by Abby Brooks
Anxiety spins through me, but I’m not worried. This is when I’m at my best, when the pressure is on, when the deck is stacked against me.
Some people would crumble, but not me.
Not Frank Wilde.
I’m the lump of coal that becomes a diamond. When the going gets tough, I get tougher. I sit patiently, waiting for Brian to continue.
“And so,” he says, leaning forward. “That brings me to my first question. Are you romantically involved with Sarah Carmichael?”
I think of Sarah sitting across from me at Guard and Grace, the look in her eyes as she studied my face.
Of the two of us at Derby’s, the rush of energy jolting through my body when we touched.
The way her body reacted when I pressed my hand to her lower back.
The heat between us.
The almost kiss.
The tension as we sat side by side in that elevator.
The fantasies of her body writhing beneath mine that kept me up last night.
I smile. “Let me assure you, I am not involved with Sarah Carmichael, romantically or otherwise.”
“Then pray tell. If you’re not involved with this woman, how did you feel so inclined to tell her about the open receptionist position?”
“Sarah was in a car accident this week. I was on my way to the gym and this guy T-boned her right in front of me. I was right there, so I went to offer assistance, to make sure she and the other driver were okay. Later that night, she was at Derby’s while we were there for the weekly office get together. I stopped by to make sure she was okay. She mentioned needing a job, so naturally, I thought of her when I heard Violet was leaving.”
Brian narrows his eyes as if he can see right through the holes in my story. I sculpt my face into the essence of professionalism.
A light smile.
Direct eye contact.
Straight jaw.
“I want to offer this young woman a job, but I need you to hear me. You have used up all of our patience when it comes to you and office drama surrounding your female coworkers. Do you understand what I’m saying here?” He leans forward, his gaze hard and direct. “Sarah Carmichael is officially off limits for you.”
Sarah
There’s something magical about beginnings. Something powerful about a fresh start. There’s hope and excitement, a little twist of nerves zinging through the system. Monday will be my first day as a receptionist at McDougan & Kent and you’d think I’d won the world, judging by my excitement levels.
I get the call on Friday and immediately call Frank, who congratulates the heck out of me, tells me he can’t wait for me to be the first person he sees when he gets to work, and then spends an hour flirting unmercifully. After our conversation, I research bus routes, specifically checking to see if they run from the sketchy, two-star extended stay hotel to my new place of employment.
Thankfully—or regretfully, I’m not sure—there is a route that’ll work.
Kind of.
I’m looking at an hour trip each way, which isn’t ideal, but will also be a whole lot cheaper than taking a cab. By the end of Friday night, I have plans to vacate my current residence and move into the scariest place I’ve ever lived. I spend Saturday and Sunday wandering through second-hand stores, looking for appropriate clothes to wear to work that won’t put too big a dent in my dwindling savings.
I text Colton to let him know about the job, spend the weekend exchanging sexy texts with Frank, and then, boom.
Monday morning.
Here I am, dressed to the nine’s in clothes someone else didn’t want anymore, sitting on a bus at six o’clock in the morning, the only other occupant a man who smells like old soup. But it doesn’t matter. Neither the early morning, nor the stench can drench my enthusiasm. I had a problem, I’ve taken steps to solve it, and damn if it doesn’t feel good. This might be the first time in a long time that I’m actually proud of myself.
The sunrise casts a pink hue across the sky, and I stare out the window at the line of mountains in the distance, their snowcapped peaks jutting across the horizon. It’s something I never thought I’d see, and while my motivations for taking this trip might be all kinds of wrong, I’m glad I did it.
I’m glad I was looking at my phone when I approached the intersection.
Glad I ran that red light.
Glad I wrecked my car and met Frank.
Glad I got this job.
I’m glad I’m here.
A smile sits lightly on my lips for the entire hour-long bus ride. I arrive with time to spare and am sitting in a chair in the very modern, yet also very comfortable reception area when an older woman with a hawk-like nose and fabulous shoes walks in.
“You must be Sarah,” she says as she adjusts her purse on her shoulder.
I stand and offer her my hand. “That’s me.”
“I’m Nora Martin. Let me put my stuff away, and I’ll show you around.” She points at a circular desk underneath the McDougan & Kent logo. “That’ll be your home base, if you want to get acquainted while you wait.”
Nora disappears down the hall and I step behind the desk. There’s nothing out of the ordinary—a computer, a phone, some filing cabinets, and a fax machine—but it sets little jolts of happiness off in my stomach all the same. It looks like every high-end reception area in any movie I’ve ever seen and as silly as it is, I’m thrilled to be the woman welcoming people into the office.
When Nora returns, she offers a friendly smile. “Ready to get the lay of the land?”
I nod. “You know it.”
Nora leads me around the corner and down the hall, through a hive of white desks and clean lines. “We pride ourselves on our ‘think-tank’ design around here.” She gestures to indicate the interconnected desks and tables. “No one works alone and we only hire the best and the brightest.”
I nod and make appropriate sounds of shock and awe. In all honesty, I truly am impressed. The office is open and efficient, with clean, modern lines that don’t come across as cold or sterile. Nora indicates a line of doors down one wall. “These offices are for our chief architects and engineers. Everyone should be wandering in shortly.” She turns to me with a warm smile. “I’ll introduce you to them when they do.”
I’ve never felt comfortable anywhere or with anyone. At home, I was the only girl, and a girly girl at that. While my brothers were eager to follow in our father’s footsteps, I didn’t want to get my hands dirty. My mother tried to channel my energy into cooking and cleaning, but ugh. Talk about boring. Through school, the simple lives of my classmates felt trite and tedious. The job at the firehouse was something to pay the bills and nothing more.
But here…
I’ve been in this building for all of twenty minutes, and only met one person who isn’t Frank and I already feel like I’ve found a place where I’m finally going to fit in. A sense of belonging warms me from the inside out. I study the place with a smile growing across my face.
This is good.
This is really, really good.
Nora shows me the break room and explains the coffeemaker and unspoken fridge rules. We emerge to find the office filling with people. They shuffle in clutching travel mugs, bags slung over their shoulders. A few lift a hand in greeting and I do my best to remember names as Nora flings them my way. Throughout it all, I keep my eye out for Frank, wondering if he sits at one of the open desks, or if he’s a big enough deal to warrant one of the offices.
It’s a silly question.
And I know the answer.
Frank is the kind of man who would earn himself a place among the best.
Nora leads me to a cluster of tables in the middle of the open space. “Sarah, I’d like you to meet Genevieve Logan, Paul Miller, and Bree Marshall,” she says, indicating each person in turn. “Guys, this is Sarah Carmichael, our new receptionist. Go easy on her, will ya? It’d be nice if this one stuck around for a while.” I repeat each name in my head as I offer my hand and smile.
Bree eyes me, her gaze cold and calculating, and I remember why her name sounds so familiar. She was at Derby’s, the night of the accident, staring at me like I was invading her territory when Frank came to talk to me. She forces a smile and I try not to recoil, then Nora whisks me away for another round of introductions before stopping in front of an office and knocking on the door.
A man looks up, another familiar face. His eyes land on mine. “Hey! You’re the woman from the elevator. Sarah, right?”
“That’s me. And you’re Frank’s better-looking friend. Jason?”
His face lights up in recognition of his own joke. “I knew I was going to like you.” He leans back in his chair and tucks his hands behind his head.
“Jason is a star around here,” Nora says. “Though I’m not convinced he didn’t charm his way into the title. I can’t remember the last time I ever saw him do anything that looked like work.”
I sense a presence behind me and turn to find Frank in a crisp white shirt with a dark silver tie, dark blue slacks, and a jacket that hugs his broad shoulders. His hair is swept back off his face, tousled, yet professional. Jason can think whatever he wants about his appearance, but Frank Wilde is in a league of his own. Looking at him, I forget to breathe.
Frank adjusts his glasses. “Good morning, Sarah.” His voice is subdued, but his eyes are vibrant, sparkling with excitement that almost matches my own.
Almost.
I dip my head in greeting. “Mr. Wilde.” I opt to use his last name. The last thing I need is for rumors to spread about me sleeping my way into this job.
Because, sure.
An entry-level receptionist position is the kind of job you have to sleep your way into.
Behind me, Jason laughs. “Isn’t she cute, pretending to be formal. No one calls him Mr. Wilde around here.”
Nora leads me back to reception, explains how to use the phones, and outlines my duties. Once she’s confident I have enough knowledge not to lose all of our clients on my first day, she leaves with the promise to return later in the afternoon to check on me. I answer a few calls, transfer them to the appropriate people, and am generally feeling ecstatic when I decide to head to the breakroom for some coffee. People smile and wave as I pass through the office. McDougan & Kent might as well be Disneyland, the people here are so happy, myself included.
Coffee in hand, I step into the narrow hallway and find none other than Bree Marshall. A smug look tightens her features, her arms crossed over her chest as she leans against the wall. I lift a hand in greeting and she scoffs.
“Save it.” She steps toward me, standing way too close as she levels a finger at my chest. “I have one thing to say to you and I need you to listen because I will not be repeating myself.”
I sit back on my heel and draw my eyebrows together. If she thinks she can intimidate me, she has another thing coming. I’m not the kind of woman who cares what people like her think. Before I decide if I want to say anything, Bree continues.
“I saw the way you looked at Frank that night at the bar and I saw the way you looked at him today. That man is nothing but trouble and you would be smart to stay away from him. He broke my heart. He broke Violet’s heart. He’s gonna break your heart.”
Nothing about the way she looks at me says she gives two shits about my heart.
There’s movement as someone steps into the hallway. Bree gives me a pointed look, spins on her heel, and stomps away, sneering at Jason as she passes him.
He stops in front of me. “So, I see you’ve met Bree…”
I blink, unsure of how to categorize what just happened. “I…”
“She’s crazy, Sarah.” Jason puts a hand on my shoulder. “Whatever she said to you, don’t let it bother you. The woman is two raisins short of a fruitcake.”
“Who? Bree?” I pivot and find Frank standing behind me. When our eyes meet, he drops me a wink, earning himself a strange look from Jason.
“Yeah,” I say. “She just…uh…introduced herself to me.”
Frank stares over my shoulder, down the hallway in the direction Bree disappeared. “Jason’s right. Bree is…well, there really isn’t a professional word to describe her, so I’m going to stop while I’m ahead.” He shares a look with Jason that I don’t understand.
“You know,” I say. “Since today is officially my first day of work and tomorrow is my one-week anniversary of arriving in Denver, you should take me out to celebrate.”
The whole weekend went by and I didn’t get to see Frank once. Sure, we chatted off and on as long as we were awake, but it wasn’t enough. Something powerful happens to me when I’m standing next to him, staring into those eyes, listening to his laugh. I’ve been craving him since I saw him on Friday.
Jason’s eyebrows skyrocket and he turns to Frank who crosses his arms and steps back. “Actually,” Frank says, his eyes focused somewhere beyond me. “Tonight is Impossible Design here at the office and tomorrow is our weekly get together at Derby’s. You should definitely come to one of those.” He smiles and brings his gaze to mine. “Or both of them.”
Hanging out at work events is not at all what I had in mind and disappointment hits me hard. “Oh, okay,” I manage and then force a smile because today is too good a day to let anything bring me down. “What’s Impossible Design?”
Frank moves past me, turning over his shoulder as he does. “Nora can fill you in. I have to scramble. You coming, Jason?”
I stare after Frank as he hurries down the hallway and disappears from view. A surge of emotion swirls up from the pit of my stomach and I swallow it down.
What the hell was that?
Did I read things wrong?
Is Frank not as interested in me as I am in him?
The rejection stings and I wrap my arms around my center and work my way back to my desk, where my prescription bottle sits in my purse, a beacon of hope, the promise of numbness if my anxiety gets out of control.
Frank
The look on Sarah’s face makes me feel like a class-A asshole. I had the whole weekend to tell her Brian Kent can’t know about anything going on between us. Time and time again, the opportunity would present itself and I’d chicken out.
Oh, I had excuses, of course.
I told myself I couldn’t tell her something like that over text. How stupid is that? So, we can’t flirt at work? Why did I think that wasn’t a text-able conversation?
And then, I told myself I couldn’t tell her over the phone at all because Sarah deserved a face to face so I could properly explain. Properly explain what?
I have no idea why I made such a big deal out of the situation. Surely, it’s no surprise that our mutual boss would prefer it if we didn’t flirt at work.
Jason stares at me in disbelief the moment I close the door to my office. “What the fuck was that?” he asks.
“What was what?”
“Don’t dick around with me. The chemistry between you and that new receptionist—” he waves a hand toward the door “—is off the charts. It was there on the elevator on Friday and today, it’s even worse.”
“So?”
“So what’s wrong with her?”
“Not one damn thing.”
Jason draws his brows together. “So…?”
“So, what?” I drop into my seat and let out a long breath.
“So, this hot woman is practically begging you to make a move and you use Impossible Design as an excuse? And then invite her to a work get-together at the bar? Dude.” Jason shakes his head. “That was cold.”
I frown, pressing my lips into a thin line. There’s a monster gnawing at my stomach and I have no idea what to do about it. I spin my chair in a slow circle. “You know why Vi quit, right?”
Jason chuckles. “The whole office knows why Vi quit.”
I complete the circle and lean forward, elbows on knees. “Exactly. The whole office including Brian Kent. He called me into his office on Friday. Basically told me that after talking to V
iolet, they’re putting just a little more stock into what Bree said I did to her.” Just saying that woman’s name sends a jolt of anger through me. When she made all those allegations, I chose to take the high road, to turn the other cheek. Now, after nearly a year of dealing with the fallout, I’m starting to wish I’d sued her for slander or something.
Jason’s eyebrows skyrocket. “Are you kidding me? Everyone knows Bree’s full of shit.”
“Not everyone. Not anymore.” I twist my mouth as I fill Jason in on my meeting with Brian and then sit back in my chair. “And so here I am. Sarah’s awesome. And completely off limits. And don’t even pretend like you didn’t know that. You’ve been giving me looks since she got here.”
“Yeah. I knew. I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything wrong with her before I made my move. Damn, dude. Sucks to be you.” He shoves a hand in his pocket, yanks open the door, then turns, humor twinkling in his eyes. “But my day just got a whole lot better. If you need me, I’ll be at reception.”
Sarah
I swallow down my hurt feelings with half a pill and busy myself with learning in the ins and outs of my job. When Nora stops by to check on me, I have a list of questions that she happily answers. I finish by asking her about Impossible Design, but skip the part where Frank told me I should come. I kind of just want to skip thinking about Frank altogether. For the moment anyway.
She manages to look both excited and annoyed at the same time. “It’s a monthly affair around here. Half contest, half pissing match. There’s a committee that comes up with a list of requirements for a building—the pickier and more difficult the better. The goal is to find the cheapest, most efficient, or most imaginative way to fulfill the requirements in a structure that would meet code and pass inspections. Hence the name, Impossible Design. The winning team gets an extra vacation day. Why?”
I fidget with the stuff on my desk while I search for an answer that doesn’t include Frank. “I heard people talking about it,” I finally say. “And I thought it might be a good way to get to know everyone.”
