Slipperless #2: Billionaire Romance
Page 4
“Tell me what you see, Fiona.”
She shrugged and looked past me. “I don’t know.”
“Sure you do.” I replied with a nod. Making a sweeping gesture with my arm, I continued. “Come over here and take a look around.”
As soon as I finished speaking, she shook her head. “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid of heights.”
I shook my head and exhaled. “Is there anything you aren’t afraid of, Fiona?”
As I spoke, Fiona continued to avoid my gaze. She dragged her fingertips down the length of her forearm until they came upon her charm bracelet. She spun the gemstones in succession for a few seconds before speaking once again.
“Is that why you asked me up here, Gabe? To see what I’m afraid of, or…?”
“No,” I replied, cutting her off. “Not at all. Now, quit deflecting my question. Look. Tell me what you see.”
Fiona grimaced at me for a moment or two. Fire-orange streaks from the setting sun reflected in her irises as she looked up at me.
“Go on,” I said, nodding with my chin. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. You mean the cars in the lot, or the park nearby, or the highway in the distance?”
I shook my head and waved her off. “If you want to make this a literal exercise, Fiona, sure. Those things are fine.”
“You’re confusing me. Tell me what you want me to see.”
“Listen to yourself, Fiona. How can I, or anyone else, tell you what to see in life?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” I said. “Tell you what. I’ll tell you what I see. That will help you understand the point I’m trying to make.”
“But I don’t look at the world the same way you do, Gabe. Things don’t work out for me the way they do for you. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Bullshit.”
“Why is that bullshit? It’s true.”
I paused for a moment or two. “Is it really true, Fiona?”
I think she could sense from the tone in my voice I had a challenge ready for her. Even so, she dipped her toe in the water, prodding me to prove my point.
“Yes, Gabe. It is true.”
“Okay, Fiona,” I began. Clapping my hands together in front of my body, I began to rub them back and forth in an easy rhythm. “Granted, you have a view of the world I don’t share. But just because that’s true, it doesn’t mean I’m not right.”
“What?” she replied. “You’re not making any sense.”
I shook my head. “It’s simple, Fiona. You don’t see the good, only the bad.”
“Well, that’s because…” she stammered, before she stopped herself mid-sentence.
I didn’t bother to probe her attempt at self-pity. Instead, I ignored it and motioned for her to approach. “Come here.”
“No,” she said, as she shook her head. “I already told you. I’m afraid of heights.”
I extended my hand towards her. “You’re safe with me. I promise.”
I kept my hand still, firm and extended towards her. She alternated glances between my fingers and my eyes for several seconds.
“It’s okay, Fiona. I would never hurt you.”
After another moment or two, Fiona shuffled a series of tiny steps and as she wrapped her fingers around mine, she slipped a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. But as I took hold of her, I accidentally grabbed onto of her charm bracelet and stretched it tight against her wrist.
“Gabe! My bracelet!” Fiona gasped. She balled her fingers into a fist and threatened to break her arm free of my grasp. “Please be careful.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I just don’t want anything to happen to it.”
Crisis averted, I guided her as close to the ledge as she would come. She finally stopped within a couple of feet, and as she did, I pressed my free hand into the small of her back, steadying her.
“You all right?”
The ashen look on Fiona’s face stood in direct contrast to the words that came from her lips. “Yes, I’m fine.”
I smiled a bit and nodded, before I turned my attention once more to what lay beyond the building’s ledge.
“See Fiona, the problem is when I asked you what you saw… you named things on the ground. You looked down, instead of up. That’s the biggest difference between you and me. You only see what’s right in front of you because you don’t have the confidence to look into the distance and not worry about stumbling. You know, fucking up.”
“Well, Gabe, we really don’t have the luxury to ‘fuck up’ in this business.”
“Yes, but we do,” I replied. “All the time. Science is all about trial and error.”
“Okay, well, be that as it may… I don’t have that luxury.”
Removing my hand from her back, I bent my arm at the elbow and wagged my index finger at her. “Hmm, see that’s where you’re wrong. In fact, you’re about to get your first shot at it. Fucking up on a grand scale that is.”
Fiona broke her gaze in the distance and snapped it in my direction. “What are you talking about?”
I felt a broad smile come to my face and stretch the edges of my mouth tight. Afterward, I spent the next few minutes explaining the discussion I’d had with Don. I laid out the plans I had in store, all leading up to the true reason I’d brought her up to the roof in the first place.
“You…” I began, as I looked down at her. “…are going to be giving the presentation, Fiona. To the investors.”
Fiona stared back at me in disbelief for several seconds before she started to shake her head back and forth. “I-I can’t Gabe, there’s no way. I…”
As she stammered and stuttered, Fiona began to lose her balance right in front of my eyes. Stepping off the ledge in the nick of time, I reached down and grabbed her in my arms just as it looked as if she might fall to the ground. I held her up as her body went limp in my grasp. Her eyes glazed over, her lids flickered and fluttered.
“Fiona…” I said, as I patted against her cheeks with light taps of my hand. “Hey, hey.”
Consciousness threatened to leave her for a few more seconds until she finally steadied herself. She shook her head back and forth, and I felt strength return to her torso as she stood upright once more. I helped her to the ground to rest for a moment and took a seat next to her. I wouldn’t say her reaction caught me completely off guard, but she would have to find a way to handle it. There was no alternative.
“Thank you, Gabe,” she began, as she looked up at me.
As she spoke, a warm breeze passed between us, rustling loose strands of her blonde hair. Several of them draped across her face and partially obscured her eyes from me.
“There must be someone else, Gabe, anyone,” she said, with a hard swallow. Fiona reached up with her small hand and brushed her hair aside. “Why can’t you do it?”
I leaned away from her and rested my hands on top of my bent knees. “Because you’re the best choice, Fiona. And because I said so.”
“Gabe,” she muttered. “You don’t understand. I literally cannot do it. If I do, I’ll have a panic attack, and you’ll have a repeat of this near-fainting incident on your hands. Is that what you want?”
“No. Of course it isn’t.”
“Well, that’s what you’re going to get. I can promise you.”
I shook my head. “That’s not true. Fiona, you just lack the skill to do it. That’s all. Speaking in front of people, it’s all about practice and being confident in your subject matter. Look, understand that ninety-nine percent of the people watching you speak are just as terrified as you are. Trust me when I tell you that they are pulling for you. No one wants to watch you go down in flames.”
Fiona sucked in her lower lip for a moment as she considered my advice. I studied her as she did her thing in silence… thinking, worrying, and fretting.
“I can’t, Gabe. Please I’ll… I-I’ll do anything else you ask of me, please. Please don’t make me do this. I’m scared to death right now.”
The mind is a powerful thing. And for the moment anyway, Fiona’s had convinced her that what I wanted her to do would lead to a horrific outcome. Even so, she was going to do this, whether she liked it or not.
“Fiona, do you remember what I asked you in my office the other day?”
Fiona’s broke her gaze on me. Her eyes held a faraway, distant look in them as she stared straight ahead. No doubt her mind conjured up a plethora of disasters as I tried to get her attention.
“Fiona?” I asked once again, raising my voice several decibels for emphasis. I snapped my fingers. “Hey, look at me.”
“What?” she said at last, as she turned her head in my direction. “What did you say?”
As she turned, I noticed she’d sucked her lower lip inward and chewed on it like a half-eaten ear of corn. Just then, her eyes drew up, meeting my own.
“Do you remember what I asked you? In my office? About you being willing to do anything for the company?”
Fiona thought for a moment or so, until at last she began to nod, as the recollection returned.
“Yes,” she said, with a slight hesitation.
“Good,” I said, as I drew close to her once again. “Because what I’m asking you to do… It isn’t for the company, Fiona, and it’s not for me. Believe it or not, it’s for you.”
She shook her head. “Well, I don’t want this. Not one bit.”
“You may not want it but you need it.”
She swallowed and looked away from me. I reached towards her face, sliding my fingers under her delicate chin bone. I curled my fingers beneath it, turning her face back towards mine as I issued my ultimatum.
“I’m done offering encouragement to you on this matter, Fiona. This is a good thing and it’s one hundred percent non-negotiable. I’ll make this real easy for you. If you don’t do it, I’ll fire you. Understand?”
FIONA
“Fiona…” my grandmother groaned through a mouth half-full of food. “This meat in this hamburger… It’s completely raw. It’s not cooked at all!”
I’d just sat down to my own meal as well and hadn’t even taken my first bite. As she spat the uncooked chunks back on to her plate, I glanced down at the bun pinched between my fingers. Peeling it back, I looked at the meat in disbelief. She was right. I hadn’t cooked them whatsoever. Clutching my plate, I rolled my eyes as I scrambled out of the recliner. Within a second or two, I reached for my grandmother’s plate.
“I’m so sorry, I… I’ll cook them right away.”
Holding the edge of the plate in the tips of her fingers, my grandmother leaned away from me. “No.”
I scoffed as she widened the distance between us. “No, what? Do you want to eat your burger raw?”
“No,” she began, as she placed it on the mattress, just beyond my reach. “I don’t want to eat it at all.”
I moaned. “I said I was sorry. Come on. It will only take a few minutes. Please don’t act like this.”
My grandmother crossed her arms at her chest and crushed her upper body into the pillows, scowling at me over the tops of her bifocals.
“Act like what, exactly? I wasn’t doing anything Fiona. You’re the one who’s trying to serve me raw meat.”
“I know, look, I know!” I shouted, nearing the tone of a shriek in my voice.
As I looked down at her, I noticed my grandmother recoil. A visible swallow made its way down her throat.
I exhaled and a moment or so later, plopped down on her mattress. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that. Please, I’ll cook your burger for you if you’ll just give it to me.”
“No,” she grumbled, without a moment’s hesitation. “I’m not hungry.”
“What? Why? Because I snapped at you?”
“No. Because there’s something going on with you, Fiona, and you’re keeping it from me. In fact, ever since you got that job, I feel that way almost daily.”
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“If it concerns you, it concerns me.”
“Yes but I mean, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She thinned her lips as I finished my thought. “Oh, so since there’s nothing I can do about it, I’m supposed to just sit here while you try and give me salmonella because you’re upset?”
I rolled my eyes at her. “No, of course not. That’s not what I meant.”
‘Well, you need to either tell me what’s wrong with you, or go order us a pizza. Do I make myself clear young lady?”
I looked at her for a moment or two before dropping my head a bit. I folded my hands in my lap. After a slow exhale, I spent the next several minutes explaining to her what Gabe wanted me to do. She listened in her usual way, with patience and attention, until I reached the end of my story.
“Is that it?” she asked at last.
“What do you mean? That’s a huge thing! I’m petrified. You of all people should know that.”
She nodded. “I do. But, that’s no excuse, Fiona.”
I groaned and shoved myself up from her mattress. Soon after, I began to pace back and forth while my grandmother continued to speak.
“Your grandfather was a wonderful salesman, Fiona. Over the years he sold a lot of things. He sold vacuums door-to-door, used cars, farm equipment, industrial printing supplies and a million other things. And do you know why he was so successful at it?”
I shrugged, as I continued to shuffle back and forth across the small confines of her bedroom. I really had no idea where she was going with any of this, so I ignored her. But she didn’t allow my lack of a reply to go on and it was only a matter of a few seconds before she snapped me out of my trance.
“Fiona. I asked you a question. Now, stop pacing and look at me.”
I spun in place and did as she asked. “About what?”
“About your grandfather. And about why he was such a successful salesman. Do you know the reason?”
“No,” I said, as I shook my head. “Why?”
By now, she’d begun to lower her hands. After folding them in her lap, she continued. “It’s because people related to him. They liked him. Trusted him. He believed in himself and what he sold.”
Somehow the popularity slash likeability gene must have skipped over me. Judging by my recent track record, not to mention the last fifteen years of my life, literally zero people felt that way about me. I shook my head in complete frustration. Spreading my arms wide, I dropped them until the palms of my hands slapped against the outside of my thighs.
“So,” I began, as I pursed my lips at her. “Exactly how does this information help me make a presentation in front of a roomful of billionaires?”
“They’re just people, Fiona. People are all the same.”
I didn’t bother responding. Frankly, I was about one second away from walking out of the room altogether. But before I did, she continued to try and make her point.
“You aren’t comfortable doing this because you don’t know how to do it. Are you worried in the lab? Uneasy?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“Why not?”
“Well because I know what I’m doing. That’s why.”
“Exactly.”
I shook my head at her sorry attempt to manipulate me. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work.”
“What am I trying to do?”
“You’re trying to trick me.”
“Fiona, why would I do that? I’m only trying to make a point.”
“Which is?”
“Which is all you have to do is put the same kind of focus you use in the lab on learning how to speak. Just find someone to teach you or try something like Toastmasters. I know you can do it.”
“This is a ridiculous conversation. I’m not doing it. I can’t.”
“I thought you said you didn’t have a choi
ce in the matter.”
I slumped my shoulders at her statement, and as I did, the reality of the situation struck me. Because whether I liked it or not, she had a point. I had to find a way to deal with this or I absolutely would fail. There was no question about it. And if I did, well, I had no idea what would become of us. So, whether it was a coach or something like Toastmasters, I would get it handled. She was right. I had no choice.
Just then, my grandmother spoke once more, bringing me back to the conversation and out of my contemplative state.
“You can do this, Fiona. I believe in you and…”
All of sudden, literally in mid-sentence, she winced and folded over at the waist. As she did, she let loose with a violent series of coughs and gags. I felt heat flush through my body as I rushed towards her side.
“Grandmother? What is it? What’s wrong?”
But, no words passed from her lips. Instead, she continued to writhe in pain, hacking and coughing as the seconds ticked by in slow agony.
“Grandmother! Grandmother!”
Frantic, I glanced around her nightstand for something I could give her to try and ease the coughing fit. Not seeing anything, I raced out of the room and returned thirty seconds later with an ice cold glass of water. My hand trembled as I offered it to her.
“Here…” I gasped through a parched, dry mouth. “Try and drink this.”
The episode sapped so much strength from her that I had to keep my hands on the glass as she tried to sip from it. Though difficult at first, with time she managed to get down a few gulps, until at last the fit subsided. With a shallow exhale, she collapsed into her pillows, exhausted.
“Grandmother,” I began, as I reached down and stroked her hair. “Are you okay?”
With her eyes closed, she remained silent for a few moments. Her breath rose and fell in a painful rhythm, if the constant wince on her face was any indication. My vision went hazy, glassy, as I looked down at her. It was then I felt warm streaks slide down my cheeks. With my free hand, I smeared them away, as I tried to keep my focus on her.
“Grandmother,” I whispered.
“It’s nothing, dear. I’m… I’m fine.”