsible for that is no longer working for Sweet Darlings, Inc. The last I heard, he’s scrubbing toilets at Taco Bell.
“I…don’t know what she’s talking about.” Gerry’s Adam’s apple bobs.
Good God. He’s a terrible liar. He should at least look David in the eye if he wants to be believable.
“I’m sure the bar will be happy to provide security footage of you touching me inappropriately. You also fled without paying for your drinks and chicken wings.” Yuna’s voice lacks inflection, but it drips with contempt.
The six men behind her glare at Gerry like he’s a roach they’re dying to crush under their heels.
Gerry doesn’t even try to speak. He is so red now that it wouldn’t surprise me if he keeled over with a stroke. Or an aneurysm.
“Gerry, go wait in my office and we’ll have a talk.” David says it in the most terrible voice I’ve ever heard from him. Gerry’s going to wish he’d only had a stroke.
Shoulders hunched, he gets up and leaves without a peep.
Yuna follows his movement with cold disdain, then faces David again. “Anyway, thank you for your time.” She starts to turn to leave.
> No! David and his team worked too hard on the presentation to let it end like this.
“Wait!” I say, raising my hand. I can’t let her leave like this. I run toward her, but her men block me. “I have something to say.”
She stops, then frowns at me. “This isn’t school. You don’t have to raise your hand before you speak.” She waves at her men, who move away, then glances at her slim, expensive-looking watch. “You have one minute.”
My face hot, I clear my throat. Despite her mild rebuke, I have to get this out before I burst with the outrage over the injustice swelling in my chest. “I know what Gerry did is terrible, but please don’t think we’re all like him. We are not. Sweet Darlings, Inc. deserves a chance to make its case to you and your foundation.”
She’s studying me so closely and silently that I wonder if I have chocolate smeared on my lips. Which I might. I scarfed that Snickers down fast.
My stomach roiling, I forge on. “We have great people here, Ms. Hae. I mean great. David, for one, is an amazing VP and a fount of creative ideas. He also cares deeply about his team and integrity. What Gerry did at the bar wasn’t something David or the company could’ve controlled. But since you brought it up, it’ll be promptly investigated and handled.” Even if it isn’t in the HR manual, it’ll be done, especially based on David’s reaction to Yuna’s accusation. God, I wish I had something more to say, but my mind is empty and my mouth is dry. I long to reach over, grab one of glasses of iced water on the table and gulp it all down, but I dare not move. She hasn’t said she changed her mind, and I can’t let her leave. Not like this.
She continues to stare at me, then finally leans back. “You’re David Darling’s fiancée, aren’t you?”
Huh? She wants to talk about that now? “Yes.”
“Thought so. You seemed really familiar. No wonder. I saw the video of you and David. Anyway, don’t you think you’re a tad biased?” she asks.
Okay, she has a point, but it isn’t even that valid, since David and I are fake engaged. Not that I can say that. “No. I wouldn’t have accepted his proposal if I didn’t think he was a great guy.” And I hope she understands that I’m not just saying it for the business. I mean every syllable.
She glances down. “He has nice taste in jewelry, too.”
I raise my hand, extending the fingers so she can see the ring better. “Yes. Very.”
Yuna sighs, her eyebrows pulled tight. After a moment of consideration, she turns to David. “Fine. I’ll listen to the presentation as a courtesy to your fiancée’s impassioned speech. But you people had better be Mozart amazing.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
David
“Mozart amazing? I’ll give you Stravinsky stupendous,” I say with a smile, trying to hide my relief. My background research revealed that Yuna likes Russian composers. Apparently she’s an exceptional pianist who studied at the Curtis Institute of Music.
The heiress finally cracks a smile. “Fine.”
Good. She’s no longer pissed off. When I’m done here, I’m going to roast Gerry. Then fire his ass. Or maybe I’ll toss him out the window first, and fire his ass on his way down.
I start the presentation. Yuna listens, while the two women she brought along take notes. Erin does the same.
When I’m near the end, Erin tucks a stray strand behind her ear and puts the end of her pen in her mouth. She looks adorable and so incredibly young like that. I’m still surprised and touched that she spoke up. I know she was nervous. I saw her hands shaking, and she had that lip between her teeth almost the whole time.
“Do you have any questions?” I say, turning on the lights as I hit the button to show the final slide that reads: Q & A.
Yuna looks at her people. They shake their heads.
“I don’t believe so,” she says coolly, her expression utterly composed. She’s probably a hell of a poker player. “You laid your case out very well.” She stands. “You’ll hear from us in two weeks with our decision.”
I’m mildly disappointed. I didn’t expect her to make a decision here on the spot, but I thought we’d end on a friendlier note. On the other hand, it’s a miracle she stayed at all.
Fucking Gerry.
Hiding my emotions, I give her my most amicable smile. “Excellent. I’ll look forward to it.”
Yuna and her entourage leave. I return to my office, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension that’s built up. Erin walks with me, holding her laptop in front of her.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. I’m fine. It didn’t exactly go the way I wanted, but at least we got to give our pitch.” I stop and face her. I want her to know how much I appreciate it, and how much it meant to me that she said what she said. Her high opinion of me matters so much more than ultimately winning over Yuna Hae. There will be other opportunities. But Erin is…well, one of a kind. “Thank you, Erin. Really. It couldn’t have been easy to speak up like that.” Actually, I can’t remember a time when she jumped in to say something. Maybe her being a bit aloof was just nerves about the meeting, especially since I told her how Alexandra was monitoring this one.
Erin flushes. Her blue eyes shine like a lake on a sunny day, and there’s a lovely glow to her.
My heart beats funny. And my chest feels oddly achy.
“It’s nothing,” she says with a smile. “I did what anybody would do. You took a chance on me when I had no experience or education, and you’ve pulled me along for two years. It’s the least I could do to repay your kindness.”
What she’s saying makes sense. And every word out of her mouth is complimentary. But I’m inexplicably displeased. And vaguely insulted.
Then it dawns on me. I don’t want her gratitude. I want…
Damn it. I don’t even know what I want from her, but gratitude definitely isn’t it.
“David?” she asks, peering up at me.
I realize I’ve been frowning. I paste on a smile. “Just thinking about Gerry,” I say.
But it really doesn’t matter what I want, because Erin isn’t going to give something to me when I don’t even know what it is.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Erin
“Hey, hey, I heard. Wow,” Bev says, stopping by my desk. “Mad respect, girl.”
“Thank you.” I give her a smile that I’m sure is, as they say, wan. I like my life to be as under-the-radar as possible. But at the same time, I’m proud of myself for speaking up. I’m willing to deal with the attention if it means regaining a chance to fix the situation with the foundation for David.
She leans closer. “I can’t believe Gerry is that kind of guy,” she whispers loudly, then stares as though trying to hypnotize me into spilling everything that happened in the conference room.
“We’ll have to investigate,” I say, refusing to give her the gossip she’s looking for. That isn’t my job, and David made it clear when he hired me that he expects me to exercise discretion.
“He’s getting fired, huh?”
“I’m sure David will stick to the HR procedure.”
“Definitely getting fired.” She gazes at David’s door. “I wish I could sneak in and listen when he reams Gerry.”
“Why?” I can’t think of anything more awkward than being present when somebody’s getting verbally beaten up.
“Because.” Bev laughs a little. “It’s going to be fun. Aren’t you even a little curious?” she asks, leaning closer like we’re co-conspirators.
“Nope.” I gesture at my computer. “Look, I really have to finish the meeting minutes.”
“Fine, fine. I know when I’m not wanted.” She straightens slowly, looking at me all the while.
I don’t say anything to stop her from going away. Trying to deal with her constant need for gossip can be tiring, especially when I’m not interested.
Sighing, she leaves, mumbling something about how un-fun I am. I don’t care, though. Being thought as un-fun is far more desirable than being thought of as weird or co
nstantly talking about people behind their backs. Gossip and whispers about me and my mom really hurt when I was growing up in Saintsville, and I don’t want to be part of anything like that. Not with Bev, not with anyone.
But Bev isn’t the only person who wants to say something. Other people stop by to give me atta girls.
“That was very brave of you.”
“I didn’t know you could be so outspoken.”
“You did good.”
Maybe if I wanted people to like me, or wanted them to be my friends, I’d enjoy the praise. But their reactions just make me uncomfortable. I don’t like the way they act like they know me. It reminds me too much of the kids in Saintsville. They all acted like they knew me…talked about me and my mom like they knew everything. Nothing I did or said made a difference if it didn’t align with what they wanted to believe. I soon realized that the best way to deal with it was to be as unobtrusive and invisible as possible. If nobody notices you, nobody gossips about you.
Simple.
Now my coworkers are angling for a happy hour, paid for with David’s expense account even though it’s only Wednesday. It doesn’t help that even David thinks the marketing department should have a drink or two after work. He says I should come. But why? I’ve never had to attend one of those before.
The worst is that I can’t even escape his attention. I’m going to be back at his place tonight.
You should’ve been more careful not to speak up like that. You were doing so well, keeping your head down and working hard without getting noticed too much.
Groaning, I say okay to David’s suggestion for a departmental drink because I can’t come up with a good excuse to beg off.
“Don’t forget to set up your new phone,” he adds, his eyes going to the box that contains my replacement unit.
I force a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
I rip into the box, venting my frustration on the helpless packaging. The new phone is so shiny and sleek. Weird how that is; it’s the same model as the one that got smashed.
