Daddy's Virgin

by Claire Adams

"Really, who?" I asked.

  "My husband," Ivy said.

  I sat up and then dropped my forehead to my desk. "Great. And now I might end up working with Rainer again. Are you sure you didn't fund the gardens just to play cupid?"

  "Oh, wait. What if Rainer funded the campaign in order to keep working with you?!"

  "Ivy, you're not helping," I said.

  "Well, track the money and get back to me. Good luck, lady!" Ivy hung up the phone and left me speechless.

  I went to work right away, trying to uncover who the anonymous donor could have been. My contacts in every Hyperion office tried to help out, but there was no tracing the source. Most people never imagined not-knowing would be a problem. They kept highlighting how great it was that my work with Rainer could continue.

  I gave up after an hour and let my forehead sink back down to the cold surface of my desk.

  "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your, ah, nap?" Amy bounced from one foot to the other in the doorway. "It's just that I read the email about the big donation and I wanted to see if we should celebrate."

  "Thanks, but not now," I told my assistant.

  She raised an imaginary glass anyway. "Well, here's to a great start. First the East Bay and then the whole world!"

  I didn't want to admit it but my hapless, temporary assistant had given me a great idea. Amy swooped back out the doorway with a dramatic bow and went back to her internet surfing and gossip. I sat up and poised my fingers above my keyboard. I needed to pitch a new idea to Stan by the end of the day, and I'd been up all night trying to think of something I wanted to do that had the same positive impact as the GroGreen application ended up having.

  Exactly what would I need to stretch the funding and expand our community gardens idea into a national campaign?

  Brainstorming, problem-solving, and filling in the details gave me a few blissful hours of productive work. It felt like a tonic. When I was busy at work, my disastrous personal life could not intrude. Yes, I thought of Rainer every minute or so because he had been so integral to the original campaign, but I was able to stay focused on the work side of it through sheer will.

  Once I had a working proposal, a list of critical questions, and detailed action steps, I sat back and let my mind drift for one moment. To the exact moment that Rainer lost control. We were at the foot of the queen-sized bed in the private cabin of Berger's luxury yacht, but it felt like a tsunami had hit me head-on. Rainer's ragged moan had reverberated through my body as well fell together onto the silken bedspread.

  It was so vivid in my memory that, for a moment, I didn't understand how my pregnant sister could be standing in the doorway. I blinked hard and came back to reality in my office.

  "Daydreaming?" Barbie backed out and checked my name on the door. "No. I have the right office, but what have you done with my sister?"

  "I'm fine," I said.

  "That's what everyone who isn't fine says."

  "How are you?" I asked Barbie.

  She waddled over to one of the chairs that faced my desk and sank down. "Fine," she said, slightly out of breath.

  I jumped up. "I'm sorry, Barbie. I can't believe you came all this way. And our office building must feel like one giant obstacle course. How are you doing, really?"

  My sister slapped my hand away. "The baby's fine; I'm fine. Just uncomfortable."

  I moved the other chair and then lifted her feet onto it. "I don't think you should be here. Big building, long elevator rides, all the crowds and the work and the stress. Are you sure you aren't overwhelmed?"

  Barbie glared up at me. "Yes, yes, you work in a big, busy, impressive office building. I'm just so common that I can't even navigate the elevators."

  "That's not what I meant," I told my sister.

  "You know I'm impressed with you, but the rest of this? Who cares? I just came to get the scoop on Seth," Barbie said.

  I groaned and retreated back around my desk to slump into my chair. "You could have just called."

  "We both know you would have hung up on me," Barbie said. She gave me her best impish smile. "Now, give me all the juicy details."

  I had never been so glad to see James Berger burst through my office door. "Oh, Berger. This is my sister, Barbie."

  Berger's eyes grew big. "Sister? You have a sister?" Then he spotted Barbie's round stomach. "And you're going to be an aunt? Whoa, have you let HR know you might need time off?"

  Barbie snorted. "It's not like she's going to push this thing out and need recovery time."

  "True, true." Berger strode over and gave my sister his most gracious handshake. "You know, I didn't think the whole 'glowing' thing was real, but you look wonderful."

  His gold Rolex flashed as he gently laid my sister's hand back down. Barbie looked at me and rolled her eyes. "So, these are the kind of big shots you're up against?"

  Berger adjusted his suit coat with a not-so-modest shrug. "I am one of the top junior executives."

  Barbie laughed. "And my sister is going to be your boss someday soon. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have family business to discuss."

  Berger could not believe he was being dismissed. He opened his mouth but realized the reason he'd stopped in, most likely to brag about his yacht party, wouldn't hold up against Barbie's edict. He slunk out the door, and Barbie rolled her eyes.

  "You know, he makes your annual salary in two months," I told my sister.

  She yawned and scratched her extended stomach. "Impressive. You know what's better? Your darling brother-in-law is mastering the art of the lasagna so we won't starve through the sleepless newborn phase."

  I laughed. "Now, that is impressive."

  It was impossible not to feel a twist of jealousy when I looked at my older sister. She was so at ease, despite how far along she was, and so content with her life. Nothing could shake her belief that she had the best life could offer: a comfortable home, a loving partner, and an expanding family. I had to admit that I was jealous. Where I was always looking for the next thing, Barbie was simply enjoying where she was.

  "Do you think I'll ever be as content as you?" I asked my sister.

  Barbie patted her baby bump. "Not if you keep blowing off dates. Now, are you going to tell me what happened or not?"

  I stood up. "You know, I'm actually really busy. I have to make a big pitch to Stan today."

  Barbie heaved herself out of the chair. "All right, I get it. You'll tell me over dinner this week. Remember, lasagna."

  I walked her out of my office and to the elevator. While we waited, my big sister was nice enough to talk about innocuous things like what was blooming in her garden, but it all just made me think of Rainer anyway. As the elevator doors slid open, I felt my equilibrium spin.

  Rainer stepped out and held the doors open for my sister. "Beautiful as always, Ms. Barbie," he said.

  My sister patted his cheek. "Handsome and charming. No wonder I keep seeing your picture everywhere."

  Barbie was about to wave goodbye to me, but I panicked and jumped onto the elevator with her. Rainer raised an eyebrow but the doors closed. We rode down two floors alone before my sister cleared her throat.

  "I'm going to guess that he was part of the reason your date with Seth fizzled," Barbie said.

  "Lasagna. Can't wait," I said.

  Barbie laughed and hugged me as the elevator opened on the lobby floor. "Love you, Tasha," she said.

  I waved goodbye as she headed across the lobby and then pressed the top floor button. I paced the small square of the elevator and tried to come up with a plan. Then I stopped. I was being ridiculous. I was going to have to face Rainer sooner rather than later. So, I punched the button for our floor and tried not to panic.

  When the doors slid open to reveal a knot of junior executives, my throat closed up in a panic. I nodded to them and stepped out of the elevator.

  "Hey, let me know what you're working on," one said. "I'm available if you need any help."

  His buddies shoved him onto the
elevator, telling him he was lazy and needed to find his own successful project. I smiled back at them as I set off down the hall. Luckily, none of them noticed I was heading towards Rainer's office instead of my own.

  "Tasha, there you are," Stan said. He blocked my way to Rainer's side of the floor and steered me back towards the elevators. "We've got a meeting. Let's go to my office, shall we?"

  "I'll be right there. I just need to, ah, grab my things," I said. I saw Rainer stepping out of his office and felt like I needed to face him now or never. "Go ahead without me."

  "No, thanks." Stan pulled me into the executive elevator that only opened on our floor and the penthouse. "Did I ever tell you about the time I got stuck in an elevator? I was on the way to meet my wife, my first wife, and I got stuck for five hours. By the time I got out, she'd met someone in the lobby, gotten a better offer, and had gone off to dinner. That dinner turned into a new career for her and a nasty divorce for me."

  "And you didn't just press the 'stop' button?" I asked.

  Stan chuckled. "In hindsight, it was lucky that elevator got stuck. I wasn't strong enough to do it myself. Sometimes we know when a relationship just isn't right, but we don't have the fortitude to walk away."

  I crossed my arms. "Is this work advice?"

  "Let's just call it good advice," Stan said.

  The elevator doors slid open and the elegance of the executive floor struck me as it always did. The walls were a dark marble with copper seams. Wooden pillars stood sentinel at the corners. My heels sunk into the plush Berber carpet as I followed Stan to his office. He pushed open the double doors and stepped into the sun-filled room.

  I paused while Stan rounded his desk and sat down. It was a bad habit, one my mentor encouraged, but every time I stepped into his office, I thought about what it would be like when it was mine. More chairs around the square coffee table for longer meetings. A larger table, maybe even round, to replace Stan's glass conference table. Brighter curtains, light touches of color, and a trio of artwork. My mind spun out as I realized I could finally afford real, collectible art.

  "Before you pick out throw pillows, there's something I have to tell you." Stan rocked back and forth in his leather desk chair.

  "The way you said that makes me think I want to be standing for this news," I said.

  Stan nodded. "You've never struck me as a fainter, so here goes: we're selling Hyperion."

  Instead of swaying against the impact of that overwhelming news, I broke into a furious pace. I rounded the glass conference table and glanced at Stan. He watched me approach, hands steepled but reclining at ease in his leather chair.

  "The entire company?" I asked.

  "Sold," Stan said.

  "No merger? No rebranding? Just sold?" I took another lap around the conference table, but the nervous energy was overtaking me.

  "Now settle down, Tasha. I changed my mind; you need to sit down," Stan said. He sat up and waved me into one of the chairs that faced his desk. "This isn't necessarily bad news."

  A bubble of laughter slipped past my shock. "Not bad news? How is watching this company get dismantled not bad news?" I asked.

  Stan sighed. "Most people would think about the money we'll make from the deal. All shareholders are going to get a nice dividend."

  I scowled at my boss and mentor. "Most people don't love their jobs."

  "No, Tasha. You're wrong. You don't love this job; you love working." Stan leaned forward. "And I know for a fact you will not be out of work. Unless you want to take some time. Might be nice to be at home and enjoy your new niece or nephew when they arrive."

  I gripped the armrest of my chair and let that foreign idea sweep over me. My condo was in desperate need of a deep cleaning and reorganizing. It could be a chance to dump everything and start fresh. I could completely redo the landscaping and maybe even try my hand at a container herb garden. And, Stan was right, I could be more help to my sister and her new baby.

  It all sounded so domestic and peaceful.

  I shook my head. "I love working."

  Stan leaned back in his leather chair and laughed. "I could have put money down that you would answer that way. That's why I told my new business partners that I wanted a place for you in the new venture. Lucky for both of us, your reputation precedes you, and they are very excited to discuss the possibilities."

  I held up both hands. "Who are they? What new venture? And what possibilities?"

  Stan stood up. "I'm talking about a new integrated communications business where you can shape your own position. Pick your title, name your salary, and get to work."

  I stood up and skirted around my chair to hang on to the back as I faced Stan. "Integrated communications?"

  "I know, I know, you'll want to see all the details and crunch all the numbers." He tossed a heavy packet onto my chair. "I'm only slightly insulted that you don't trust me."

  "It's not that." I felt the tension release my shoulders. "I do trust you. This is just a lot to take in. I came in here with a great idea for the community gardens, and now this."

  Stan frowned. "You're still on the GroGreen campaign? Tasha, that was just public relations, and now it's over. The application is selling well, and we are on to bigger and better things."

  I let go of the chair and put my hands on my hips. "Why are you so adamant that I leave the GroGreen project behind? Normally, we review projects for months. Is there something else you want to say?"

  "I just want you to stay focused on what's best for your career," Stan said.

  "And what if I've decided I liked the hands-on, community outreach aspects of the campaign? What if the new position I want is on the front lines?" I asked.

  Stan sat back down in his chair and gave me a stern look. "Then I would have to point out how those positions need to deal with social media and public relations much more than your current job. You'd have to get used to the spotlight, cultivate it, seek it out."

  I sat down before Stan could see me cringing. "Seek it out?"

  "There's no product, no sale if there isn't buzz. And, yes, marketing and advertising take care of a lot. But, with big companies like Hyperion, we need to create an image. Our executives are the face of the company to investors and media alike nowadays. Though, if you like the hands-on stuff, you won't mind hosting the charity events instead of just sending them money." Stan drummed his fingers on his desk while he watched me take that all in.

  "Isn't that why we hire people like Rainer Maxwell?" I asked.

  Stan smacked his hands down on the desk. "Exactly. But he won't be around to take the heat of the spotlight for you anymore. You'll have to do it yourself."

  I mumbled. "Not exactly my strength."

  "I would have thought this would be a relief for you, Tasha. Why stress about that when you can create a management position for yourself? Play to your strengths and create your own position."

  "You sold the company. What's going to happen to everyone else? All the other junior executives? My teams?" I raised a shaky hand to my forehead. "All my team members are going to be out of jobs?"

  Stan came around and leaned against his desk in front of me. "You can bring your entire team with. There's still time to hash out all those details. And don't you think you've made the other junior executives enough of a nest egg that they can try to fly the nest on their own?"

  "What if I wanted some of them to come with us?" I asked.

  Stan crossed his arms over his chest. "Some or one in particular?"

  I met his glare. "You said yourself that Rainer has a talent for dealing with the spotlight."

  "You don't need him, Tasha."

  "He's amazing on the front lines, cultivating the spotlight, all those things you said. Why wouldn't you want him to join your new venture?" I asked.

  Stan threw his arms up in the air and stomped back around his desk. He scratched his stubbled chin and glared down at me. "You know this isn't a productive conversation. Where has your focus gone?"

&nb
sp; I stood up. "Focus? You're the one that knocked me sideways with this news."

  "And your first concern was Rainer," Stan muttered.

  I popped my mouth shut and sat down. Stan was my mentor because not only did he have the near-legendary business acumen, but he could read people. Normally, it was a skill that cleared away all the obstacles and made for easy negotiations. Now, it just felt as if he could see through me, things that I didn't even want to admit to myself.

  "How can you not realize that Rainer Maxwell will be fine? He'll always be fine. His family is obsessed with money and legacy, so while they push him, they won't let him fail. Besides, he has the crown jewel of society just waiting to marry him. He'll be a made man then and can do whatever he wants in any corner of the world." Stan sat down across from me. "I pay attention to the gossip, and Ellison Ramsey will give him everything he and his family has always wanted."

  The news of the company sale started to set in. That was the only reason my hands wouldn't stop trembling and chest hurt. My vision blurred and I told myself I just needed a minute to grasp the career change ahead of me. I was fine. Stan had already offered me a new job leagues better than being a junior executive. I had no reason to be upset.

  "Shouldn't we celebrate with a drink?" I asked.

  Stan flinched at the wobbly tone of my voice and jumped up. He poured us two short whiskeys and handed me one. "Now, is there something you want to tell me?" he asked.

  "I want more vacation time?"

  "Tasha, you don't have to pretend with me. What kind of mentor would forget to help his protege deal with the other aspects of life? There's more going on here than business."

  His phone buzzed, and I took the opportunity to retreat to the corner window. Stan was right. There was more going on than business, but it was all tangled up together in my head. The fact that Hyperion had been sold meant that I would not see many of my colleagues except in social settings. That meant I would always see Rainer with Ellison.

  I would never get to argue over the best dim sum with him, or laugh over our competitors’ unfortunate spelling mistakes. The only moments I would have with Rainer now would be with his lovely fiancée on his arm, and that thought hurt.