HiJack (The Vivienne Series Book 2)

by Karen Gordon

  “Ok.” She says it, but I know she doesn’t give up this easily. There’s a maybe, when you get over Danny in her one-word response.

  “Truth…are you glad he’s gone?” It’s a hard question to ask, but her over-enthusiasm about Jack is kind of telling.

  She chooses her words carefully. “I’m…ready for you to be happy.”

  “And Danny didn’t make me happy.” It’s a statement, not a question. We both know it’s true.

  “The idea of Danny made you very happy, and don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, but…you really weren’t a good match.”

  “You tried to tell me a million times, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe a few hundred…through the years, but I didn’t want to kill your dream.”

  I’m silent, fighting tears, remembering all the plans and dreams I had for me and Danny. I was so damn sure he was the one. “I know, logically, that I have to move on but…right now there’s just a huge blank space where all my hopes and dreams for my future used to be.”

  “Oh, V.” There’s pain in her voice. She’s hurting for me and I appreciate it. “I know you can’t see it right now, but there will be someone for you, I know it.”

  I change the subject because I’m not up for a pep talk right now. “I’m going to be making almost double what I was before.”

  “Daaaaamn, seriously? Double? We need to figure out something for you to buy for yourself with your first big paycheck.”

  “I know! Ooooo, how about a trip somewhere? You and me?” My mood is lifting.

  “Hell, yes, shopping…in New York City.”

  “Or Paris. Girl, I could get us to Paris now.” I do a quick mental calculation and yes, between my inheritance and my pay raise I really could go to Paris with Dom.

  “Can you imagine us in Paris?” We school-girl giggle like we always have when we’re scheming.

  “Shopping, sitting in a café, eating, more eating, sitting in another café eating more croissants and catcalling hot, French men.”

  “Pardon, monsieur, is that a baguette in your pocket, or are you just happy to see us?” I laugh so hard at her stupid cliché that I’m crying. This is what I needed, an age-regression moment with Dom.

  “We are so going to do this.” I’m mentally booking the tickets now.

  “Hell yes, we are.” I hear a car door slam and realize she has driven all the way home from work while we were talking. “I’m home, but call me tomorrow night and give me more deets on your job.” I hear the storm door squeaking as she opens it. Her voice drops to a whisper because her mom and brother and sister are sleeping. “And don’t stress about it. It’s all going to work out, dudes, your job, Paris. It’s all good, V. You got me and we’re gonna make it work.”

  I smile and let myself relax. She’s right, I do have her. Together we are a force of nature. Somehow, this will all work out.

  Chapter Three

  I officially move upstairs to the executive suites a few days before Jack is due to start. I want to have my office in order and be completely acquainted with his schedule, office, duties, objectives, goals, etc. We are both going to be starting from scratch and I want everything to go smoothly.

  The first obvious thing is that my new door is completely unnecessary. There are only six people with offices on this floor: myself and Jack; Carolyn and Joel; and the CFO, Arthur and his secretary, Janet. We were all spaced so far apart with executive conference rooms, kitchens and restrooms between that I could go all day and never see another soul, at least while Jack isn’t there.

  I luxuriate in the uninterrupted quiet for the first three days and I’m prepared to meet Jack on day four. Only he doesn’t show up, or call, or text. I check with Carolyn to make sure I have the correct starting day for him.

  “Joel said today,” she notes, looking at her calendar. “I’d check with him but he and Ava are on vacation. I don’t want to disturb them.”

  “Do you have a number for Jack?” It didn’t seem odd that I don’t, until now.

  She pulls up a number on her screen and writes it on a sticky note for me. “This should be correct. He’s had several number changes—new phones,” she explains as she hands me the note. “If that’s not it, I can try calling Joel’s house and see if the housekeeper has another one.”

  I thank her and go to call Jack, then realize I have no idea what to say to him. This is your secretary calling, where are you? We haven’t even been introduced. Add in the fact that talking to him without drooling on myself is going to be a problem. I readjust the photo-shopped Danny-and-me pic I’ve placed prominently on one corner of my desk. Even if it isn’t real, I love it. “I’m counting on you to keep me from making an idiot of myself.” Yeah, I’ve started talking to Danny’s picture too.

  I decide not to call—too awkward. Instead I kill time by memorizing the names and faces of board members we will be working with as well as everyone in the marketing department who would be under Jack. Finally, I spend a few hours looking at the online manual for the new jet we will be launching next year, the J88. Four days later…still no Jack. I’m so bored and tired of waiting for him to show up that I call Dom and spend a few hours going over her Pinterest boards for her upcoming wedding.

  I’m mid, “go with the full-length veil if you want it,” when I notice someone standing at the door to my office. I try to cover. “Sure, we can add a veil net to the cargo area.” Veil net? There’s probably no such thing, but I’m not about to cop to chatting with friends while at work. I smile at the woman, acknowledging that I see her and say, “I’ll get back to you on that tomorrow,” to Dom.

  Dom’s used to me quickly changing our conversations when I’m at work. “Call me later.”

  “Great, tomorrow then.” I hang up and get up to greet my first visitor. I can’t shake her hand because she’s holding a large plastic tote. “Hi, Vivienne Ramsey.” I reach out and relieve her of the tote.

  She gladly hands it over; it’s kind of heavy. “Donna Lamont. I’m the house manager.” My lost look says that I don’t know whose house manager so she adds, “Joel and Ava’s manager.” She points at the box now sitting on the floor. “Jack asked me to pick that up from his apartment and deliver it here. I guess it’s stuff for his office.”

  Ah, my first contact with the mysterious Jack. I need to pump her for some info—delicately. “Great.” I peek inside the box and sure enough it’s some trophies and photos. “Is he… in town?” I try to make my question sound casual.

  Her knowing smile is a dead giveaway. “He hasn’t called you?”

  I shake my head.

  “He’s in Savannah.” Then she stops to think, “Or maybe at his place on the island, but yeah, he’s around. I would image he will make an appearance before his dad does.”

  Ooooohh, so much insight in that sentence. Jack will be here when Joel is here. While the cats away… I smile a thank you to her. “Great. Well I’ll place these in his office so it will be ready for him on…” I wait and hope she will fill in the blank.

  She does. “Tuesday. And, his dad will be in on Wednesday.”

  I love this woman. I need this woman. “Donna, could I get your number? In case…” I’m not sure how to say “I can’t find Jack.”

  “Sure.” I hand her a pen and notepad. “You can call me if you have any questions. Don’t know if I can help, but…” She writes down her number and hands it to me. “I’ll try. I’ve known Jack since he was in high school. He’s…” She searches for words, words I’m dying to know, then she changes her mind. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be fantastic at this job.” It definitely sounded like she was trying to convince herself and possibly me. Damn. I want to pump her for more info, but it’s clear she would consider it gossip.

  I thank her again before she leaves.

  I study each picture as I place them in his office. Yep, smokin’ hot and rich. He’s doing typical rich dude things in the photos: posing with a girl on a yacht; with friends skiing (probably in Europe); and
again with friends at his recent graduation. He has a laid-back stance to him that says he doesn’t need to attack life or grab for anything. It all comes to him. No doubt, delivered by hired help.

  ✈✈✈

  Tuesday comes and goes with still no sign of Jack. I’ve done everything short of shampoo the carpeting myself to prep for him to arrive. At five o’clock I pack up my stuff and I’m putting on my coat when I hear voices in the hallway—male voices, several of them. It’s the most noise I’ve heard on the floor in the past ten days.

  I look up to see a guy in my doorway, but it’s not Jack. He’s about Jack’s age, damn good looking and possibly a little drunk. He’s got a loopy smile and I think I detect the smell of whiskey--albeit good whiskey, I’m sure.

  “Hey.” Yeah, he’s drunk. Just talking threw him off balance a little.

  I give him a cautious, “hey,” back.

  “You Vicky?”

  I shake my head. “No, Vivienne.” Then I add, “Ramsey,” in an attempt to keep things formal. “Are you looking for Jack?”

  He chuckles. “Na, I know where he is.”

  Great, why don’t you tell me. “Ok, can I help you with something?”

  He just stands in my doorway smiling, “Na.”

  I have my coat on now and I contemplate pushing past him to leave, but he turns when more male voices approach. “Jack, I found your secretary.” The skeezy way he says secretary makes me feel like I’ve fallen into an episode of Mad Men.

  I hear from the hallway, “Leave her alone, Jace.” Then I finally meet Jack Rockhurst, or at least see him. He leans his head in the doorway. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  One, wow…if it’s possible, he’s even better looking in person. And two, while Jace smelled a little like alcohol, Jack must have bathed in it. Jeezus. A third guy leans his head into my office, not trying to hide the fact he is checking me out. I feel like meat on a hook and wonder if they would like me to spin slowly so they can see me from all angles.

  I approach Jack with my hand extended. “You must be Jack.” My four-inch heels put me not only at his height, but also taller than his two friends. I pull myself up to my full height and glance briefly down at them.

  Jack takes my hand and shakes it while giving me a sexually-charged, lop-sided grin. It doesn’t feel lecherous, but I’m sure this isn’t the way he greets the members of the board.

  He’s probably flirting with me, impressing his friends, but I can’t let him throw me off. This first contact is crucial. I need to set a professional tone. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Vivienne Ramsey.” My voice is firm, just short of prison matron, and I give him my best business-like smile.

  I grab my purse and tote from my desk, hoping to make a stealth exit while keeping up the small talk. “I’ve set up your office and I left prep notes on your desk for tomorrow morning’s department meeting.” So feel free to go find them and take your wasted frat cronies with you.

  The blank look on his face tells me he had no idea he would be leading a meeting tomorrow morning. Holy shit, we are in trouble.

  “Would you like me to go over them with you?” Although I doubt he will remember much of anything I say in the morning.

  “Yeah, sure.” If he’s worried, he isn’t showing it.

  I drop my purse and tote back on my desk and lead the group to Jack’s office. I can actually feel their stares as I walk and I wonder if that’s why I’m leading or it’s because I’m the only one who knows where his office is. They all file in behind me as I turn on the lights. “I pulled the latest R&D and manufacturing reports on the J88, in case you hadn’t seen them yet.”

  I look up to see him smiling at me and nodding. He’s never seen either of these reports—probably didn’t know they existed. I can’t confront him, especially with his friends here, so I keep up the ruse that he understands. “I figured you would also want the media stats, so I put those in there too.”

  “Yeah, of course.” He reaches for the file and flips through it briefly, not really reading anything. “Perfect.” He flashes me a smile that has to be his get-out-of-jail-free card with women. Inside I sigh with desire, outwardly I sigh in frustration. Yes, I am going to have to help Jack, a lot. The meaning behind Joel’s words are very clear to me now.

  Jace is milling around the office, opening things and the other guy is slouched on the couch looking like he might pass out. It looks like a good time for me to exit.

  “Well, I’ll let you go over the reports.” I say while fighting an eye roll. “If you have any questions, we can go over them before the meeting.” I head toward the door but not too fast. I don’t want them to think they got to me.

  “Great. See you at nine.”

  I’m almost out the door, but turn back, “You mean eight? The meeting is at eight.”

  He’s flipping through the folder now and won’t look at me. “Yeah, eight. I meant eight.”

  Chapter Four

  How do I describe Jack’s first marketing meeting as head of the department? Strange? Short? Useless? Scary?

  I sit away from the main table in a corner and take notes. I titled my sheet of paper: Things I need to explain to Jack. Twenty minutes into the meeting I’m on page three and writing frantically.

  The marketing managers dance carefully-worded circles around Jack, trying not to point out the elephant in the room, that he knows nothing--not one blessed thing-- about any of the marketing plans or objectives of the company. It’s clear he did not read the stuff I pulled for him or he read it and didn’t understand it or remember it.

  At first I want to laugh. Jack trying to cover up his lack of knowledge is hysterically funny. Mr. Charm no doubt side-stepped and dodged his way through college and is counting on his winning combination of bullshit and a perfect smile to get him through this one too. As the frustration level in the room increases though, it’s less funny for all of us. The marketing team is worried about meeting department goals. Jack might have started worrying that this would get back to his dad--although he’s hiding it well. And I’m really getting worried that I will be fired for how ill-prepared Jack is for this meeting.

  The painful event ends abruptly at nine fifteen when Jack looks at his watch and announces that he has another meeting to attend and that he will have to leave. It’s difficult, but each team member holds a straight face as they say they understand and they’ll be sending him information that he’s never asked for. Before exiting, Jack turns to the group and acknowledges me for the first time.

  “Great. Well, send your reports to Viv and she will forward them to me.” And he shuts the door.

  The silence is raw. Six stunned people are trying to process what just happened and what is safe to say about it without risking their jobs. Vivienne to the rescue.

  Since I haven’t really been introduced I start with my name, my real name, or at least the one I approve for work.

  “Alright, I guess we should start with introductions. I am Vivienne.” I stress the full pronunciation. “I’m Jack’s assistant.” I move from my corner to stand at the head of the table next to the chair Jack vacated. The managers go around the room and introduce themselves and tell me a little about what they are currently working on. It’s all completely unnecessary because I’ve already studied all this info, but it buys time for me to figure out how to salvage this meeting and my career.

  When they finish I give them my best, confident smile. “I will be your point person. If you need to funnel information to Jack for approval just shoot it to me and I will make sure he sees it.” And hopefully does something with it. “Although Jack and I are new to our positions, I have been with Jetstream for almost seven years in the I-sales department, so I have a lot of background knowledge. I’ve read over our current marketing objectives, but I’d appreciate any additional insight you could offer.”

  There’s an audible sigh followed by the mood lightening.

  “I will work with Jack,” or alone, “to develop the agenda for our next
meeting but in the meantime please feel free to stop by my office or call or text or email me. I’m really good at reply times.”

  As they pack up and file out each stops by to greet me, shake my hand and thank me. After the last person leaves, I casually shut the door then collapse into what had been Jack’s chair. I let my head fall onto the conference table with a thud.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into? After several minutes and a lot of very deep breaths I sit up. I survey the room as I try to formulate a plan. And it dawns on me, where I’m sitting. I’m in the head seat, the one reserved for the person in charge.

  I look up at the ceiling and study the silence in the room seeing if I can feel my dad’s presence. Can he hear me now? “Did you do this on purpose?” I can hear him saying, You always want to be in charge. I glare in his direction. “Not funny, dad.”

  ✈✈✈

  The other thing that occurs to me as I’m sitting there is that I’m going to have to make this work. For better or worse, Jack is my boss now and we’re a team. If we go down, we go down together. It’s up to me to keep us afloat. I decide to go check up on my teammate—see if he will open up to me and maybe we can have an honest conversation about what happened and what we are going to do about it. That was my plan, and a great one, only problem is there’s no Jack to be found. I doubt he really had another meeting, but he left the building.

  I spend a few hours creating a post-meeting report for him with tons of background information on his team and their projects. Hopefully this morning will at least inspire him to take this more seriously and prepare for next week. After I drop that off on his desk, I decide that I’m leaving too—at least for an hour. I brought a sack lunch to eat at my desk, figuring I would be really busy working with Jack today. Instead, I eat it as I drive around listening to my tough-chick playlist. It’s a mild afternoon for January so I roll down the windows and crank up Erin Bowman, letting her remind me that I like to be in the driver’s seat and I can handle whatever they throw at me. I psych myself up to face round two of day one with Jack.