by Riley Storm
A rainstorm. Fall was here now, and there would be many of those to come, he thought with a detached smile. Fall was his second favorite season after spring. It was always so wet, so proper. He loved it.
A face appeared over him, blocking the sky.
“Are you done yet?” Aaric asked angrily, his skin all blotched and red. “Or do we need to keep going?”
One hand came into Victor’s view, fingers outstretched, ready to help him up.
“I don’t understand,” Victor moaned. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Nothing,” Aaric said. “I swear, whatever happened, it’s a coincidence. Now, if you want, you can take my hand, and we’ll go inside and talk about it. Or, I can hit you with this, and then we’ll talk while you recover.”
His other hand moved into view and Victor flinched away at the mini sun contained in his palm. That would hurt if he was hit with it. It would hurt a lot.
Victor sighed and reached for the open hand. What other choice did he have?
5
Cheryl paused outside the meeting room, dreading what was about to come.
After the fiasco of their first meeting with Victor, she’d sent them off to work on other tasks under the guise of them needing to give Victor some time to think of a counter-proposal she’d given him after talking privately.
It was a lie and she suspected that Tanya, and possibly Stephen, had seen right through it. What else was she supposed to have done? The Outreach Center was going to be the crowning jewel in the last ten years of Plymouth Falls’ development, if not more. The idea that it could just so suddenly go up in smoke, flushed away by the words of a man who she knew was on some sort of petty agenda was, to say the least, shocking. Nobody was ready to hear that.
But she had to tell them. The lie could only go on for so long. She’d told it to buy herself some time, time to regroup, to hopefully hear back from Victor about the changes, and try to salvage as much as possible.
If I can just get him to agree to fifty-percent reduction, I can save this. I’ll tell them the Drakons initially wanted twenty-five, but I managed to get them up to fifty. It’s still a huge project at that size. Nobody will complain too much, lest we risk losing that as well. I can make them believe it’s still at risk, that only my skills are keeping it together.
Hopefully. All of that, of course, was predicated on her ability to get Victor to come to the negotiating table and come up from his paltry ten percent of the original size of the project.
Which seems unlikely.
Steeling herself with a deep breath, Cheryl pushed open the door. There was no point in standing around outside for much longer. It was going to happen, so she may as well get it over with.
“Hello everyone,” she said with a smile. At least she didn’t have to force that.
As much as she was dreading telling them what was going on, Cheryl truly liked every member of her team. They were good, solid people who knew their jobs and weren’t afraid to work hard at them.
“Thanks for coming,” she said, sitting down.
When she didn’t open her laptop or pull out any papers, the others exchanged glances with one another. They knew this wasn’t going to be good.
“How bad?” Liz asked, the first to speak.
That surprised her because Liz was usually the quietest of the group. Cheryl hadn’t expected her to take the lead on this, and her respect for the woman—also the youngest—grew several levels right then and there.
“I’m not going to lie to you,” she said. Not again, at least. “It’s bad. Really bad. I don’t know what came up with the Drakon family, but they are pulling the plug from under this in everything but name. It wouldn’t surprise me if they try to fully cancel it after we quite rightly express our shock and outrage.”
“Word has it you already did that.”
She looked at Stephen. There was nothing accusatory in his tone. Just a quest for more information.
“I should have known that the rumor mill would spread that around,” she said with a tiny sliver of a laugh, diffusing any tension, letting Stephen know she wasn’t taking his words personally.
The others relaxed. “I heard you went for the throat,” Tanya said, chiming in for the first time. “No holds barred.”
“What were you guys doing, standing outside the room?” she said, feeling slightly embarrassed at the pride all three of them were now radiating toward her. What was going on?
“We work in an office, Cheryl. You know someone is always nearby. Especially when voices get raised.”
“I told him how I felt about his decision to downsize, yes,” she admitted, uncomfortable at the attention. “I was…not happy about it.”
“He didn’t relent, did he?” Liz asked, drumming fingers on the tabletop. When Cheryl shook her head, Liz nodded in understanding. “How badly is he fucking us over, then?”
Liz put a slight emphasis on the word us, which Cheryl knew meant more than just those in the room and the people directly involved in the project. Liz was talking about Plymouth Falls as a whole. The entire town would stand to benefit from the project, but now the Drakons were looking at pulling back from it and the two couldn’t do it all themselves. The funds simply weren’t there.
“Badly,” she said with a sigh. “Worse than your scariest projections.”
Silence reigned for a long time until Stephen broke it, asking the question they all wanted to know the answer to. “How much worse?”
“He wants to slash it to ten percent of the original size and budget.”
Moans and groans erupted from her team. Stephen banged his closed fist on the table. Liz bent over, resting her forehead on her arms as she buried her face in them. Tanya sagged backward in her chair, looking skyward.
“I know,” she said. “I know. I…I wasn’t going to tell you how bad,” she admitted. “Because I want to try and convince him to change his mind. I still think there’s a chance.”
“How good of one?” Liz interrupted.
“Not very,” she said, wondering how the meeting had gone so off-course from what she’d planned. “But definitely still one. If we can get them to re-commit to say, fifty percent of the original, that’s still very significant. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I think we all know that getting them to go back to the original plans isn’t likely. Not given the way Victor treated us the other day.”
She felt her blood flow faster at the memory of him. Of being cloistered in the small office so close to him. He’d been right there just a few feet away from her, the warm air the only thing that had been between them. It was hard to forget a memory like that. Not when it was of him. So big, so powerful. Such a jerk.
And yet, so very memorable.
Cheryl cursed herself for twisting the memory. She couldn’t get her mind off of his body. It was like her brain wanted to forget what he’d been saying, as confusing and rude as it was, and instead focus on something pleasant. So, it had chosen Victor’s attractiveness and latched on to that.
I am not attracted to him! I’m not!
With that issue settled, she returned her attention to her team.
“So what now?” Stephen wanted to know. “How do we turn this around? If we’re the team associated with losing this project, you know we’re not going to be long for our jobs. We need to find a way to market this as a win.”
It bothered her to hear her team talking about this in terms of political capital. Thinking about how to save their jobs, instead of doing their jobs. It wasn’t like they had done anything to jeopardize the project. It was all being done because of something in Victor and Aaric’s end.
Something came up. What a bullshit line.
“Now we wait,” she said. “We approach this as a unified front. Victor will be back to discuss his new plans shortly, I’m sure. Then we start to pick him apart. Find reasons why it would be better for everyone if we keep the project larger. Salvage what we can. This isn’t any of our faults. Whatever is happeni
ng, is happening on their end. We have to stick together and get as many concessions from them as possible.”
The others were nodding now, and she could see that they were all incensed, ready to use any and all tactics to their advantage.
She smiled.
Victor won’t know what hit him.
6
Victor didn’t want to see her again.
Now he stood outside her office, hands full of documents, and paused.
He’d wanted to argue with Aaric about it, to convince the fire dragon to deal with her instead, but he couldn’t. If he did that, his plan would fall apart. It was that plan which was keeping him going.
You can do it. Stay calm. This time, you’re the one in charge. You’re the one dictating the terms. They can’t make you do anything, because you hold the power. As long as she doesn’t gain any sway over you, you’re fine.
The time had come to face her again, and though he’d tried to be firm with himself over the intervening time, now he was outside her office, Victor found he was faltering. Apparently, a week hadn’t been long enough. He’d delayed as long as possible but couldn’t risk her contacting Aaric behind his back either. That would be bad for sure.
Just think of her reaction. Think of the dismay and revel in how distraught she’s going to feel.
He smiled, strengthened by those thoughts. Yes, this was going to be good. She would see the new plans and discover he was serious. That he wasn’t going to back down or be swayed.
The funds would leave the account Aaric had prepared for them, and then find their way into Victor’s. Both of them would suffer, and he would profit. His own accounts, so depleted and nearly empty, would swell. Once he’d taken the majority of the money, then he could finally leave the depressing town of Plymouth Falls behind.
He hadn’t shared any of that with Aaric of course. It had been an interesting dance after the fight, trying to talk about how Aaric had purposefully set him up to be embarrassed after realizing Cheryl was either an eerie lookalike of a woman from his past, or more likely her descendant.
That was where he was going after this meeting. To search through some records and see if he could figure out whether his suspicions were correct or not. Aaric had been suitably apologetic, but he’d sworn he didn’t know. That he did not actually know what Elizabeth had looked like.
Even just thinking the name sent a shiver down his spine. One day, perhaps after he got his revenge, he would be able to think about what happened without burning shame and embarrassment. But not yet.
No time better than the present to get started on fixing that.
Reinvigorated by his little pep talk, he strode forward and into the exact same meeting room. Everyone was seated around the table.
“Hello,” he said before Cheryl was even done rising.
“Victor.” Her voice wasn’t—quite—cold, but it was certainly far less welcoming and respectful than the last time.
She was going to put up a fight. He could tell. Let her, there’s nothing she can do to you.
“Cheryl,” he said, turning his attention to the rest of the team before she could reply. “Stephen, Liz, Tanya.” He bobbed his head ever so slightly in turn with each one.
Then he strode to the table and set down the items he was carrying, including a sheaf of new plans hastily drawn up by a harried architect from out of town. It had cost him a pretty penny to get them done urgently, but the money would be nothing compared to what he stood to gain.
“Here,” he said, tossing a stapled stack to each person at the table. “The new plans based on the financial commitment we are now able to put aside for the project. I know it’s not what you wanted, but times change. We have to adapt, but easy going. Take a look, and when you’re ready, here are the documents.”
He pushed another stack across the table at Cheryl. “They are certified by our lawyers. Send them to yours if you wish.”
But Cheryl wasn’t paying any attention. Her head was buried in the plans. Victor frowned. She was ignoring him. Completely. In fact, he realized as he looked around, they all were. None of them was giving him the time of day; instead, they were looking at his plans.
He returned his focus to Cheryl. He watched the horror slowly play over her face as she realized just how small he’d downsized everything.
Yes. Now you begin to see. Complain about it if you like. I won’t mind.
That’s what he told himself, letting similar thoughts run through his mind. The longer it went on, the more Victor found himself forced to come up with new versions of the same thing. The look and emotion on Cheryl’s face was leaving him unsettled. He didn’t understand.
This was to be his moment of victory. Of extreme satisfaction as he got his revenge on both people who had treated him badly. Ones who had made him a laughing stock among his peers. This was to be it!
So why did he feel like taking her into his arms and telling her it would be okay? That made no sense. He hated Cheryl. Hated her with every fiber of his being. He didn’t want to touch her. To hold her. He didn’t want to make her feel better. Victor knew this.
Didn’t he?
So why couldn’t he stop visions of that exact scenario from playing out in his mind? It would be so easy. One large step to his left, and then she would be in reach. All it would take was gentle pressure on her shoulders and she would collapse into him.
In front of all her team? I doubt it!
“Victor, is everything okay?”
He realized he was staring at her now, and she was looking back at him, having finally torn her attention away from the new plans.
“What?”
“You look pale,” Cheryl said. “Are you feeling okay? Can we get you anything?”
After all he’d done to her. Pulling the project out from under her feet, and yet she was still concerned with his wellbeing? Who was this woman? Elizabeth wouldn’t have cared. She would just be trying to milk it for all it was worth. Trying to claw back on the project, to take more of his money while he was confused.
But Cheryl was asking him if he was okay. If she could help him. Not take from him. There had to be another plan. Something she was hiding, that he wouldn’t see until it was too late, and he’d already accepted her help. Victor knew that. It was the way her bloodline worked. They were all thieves and con artists.
Well she isn’t going to pull one over on me this time!
“No, no I’m fine,” he said, standing up tall, reminding them of his power.
Reminding them, or reminding yourself?
“You weren’t lying, were you?” Cheryl said at last, looking just as pale as she’d said he was. “You really do intend to do the bare minimum. Why? What did we ever do to you? What came up? Maybe there’s a way Plymouth Falls could help in other ways.”
Victor shook his head. “No.” It was a struggle to even say that much.
Ignore her. This is your plan! This is what you want! Who cares how she feels? You don’t. It’s not like she cares what happened to you! Remember how Elizabeth acted!
He pulled up that memory now using the biting laughter of Cheryl’s doppelganger to feed his resolve.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cheryl said stiffly, then gestured at her team.
All at once, the others got up and filed out of the room.
“We’ll be in touch,” Cheryl said before he could say anything, and then she was gone too, leaving him alone.
Victor was stunned. He’d come in planning to command the room, to be the one making the decisions. And yet in one fell swoop, Cheryl had managed to pull it out from under him, leaving him standing around like an idiot.
What was going on here? She was supposed to be distraught. Begging him not to do what he was doing. Victor had expected her to throw herself at him, saying they would do anything to get him to redo the plans again, but larger.
There was only one thing he could infer from this reaction though. Cheryl and Plymouth Falls weren’t going down without a fight.
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“What are you up to?” he muttered to himself, resolutely ignoring the other feelings going on inside him.
The ones that told him he was making a mistake by hurting her. That he should go apologize and try to make things better. To get her to like him.
7
When he finally untangled his brain enough to leave the office—her office—he resolutely told himself he would take the most direct route back toward the elevator. He would not go searching after Cheryl, wanting to know what had just happened in the conference room.
So when his feet took him on a hard right turn down a hallway lined with closed doors, each with a different nametag on them, he didn’t immediately understand what he was doing.
No. The elevator’s the other way.
But he couldn’t stop it. His curiosity was insatiable. Cheryl had walked out of that meeting as if she held the high ground and he needed to know why that was. What plan did she have?
Victor moved silently, not sneaking, just without much noise. It wasn’t hard. Even with most of the doors closed, there was enough ambient sound to mask his light footsteps. For a big man, he could move very quietly if he chose. The ventilation system, the sound of voices behind closed doors and the wind outside the building easily covered up any trace of his approach toward the corner office.
The door labelled ‘C. Anders.”
He paused outside, opening his hearing, tuning in to his senses to try and hear what was going on inside the office. Was she in there with her team, gloating, perhaps? Or was she nervously answering to a superior? Victor smiled at the image of that last thought and leaned in close.
Silence.
That was all he could pick up. Complete and utter silence. If she was in there, Cheryl wasn’t doing anything more than breathing.
Was she not in her office?
He figured it was possible she was still with her team, of course. If she was anywhere else, it would be there. Looking around, he tried to figure out where that might be. Would they have moved to another conference room? That would make sense.
