by Karen Gordon
Need a black suit from my place.
I pull over to reread it. Is this for me? Surely, he’s hired a new house manager and he meant to text her. I reply.
Wrong number. This is Vivienne.
He fires back.
Don’t need your jokes today. Photo shoot with Inc. mag at noon. I need my suit.
Why can’t he get his own damn suit? It’s eight a.m. he must be at home. Unless he’s at some girl’s house. I text.
Where are you?
And I wait for a reply…and wait…and wait. I try again.
Where are you?
Again no reply.
I don’t know where you live.
Surely he’ll reply to that. I realize I’m sitting in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot, so I take advantage of my serendipitous stop and go inside for a coffee and donut.
I’ve gone pee and had a snack and still no reply from Jack. I’m getting pissed, so I try the one other person who might be with him or know where he is. I text Savanah.
Is Jack with you?
She replies quickly.
He left here around 6:30.
I’ve revert to text speak. I need answers, now.
R U at his place?
I dance in my seat at her reply.
Yep
I’m happy she’s there to save me, but also irritated that she’s saving Jack’s sorry ass again.
Can you send me the address and let me in when I get there?
Her reply is a link that I can program in my Waze app. It’s a forty-minute drive to Jack’s place to get his suit. I don’t know what they did to him in New York, but I actually like the new Jack less than the old one.
✈✈✈
Thank god Savanah is there because I have to be let through the gates into his community before I can even get to his condo. She meets me at the door looking a little hungover, but too cute for Jack in one of his tee shirts.
“Hey, Vivienne.” She rubs her eye and stifles a yawn and I remember that she works nights, then hangs out with Jack after her shift. I probably woke her.
“I am so sorry to wake you and barge in like this. Jack texted me that he needs a black suit for a photo shoot today.”
I follow her inside what could be a gorgeous ultra-modern space if it had more furniture and some decorations. It looks like what it is, a rich guy’s bachelor pad. In the stunning kitchen she starts making coffee, or more accurately espresso on a machine that looks like it’s straight out of Starbucks. As she’s pouring the beans she asks,
“Do you want some?”
“I just had some Dunkin coffee, but thanks.” I watch her deft movements as she presses switches and turns knobs. “That’s one hell of a coffee maker. Jack uses that?”
She laughs. “No I use this, he has no clue. In fact, you’ll love this one. The house manager he had for two weeks bought it. She knew how to use it. The day after she quit he realizes he can’t make a cup of coffee, so has to call me to come over and do it.”
“Oh that’s priceless.” And so Jack.
“I’m here most mornings when he’s in town and I swear it’s so I can make coffee.”
She stretches again and I’m reminded that she might want to go back to sleep or get her day started. “So this suit, do you know which one? Can you go get it?”
She shrugs. “I have no idea what’s in his closet. I’m kinda afraid to look.” She walks toward the floating stair case and I follow. “I guess we can do this together.”
I love this girl. I want her to dump Jack’s ass, but I don’t. I need her.
His closet is as messy as his room. Jack is proof that money doesn’t buy taste. He has no head board, only a mattress and box springs sitting on the floor. They’re surrounded by laundry and dirty glasses and plates. I want to high-five Savanah for not cleaning up after him.
We search the racks and find several suits but only one in a dry cleaners bag, luckily it’s black. It takes us another half hour to round up a clean dress shirt, tie, dress socks and two dress shoes. I’ve never felt more like someone’s mother and I’m not liking the feeling.
Back in the kitchen my phone bleeps out the ugly tone I’ve assigned to Jack. He’s finally texted back.
What’s ur ETA?
No address for his place, notes about how to get in. I want to rip him a new one, but I don’t have time right now. It’s almost ten a.m. and I have a long drive back to the office. I reverse Waze and send Jack my ETA and thank Savanah for her help. She tells me that now that I know where he lives she and I should throw a huge party there the next time he is out of town. I laugh, but consider the idea. Lucca said I need to break more rules.
✈✈✈
When I get to the office Jack grabs his clothes from me and retreats to his private bathroom to change. He finishes minutes before the people from Inc. arrive and the mayhem begins. He hasn’t prepared enough to answer their questions thoroughly and he looks oddly stiff and uncomfortable in front of the camera. I would have thought he would eat up camera time. I wonder around behind the scenes and spy the photo proofs on the photographer’s laptop. Ok, even looking a little stiff Jack is a hot man. I don’t think it will matter what he has to say. The female readership of Inc. will go up with this issue. If they only knew him…
Which I thought I did. I knew the old Jack, pre-New York Jack. This guy is all business, or trying to be. He snaps orders at me several times and I have to fight my standard glare for now. He’s rude and demeaning and clearly trying to impress the Inc. crew with his take-charge style.
At one point Joel wanders in and watches from the background. When he’s noticed, he greets the people from Inc. by name, shakes hands, makes small talk, then leaves. He’s the epitome of a cultured CEO, busy but friendly and open. Everything Jack isn’t and it’s even more glaring now. I watch Joel leave. Once he’s in the hallway, he doesn’t bother to hide his disappointment with Jack, blowing out his frustration and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
After the Inc. people leave, Jack calls me into his office.
“He was here, wasn’t he?”
I know who he is talking about so I don’t play obtuse. “Yeah.”
“He say anything to you?”
I can cover this without lying. I shake my head. It wouldn’t do him any good to know what I saw in the hallway.
Jack grabs his car key fob from his desk and gets up. “I’m going to get some lunch. I’ll be back this afternoon to prep for the next Marketing meeting.”
I’m not sure how to respond to this new Jack, so I just nod. At least he wants to prepare, which is great considering the meeting is tomorrow morning.
✈✈✈
Jack doesn’t come back after lunch and he doesn’t contact me. I’m seething mad. He was an asshole all morning, playing at being an executive and now he’s already given up on that game. Only it’s not a game for me. My career sinks if his does and Joel is looking anything but happy with team Jack right now.
I text Savanah. She lets me know that she’s at work and Jack is there, getting drunk and pushing her to bail on her shift to go back to his place for afternoon sex. I have her tell him to get his ass back to work. She sends me a pic of him flipping me off. Nice.
I focus my anger into my work. If I create a paper trail of all I put into these meetings, I might be able to cover my ass enough to avoid Joel’s anger. At seven thirty, I finish a publishing-worthy report and dump a copy on Jack’s desk. As I’m sending him a useless text letting him know it’s there my stomach grumbles. I realize I haven’t eaten since my donut snack this morning. I feel weak and sick to my stomach and I realize I’ll have to do something I rarely do—eat drive thru. I’m too tired to cook something descent. It’s a small thing, but just another way I feel like my life is getting out of control. I hate being out of control.
Chapter Fourteen
Driving to work the next morning, my stomach is killing me. I blame it on the beefy cheezarito thing I ate last night, but it’s more than that. I’m havi
ng a strong gut reaction to today. I feel like something is going to go bad, really bad. My first guess would be the meeting, but they’ve gone bad before and I’ve survived. I know my gut is right, but I have no idea what about.
Jack is in his office with the door closed. At least he’s on time. I text him.
Ready?
There’s no reply. Ten minutes later, he comes out of his office looking like shit. He’s hungover that much is clear, but he’s also uncharacteristically haggard and grumpy. I follow him down the hall to the conference room where the Marketing managers are already assembled. Only today, they’ve rearranged themselves. They’ve made room for Joel at the table.
Oh. My. God. No. My gut clenches as the cheezarito threatens to find any exit it can from my body. I suck in a deep breath and push it back out. I will not throw up. I will not throw up. If Jack is surprised to see his Dad, he hides it well. He takes my notebook from me and takes his place at the head of the table. He opens it and starts to read to himself as we all watch…and wait. He finally clears his throat to talk.
“I apologize to all of you, but I just got my notes from Vivienne this morning and I haven’t had a chance to go over them.”
My heart stops. He’s throwing me under the bus. My eyes bug out, but I keep my mouth shut. I can’t defend myself, but I won’t apologize.
“So, since I didn’t get the information you sent me from Vivienne, why don’t we go around the table and each of you can give me a quick summary.”
And he backs the bus over me just to make sure I’m dead. I’m gripping the chair so hard my knuckles are white. The little fucker, I’ll kill him.
Each manager takes a turn and gives a short summary, never mentioning me, thank god. I watch Joel who listens intently and nods occasionally but, as always, shows no emotion.
When the summaries are finished, Jack winds up the meeting. “Great. It looks like we are on track. If you all would, please get your reports in to Vivienne earlier next week so she can get them to me before the meeting.” They all nod in agreement, but no one speaks as the bus rolls over them too. Everyone rises and Joel shakes hands and compliments the managers as they file out. While he’s occupied doing that, Jack makes a quiet exit. I’m stuck behind the group, fiddling with a notebook, doing anything to not make eye contact with Joel. But I have to when we are the last two in the room. I don’t know what to say. The silence is deafening. It’s the horrible moment after a disaster.
My heart is beating so hard in my ears that I’m not sure I could have heard him had he spoke, but he doesn’t. Instead he lets out a long sigh and shakes his head. It’s so bad that it’s beyond words. He walks out and I’m left there, afraid to move away from the waste basket in the corner. My nasty dinner is about to reappear.
✈✈✈
Jack isn’t in his office. I don’t need to look for him, I’m sure he’s left for the day. Maybe I should warn Savanah what’s probably coming her way. That thought is my wake-up call. How did I get so immersed in Jack’s shit that I’m warning his friends when he’s in a bad mood? When did I become a mother to a moody child? I stop by my office to get my purse. It’s ten a.m. and I’m going to lunch--a long lunch—probably for the rest of the day. I can’t be here right now. If Joel finds out, what’s he going to do, fire me? I would imagine that’s coming anyway.
I don’t know where to go. I want to drive away from all this shit, fast—really fast. Like over-a-hundred-miles-an-hour fast. I drive to the storage unit. I need the goat.
✈✈✈
It’s daytime so I can’t drive too fast. I head out to the marshlands, areas with two lane roads and rarely anyone on them. It’s a perfect afternoon to roll down the windows, blast the radio, and let the wind blow all this anger out of my head. When I reach a long, straight stretch, I floor it. The power feels so good. Driving the car feels so good. My Dad, and Danny, and Dom are with me here, maybe not physically, but in spirit. I’m not alone.
I drive for hours, until I have to fill up the tank. When I stop, I check my phone. It’s late afternoon, past four, too late to go back to the office today. I also notice that Jack hasn’t bothered to contact me. Fucking coward.
My stomach grumbles while I pump gas. It’s completely empty. I threw up last night’s dinner hours ago. I need food, but real food, good food. I return the goat to the storage unit and drive my car to Whole Foods where I fill a take-out container with roasted veggies and tofu and rice from the hot food bar. I grab a green tea from the cooler before checking out. I feel strangely calm, not like the fight has gone out of me, but like I’m taking care of myself, getting focused, preparing for the real fight that’s ahead. I have no idea what will happen when I go back to work tomorrow, but I’m going to be nourished with good food and rested to face it.
✈✈✈
I must be dreaming of someone knocking. I hear it, but realize that I’m in a deep sleep. I ignore it.
But it continues and someone is calling my name. I half wake to the idea that it must be one of my neighbors in trouble. No one can get into the building without being buzzed in so it must be a neighbor. Mrs. Ogden. I’m fully awake now and running for the door. She must be having a medical emergency.
I yank the door open expecting to see my elderly neighbor doubled over in pain but instead see…Jack. What. The. Hell? This dream is really getting weird. I shake my head and breathe in trying to end it, but it’s not a dream. Jack is at my front door.
My first instinct is to glance over at the lit clock on my microwave oven. “It’s three thirty, what are you doing here?”
He pushes past me and comes in uninvited, shutting the door behind him. I’m squinting at him through tired eyes as he plops down on my couch.
“Jack, what are you doing here?” He reeks of alcohol.
He just sits there, staring at the floor.
“Jack?”
“I’m sorry.”
Oh, Christ, really? This is not happening. “Go home Jack.”
“You’re gonna quit, aren’t you?”
He’s scared of losing me, and he should be. “I don’t know, but we aren’t going to talk about it now. Go home.”
“If you quit, I don’t know...” He loses his train of thought. “Don’t quit.”
“I’m getting an Uber for you.” I bring up the app on my phone and summon a car.
“I can’t fail.” He’s whining now, almost crying.
“OK, Jack, let’s get you down to the curb.” I pull him up off my couch and start to walk to the door. He follows, but he’s still rambling.
“Do you like me?”
I glare at him, but don’t answer as we walk down the hallway toward the steps.
“Do you want to fuck me?”
“Shut up, Jack, you’re drunk.” He walks down the steps, but misses the last one, falling on me. I push him off, and he stands up.
When we reach the curb he asks, “Why do you hate me?”
The Uber car pulls up and I push him inside. I tell the driver his address and apologize for the long drive. Before I shut the back door, I lean down. “Just for the record, Jack, you are a stupid, immature asswipe who I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. I don’t hate you. I despise you. Now go home, sleep this off, and never come near my apartment again. Unfortunately, I’ll see you in a few hours, at work.”
I slam the door and watch the car drive away and I smile. I’m pissed that he came here, but I just found out that he’s afraid of me quitting, that he wants me to like him, and that he wants to fuck me. Oh, the ammunition. I’m done playing by the rules. Game on, mother-fucker.
✈✈✈Continued in book 3, Departure ✈✈✈
“Oh, hell no, this can’t end now! It just got gooooood.”
Of course it’s not over…
There’s never been a crisis that Vivienne Ramsey can’t figure her way out of—until Jack. The reluctant future CEO still thinks that his ambitious assistant is too much work and not enough play.
Its beauty v
ersus brains and super-smart Vivienne is determined that she can help turn her boss into the leader their company needs, or die trying. Is a trip to Vegas just what they need to become a winning team or will too many delicious distractions in sin city pull them drastically off course?
Pre-order your copy now for only 99c!
Coming to Amazon, Feb 2017. (See, I won’t make you wait very long.)
If you love Vivienne’s story, puleassseeee (yes, I’m begging) leave a review for HiJack on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Let others in on the fun.
Amazon: http://a.co/48JZlId
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32800762-hijack
If you enjoyed Fearless Flying, you might also enjoy reading The Burnouts series, two completely out-of-the-ordinary, NA contemporary romances.
The Burnouts Series
Suburban Love Song (book 1)
One party girl with a secret older boyfriend…
One geeky guy with a girlfriend with a purity pledge…
One afternoon that brings them together…
On her sixteenth birthday Carrie Gould has no one to celebrate with. Her best friend’s grounded (again), her mother’s throwing a tantrum (again), and her dad’s not around (ever). There’s no one to help her eat the cake she made for herself, or is there…
He always has to dribble three times before he shoots the basketball, always. Ben may be a total OCD geek, but he lives next door, he’s really tall, and he’s usually hungry. So what’s the worst that could happen if she invites him over? One afternoon won’t change everything…
One day, two opposites, the start of something extraordinary.
(click here or on the cover to get your copy now)
Catch You If You Fall (book 2)
I always liked him.
We met sophomore year and just hit it off. We lost our virginity together because we knew it would be weird and awkward, so why not do it with a friend.
