by Anne Leigh
Okay, Nalee, this is not the time to be drooling over a potential client.
“Nalee Sands. It’s a pleasure meeting all of you today,” I intoned, hoping my voice didn’t drip with the potential drool accumulating in my mouth.
His amused smile was filled with meaning as he introduced the older gentlemen who came in with him. “Robert Briles, senior partner, and Justin Kirkland, managing partner.” The two men shook Stephanie’s and my hands and nodded their heads while Devon continued to speak, “We’re pleased that your company has looked at our proposal and hopefully this will signal the beginning of our project.”
“Gentlemen, no rush,” Stephanie chided, her carefully coiffed blonde hair moved in sync with her head. There wasn’t a strand that was getting loose anytime soon. She’d perfected the vibe of snooty, cold platinum blonde woman down to a science. Only her closest staff got to see the softer side of her. As a boss, she was unforgiving of mistakes. However, she also knew when to back off and to let someone else take over. “Ms. Sands has the complete report on your proposal.”
“I thought you were commanding the ship, Steph,” the silver fox named Robert Briles cut in before sitting in his chair.
My brow might have lifted a millimeter at the rather familiar way he talked to my former boss. Since when did anyone ever call Stephanie “Steph”?
“Ms. Sands is now in command of that ship and she’s doing an excellent job.” Stephanie eyed me and I took that as my cue.
Stepping to the front, I clicked on the wireless laser pointer and the blank screen came to life. The small group held a respectful silence as I began. “These slides show the locations where ZeroGrid Energy is proposing for the wells to be drilled.”
The slides changed and I continued to show exactly what they were proposing. It was important for the clients to see that we had taken everything into consideration according to their plan.
“Now here’s where the beauty of the proposal doesn’t match the reality.” A palpable, eerie tension belied the astute stares of the representatives of the third biggest oil driller in the country. If our company agreed to the project, we’d be able to get a massive commission, but my job wasn’t about the money. My job was to ensure that the projects that I would now be handing out to Stephanie’s team would have the least risk for the environment; that the companies who came to us received expert advice, and that I was responsible for making sure that every detail does not get missed.
“If you drill here,” I pointed the laser to the specific area a few miles away from the Golden Gate Bridge, “not only will you be compromising the natural habitat of over 130 species of fish, you also run into the possibility that if there was an oil spill, you’ll have a massive disaster to clean up.” I’d pored over this analysis multiple times and I arrived at the same conclusion.
“We’ve approved numerous projects for your company.” My palms started to sweat and I could feel the clicker getting wet between my fingertips. “But there’s no way in good conscience we can put our company’s stamp of approval on this one.”
I continued, “We have several alternatives listed in the documents you’re holding so please take a few minutes to look through them –“
“Stop right there, Ms. Sands,” the cutting voice of the gray-haired gentleman whom I recognized as Robert Briles, senior partner and was one of San Francisco’s most influential developer, commanded the room. “I believe you’ve said enough and we’ve heard enough.”
He thumbed through the documents I was referring to and without looking at me, addressed my boss, Stephanie, who was sitting across from him. “Stephanie, this is not a project that your assistant should be handling. We have investors waiting on us for the final go. You should have warned me that your little assistant here would be handling this so I could have talked to Lemar before we wasted our time here.”
By Lemar, I knew he meant Senator Lemar Keyes, San Francisco’s charismatic leader and major proponent of the private oil drilling and just last week had sponsored a bill that expanded the drilling areas. As good he was towards his supporters, he was not someone whom I was fond of. Before he became a senator, he was rumored to be involved in some underground illegal activities which seemed to have vanished before he was elected into office. He was the best friend of private companies such as Briles and Sons, who needed a legislator to sign off on their projects even without the backing of EPA.
My boss barely raised a brow before saying, “Be careful on where you’re leading this conversation, Robert. You might find yourself being challenged by hundreds of environmental groups before you set foot in your office by evening time. I trust Ms Sands’ conclusions, and by the way, she is not my assistant, she is an executive member of our team.”
“It’s not wise to cross me, Stephanie,” Robert’s posture was stiff and the look that he gave my boss reminded me of the way Ms. Jones, the librarian at CSUF, would reprimand me and my friends for talking too loudly in the quiet areas of the library. There were areas where you could talk in a conversational voice and not be asked to step out, but then there were areas where absolute silence was required. Ms. Jones was the royal guard of summus silentio. Absolute silence or else your library privileges would be revoked. Anyways Robert had the same posture, the same hard stare, and uncompromising hardened jaw. Did I mention Ms. Jones used to be a Mr. Jones? And while she had changed most of her looks to become a woman, the masculine jawline was still intact and would be kind of hard to chisel, so that’s how we were able to absolutely tell that she was a man at one time.
Oh Dear Lord, why am I thinking of Mr. — errrr, Ms. Jones at this important time of my life? It was not only disconcerting, but also certainly not needed.
Robert went on about how our report would delay everything that their company had scheduled for half a year and how this would negatively affect our company’s relationship with theirs. Just as Robert’s mouth opened to elaborate on just how bad my findings were to their company’s plans, Devon cut in as politely as he could.
“I believe that what Robert is trying to say…” His blue eyes focused on me, “is that we would like for you to re-evaluate the report after we’ve made some changes to the draft per your recommendations.”
The man who he was speaking for clearly did not have the same opinion as Devon, because the hard line of Robert’s mouth was still plastered on his face, and while he was in the act of saying something again, Devon continued, “This is my proposal, Ms. Sands. While my team contributed to the plan, ninety percent of what you have reviewed came from me. So it is only fitting that I, I mean our company, be given the opportunity to review your recommendations and make necessary adjustments.”
With a quick glance over to my boss, I ran out of anything to say so I nodded, feeling the hair on the back of my neck electrified by the way Devon was taking charge of the situation and the way he was looking at me was, well, let me just say that it was not appropriate for the meeting.
Stephanie, quickly standing from her chair and glancing at her watch, said, “Well thank you for your time, gentlemen. I believe that our next meeting will be quite interesting. Devon, please direct all your questions to Nalee. She will continue to be the lead contact for this.”
“Will be happy to,” Devon answered, his gaze on me, ignoring the almost bewildered looks of the men he worked along with.
“Robert, we’ll talk. Justin, nice meeting you. Devon, we’ll hear from you soon.” Stephanie was cordially dismissing the males in the room. “Nalee, I’ll see you after my meeting.”
She had a meeting with another project manager from the East Coast. She didn’t have to be in this particular meeting, but because it was my first big project she was here to show support. Since the meeting was going downhill, I was glad that Stephanie was here to back me up.
I replied, “I’ll be in my office.”
Stephanie gave me a quick smile before stepping out of the room. A few seconds later, Robert with his eye on Stephanie’s retreating b
ack, quickly followed her out. Justin stood up, walked towards me, and held out his left hand. “Nice meeting you, Nalee. I’m sure Devon will keep us posted on what we need to do so that we can have this project started.”
Giving him a small smile and shaking his hand with my right, I stated, “Thank you.”
“For the record, I see all your points and from what I can discern, they’re all valid,” he acknowledged. He didn’t speak much in the meeting. Maybe it was because Robert had spoken before anyone else could. And while I didn’t need an appraisal of my skills or my findings, it was still nice to know that my hard work had paid off. Two out of the three representatives from Briles and Sons, one of San Francisco’s respected business development firms, were saying that I did a good job. I didn’t need it to pad my ego, yet it was a good feeling to have. Late nights. Hours and hours of Indian and Chinese take-out. Migraine-inducing eye strains on the computer. These were the perks of my job, so yes, I would take a compliment as it comes.
He addressed Devon. “Let me know how you plan to change the emissions during the development phase as Nalee outlined. Maybe we could work on using a different generator...or reduce the impact of nitrogen oxide and carbon monoxide during blasts. We have some work cut out for us, but I’m sure we’ll find a way.”
Devon raised a brow and grinned. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
After Justin left, I walked to the empty seats and started picking up the papers on the table.
“When I was in college, I met this amazing girl at my frat’s party. She was,” putting his hand up in the air, “yay high and she had these gorgeous eyes...”
I kept picking up the scattered sheets on the glass table, perceiving a hint of nostalgia in his voice, and keeping track of where he was standing through my peripheral vision.
“I thought to myself, ‘She’s beautiful.’ And when I talked to her, I said, ‘She’s hilarious.’ Beauty and humor. That’s a rare combination in women at that time. And now — extremely rare.”
I reached for a piece of paper in the middle of the table, my blouse lifting to stretch and I lowered my hand down as soon as I realized that I had inadvertently flashed him my stomach.
“That’s, um, interesting,” I said, confused as to why he was talking about his college days. Didn’t he have to be somewhere? My mind was occupied with what had happened during the meeting and the key points of improvement that I wanted to run by Stephanie later. I thought we’d finished and I was just waiting on him to leave so I could turn the lights off before I left the conference room.
“I wanted to ask her out, but when I asked her if she was with someone at the party, she’d nodded and pointed to a guy who I used to hang out with, but he became an ultimate douchebag so I was actually surprised to see him at the party. For a medical student, he was a dumb one.”
My hands stilled at the mention of medical student.
He stepped into my personal bubble and with his right hand he touched my forearm, and I felt the air in the room warping into a slow simmer of heat. Goosebumps started to form across the back of my neck, rapidly spreading across my arms.
“I may have been a typical college guy who imbibed in large quantities of alcohol and way too many extra curricular activities outside the study halls, but I adhered to a cardinal rule to not get involved with women who were already with someone else. Especially if she was with someone I knew, no matter how idiotic he might be.” His devastatingly blue eyes were fixed on me, and lowering his gaze to my lips, he added, “He deserved whatever you did to him. I heard what happened to him and some of my friends who happened to be his friends wanted to avenge his image on social media, but I was the first one to speak out against him. Because a woman who had beauty and humor couldn’t have done what she did for no good reason.”
My throat went dry at his remarks, I eeked out, “You knew me from college? How?”
He nodded his head, “You had one too many tequila shots, Nalee. But you were still funny and didn’t make a fuss when I’d accidentally sloshed my tenth drink that night on your tank top. Instead you laughed and took off your top and asked me for my shirt in exchange. So how can a woman like you not make an impression on me?”
“Oh my gosh.” I contained the embarassed squeal inside my throat. “That was you? I thought I dreamt it, but when I woke up, I wondered whose shirt I was wearing and obviously it wasn’t Jerome’s because he never wore anything that wasn’t Ralph Lauren or Armani-approved.”
“Imagine my luck when I saw you today, Nalee.” His eyes darkened with unabashed interest, the honesty in his voice evident, his hand still on my arm, he kept going, “Robert was being an arrogant brat with his comments. You don’t deserve them. I scanned through your research and now I can add brains among your assets.”
“I’m bummed that my proposal didn’t pan out at first.” His face was lit up, he looked nothing close to bummed, his blue eyes shone in amusement. “But now I’m very pleased that we have to make changes because this means we’ll be working quite closely…for a while.”
His hand left my forearm and found its way to the bottom of my chin. It was way too close for personal comfort, but he hadn’t given me time to react.
“Beauty, humor and brains. Nalee Sands, I’d like to make it official. My name is Devon Wahler. And one day, I’ll put a ring on your finger.”
Oh.
My.
Frickin’ Frack.
The wind against my face felt cold, nippy. During these months, humidity was high but the air coming in from the bay made the incoming air cool. I never liked warm weather. I loved cooler months, but not the snow. Ask anyone from my hometown if they loved snow. They’d tell you they love it for a minute and for the rest of the winter months they hate it enough that they’d take one hundred degree weather for the whole year rather than shovel and dig their cars out of the icy blocks.
I felt my phone attached to the right side pocket of my yoga pants buzz.
Not wanting to break my running speed, I let it go to voicemail.
Two seconds later, it buzzed again.
Passing by my favorite smoothie place, I knew I was nearing my four mile mark, savoring the smell of the fresh ocean water on an evening like this. There were so many little shops and boutiques close by my place that made it safe for me to jog even late at night. I’d prefer to jog in the morning, but my office hours did not allow it. I’d rather sleep an hour more than exercise and everyone who was close to me was aware of this fact. When we were in college, Tanya often dragged Sedona and I to some new exercise phenomenon – barre, pilates, underwater yoga – I tried them all. And I went willingly. I just had one rule: No voluntary movement or anything requiring physical effort before 8 AM.
Feeling the burn on my legs and thighs as I gained more speed, I breathed in and exhaled longer. My lungs expanded to accommodate the extra exertion I was subjecting my body to. The extra seven pounds on my stomach and thighs was not going to magically disappear. I wasn’t in a hurry to lose it either. In another time, I would have gained thirty or forty more pounds and I would have welcomed it. Because it would mean one thing: she was breathing, growing, living inside of me.
A trickle of tears escaped my eyes and I blew air from my mouth to stop myself from hyperventilating. Everyone says it takes a while to get over it. That with time everything will feel better. That one day I’d wake up, open my windows, and greet the sun again as it rises from the dawn. That I’d forget how I felt and move on.
I think everyone is a liar.
How could everything feel better when nothing would ever be the same?
How could I forget when I never wanted to let go of her?
How could I get over it, over her, over what happened, when her memory was the one thing that kept me going?
The sympathetic nurse who gave me her shoulders to cry on had wrapped her in a pink blanket and soothed me said that she’d pray for me to find a way to move on.
At that time, I’d clung on to her wor
ds as if they were my lifeline.
Every hour had seemed like a year. Every day a lifetime.
I knew everyone was a liar.
I wouldn’t move on from her. I wouldn’t ever forget her.
She occupied a space inside of me that would forever be hers. No one and nothing could ever replace her.
When I’d asked for a reason, Dr. Hosier, my OB-GYN, explained that a clotting disorder had resulted in a miscarriage. It was inevitable. My baby wasn’t going to make it through the whole pregnancy so nature had taken its course and took her from me.
Slowing myself down, I expelled the breath I’d been holding for a minute and glanced at my watch, 7:55, before stopping and stretching my legs on top of the lowest steel bar that surrounded this side of the building, separating it from the road.
“Whew, it took me thirty three minutes to run this tonight!” I exclaimed, feeling the heat from the back of my neck as I massaged a tender spot.
“A new record for you.” His eyes rose to meet mine, his hand holding a small green towel which he slowly wrapped around my back as soon as he reached me.
A kiss on my left cheek, a pat on my right shoulder, and a cold bottle of water was handed to me.
He was ready for me tonight.
I could tell he’d just come from work. His tie was slightly crooked and he was wearing a dark blue dress shirt that fit his solid form perfectly.
He held my hand as we walked towards his car, the roaring engine of a muscle car behind us deafening the silence between he and I.
He didn’t say a word as he opened the passenger seat of his car so I could get in.
As soon as he sat on the driver’s side, he pulled my arm so I could cradle my head on the right side of his chest, the center console separating us by a few lengths.
I think everyone was a liar.
I knew everyone was.
But he was the biggest liar of them all.
He’d promised me he’d never leave me.
On the days I needed him, he pushed me away.
