Pure Abandon

by Jeannine Colette

  Just looking at this incredible, career-savvy woman, I’m baffled by why she has always been so nice to me. She’s been a great friend and supported getting me this job when she had no obligation to.

  “How are you? How is Gabriel?” Malory asks as she pulls me in for a hello. She even smells exotic, with hints of amber and cocoa pouring off her skin. “Don’t tell me you’re missing them already, because now that I have you here, I’m never letting you leave.” Malory lets out her breathy deep laugh that makes her sound like Lauren Bacall.

  I return her embrace, hugging her perfectly toned frame. “I’ve been so excited to come back to work and to work here.” She releases me from our hold and I follow suit. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  She waves her hand. “Honey, I didn’t pull any special favors. Everyone was thrilled when you interviewed. That’s why you got the job. Erik was begging me to have you start immediately.”

  “I would have, but we had to get a nanny, and I really didn’t feel right until I had Gabe’s approval.”

  Malory grabs my arm and we start walking down the polished concrete hallway.

  “You’re lucky.” She glides as if she’s walking on air. “Most men these days force their wives to go back to work. Yours wants you home. It’s a good sign. I told him the other day you need to work. You’re not a stay-at-home.” She says the term as if it’s a foul thought. “You thrive on this type of energy. This will be so good for you. Besides, you had to be bored sitting at home, feeding Junior all day long!”

  I stop in my tracks. “When did you talk to Gabe?”

  “Last Thursday,” she says nonchalantly, tugging on my arm to continue moving. “I called and you weren’t home.”

  That’s shocking since I feel like I’m always home.

  “I was probably at the supermarket. It’s a very glamorous life in the suburbs.”

  Malory tugs back on my arm, motioning for us to continue on and changing the topic. “Oh, how I hate that you left the city. Just promise me you don’t own a snuggle and jeggings and I’ll forgive you for leaving me.”

  “It’s called a Snuggie, and I would never be caught dead in one of those things.” I bite my lip, thinking how this is actually a lie. It seems silly to lie. Gabriel bought me a leopard Snuggie just last year, and I’ve worn it on more than one occasion. I just don’t want Malory to know just how domesticated I’ve actually become.

  Part of the excitement about coming to work is getting dressed again. “Like my new suit?”

  “Girl, it hugs you in all the right places. Especially where those new mom boobs come into play. You seriously don’t even look like you had a baby, except for the girls, that is!” Malory laughs and nudges my left breast for fun. She’s always been very brash. It’s something I’ll have to get used to again.

  “I have curves I didn’t have before. I think I’m carrying some booty too.” I tilt my head back, motioning toward my backside.

  Malory smacks my ass. “You needed it. Come, let me introduce you to the team. Conference meeting starts in five.”

  We turn down a corridor and walk along a wide hallway with a wall of glass to our left and a series of doors leading to offices on our right. Behind the glass wall is a conference room with a birch wood table, which looks like it can easily fit twenty people. Orange leather chairs with high-back seats and casters on the feet surround the table. Six plasma TVs line the far wall, while artwork of vintage alcohol and tobacco advertisements that have since become taboo line the opposite wall.

  Past the conference room is an open area with a pool table and plush leather couches. The place is high tech but in a groovy, frat house sort of way. Another flat-screen TV hangs on the wall. This place has a lot of TVs. A bit excessive, even for a media house.

  Erik, Gretchen, and Heather are in the conference room when Malory and I stroll in.

  “Morning, team. You remember Kathryn.” Malory offers me up as she pulls out one of the orange conference chairs and takes a seat.

  “So glad to have you on board.” Erik stands and gives me a congratulatory handshake.

  “Welcome to the team, Kathryn.” Gretchen is equally enthused.

  “Kat, please call me Kat.” I return their handshakes, making sure to keep them firm.

  “Welcome, Kat,” Heather says as if she’s sucking on a sour candy. Heather’s welcome is the least… welcoming. Even when I interviewed a few weeks ago, she was the least receptive to me. I have to remember to ask Malory what that’s all about.

  Erik Marks is the president and my new boss. He has long black hair and a black goatee. His wardrobe is equally devoid of color, from his T-shirt to his jeans and boots. The look is more biker chic than art house sophisticate. As casual as he looks, I can only assume he’s in head to toe Armani. And he has a wedding ring on his finger. I bet his wife is equally as fashion forward.

  Gretchen and Heather are another story. Gretchen, as I recall from my interview, is a bit, shall we say, high strung. In professional attire and a tight updo, I can tell she has never missed a day of work in her life and crosses every T and dots every I. Heather is about ten years younger than Gretchen, about my age, but is wearing far less clothing—a lot less, actually—yet looks presentable for the office. I suspect her purple chiffon dress is really a shirt. At least her black leather knee-high boots cover up some of what is being revealed.

  As the five of us exchange pleasantries, the rest of the staff files in. The entire staff consists of thirty-seven people. Less than I thought. I don’t know their names or titles but vow to remember them all by the end of the week.

  Erik starts the meeting by welcoming me to the team. I gracefully rise from my chair with embarrassment. I feel my ears starting to turn red.

  “We are particularly excited to have Kat on board because of her expertise in site surveys and logistics, which will come in handy for our next project. We will be covering a charity event right here in New York City that will be broadcasted on network Labor Day weekend. The airtime has already been bought. Now we just have to fill it. It’s a quick turnaround, but I know this team can do it.”

  There is a buzz of excitement in the room before Erik continues. “There will be seven headliners who will be performing at David Geffen Hall in Lincoln Center.

  “It’s an integrated project with the Asher Family. All proceeds go to fund music programs around the country. This is a New York event, but we’re representing the entire country here.”

  As Erik runs down the list of events, I learn what everyone around the table does.

  Gretchen will be the liaison between us and the various record labels we have a partnership with. Most importantly, she is in charge of booking the musical guests. Alan, a tall, thin man with a goatee and button-down flannel, runs the camera crew. Chet, with his wide steroid-looking frame, is the lighting director, and Kal, who is sitting in the corner, not at the table, runs audio. Each has a team of people they manage.

  Our stage manager, Richard, is a frail-looking man, while our head writer, Harvey, is a heavy-set gentleman wearing a brown sweater. “Heavy Harvey” is how I’ll remember him. The director, Seamus, will lead the technical team from an offsite control room. Erik is the executive producer, and Malory will be serving as senior producer, which means I will report directly to them.

  “Kat, you will be working alongside Heather on full-scale production, making sure the tech team, set designers, talent… everyone is on schedule, budget, and check scripts.”

  Heather’s grimace is obvious from across the room. For a pretty girl, she looks unattractive when she frowns, something I can tell she does a lot.

  I turn to Malory. “Is this going to be a problem?”

  “Of course. When isn’t there a little office drama?” Malory whispers, with a laugh, into my ear.

  An hour later, the meeting is over. Malory and I rise from our chairs and make our way back down the hallway, turning into a room diagonal from the conference room.

  “And, thi
s is your office.”

  My office?

  Shocked, I wasn’t expecting to have a space of my own. It’s not very big. Then again, it’s more than I expected. To the right is a sleek, rectangular glass desk with an iMac, Avaya phone system, and the most delicious-looking black Herman Miller chair.

  Yes, I have a thing for office furniture.

  In front of the desk is a charcoal-colored club chair, while mahogany filing cabinets line the wall behind. Crisp white walls offset the dark furniture. The space is modern and chic, bare but beautiful.

  In my excitement, I leap to the wall of glass at the far end of the room. “I can see the Empire State Building from here!” The view is slightly obstructed with other buildings, but I can see it nonetheless.

  “Only the best. Erik insisted on it,” Malory says, walking in behind with her Blackberry in hand.

  I raise a brow. “Insisted?”

  “Everyone is a vital member of the team. It was part of the character of the company Erik didn’t want to lose when he sold to Asher Industries.” Malory props herself against the desk. “Speak of the devil…”

  “Hey, can I come in?” I hear Erik’s voice coming from the doorway. “Again, I really want to welcome you to the team. It’s a pleasure to have you here. You’ll fit in great.”

  It takes everything I have to turn my gaze away from the stunning Manhattan view. “Thank you, Erik. I can’t wait to get started. Everyone here seems great.” Giddiness swims through my veins.

  Erik steps into the room and stands next to Malory at the desk. “Great. Well, I did come here on official business. You have a meeting with Alexander Asher first thing Friday morning. I tried to get you on his calendar earlier, but the end of the week is all he had available. He’ll be on the floor for the morning meeting.”

  I’ve heard of Edward Asher. Who hasn’t? But I’ve never heard of this Alexander Asher character, and I’m not about to let Erik hear me say that. If I have to meet with him, and he’s an Asher, then he’s clearly a big deal.

  “On the floor?”

  “His office is in the penthouse,” Erik explains. “The entire building houses the various businesses of the Asher family.” He says the family name in a sarcastic highfalutin manner. “Our little shop only occupies floor twenty-four.”

  The Asher building has forty-two floors. I only know this from being in the elevator. If there is an Asher business on every floor, then this is not a typical office building. It’s an empire.

  “Does he come to all the meetings?” You would think I would know more about the man now that I’m an Asher employee. Maybe I should have researched this a little bit more.

  “Not usually. Since he bought the company, he lets me run things. That said, this project is very important to him, so he’ll be quite involved.”

  “It should be interesting,” Malory says in a low-pitched, singsong voice. Looking down at her feet, she flicks the foot of the chair in front of her with her heel.

  Erik lets out a grunt from deep inside his throat. “Well, ladies, I’ll leave you to it.” He taps twice on the wall and departs.

  I take a seat in my new fancy office chair and recline back. I can get used to having my own office.

  As the door closes behind Erik, I swing my seat in a circle and come back to glare at Malory. She always acts like she knows something I don’t. “Have you always been so mysterious?”

  Malory takes a seat in front of me and crosses her legs. “Yes, but you were too busy picking out paint colors for the living room to notice.” She smirks, offering another jab at my domesticated life.

  I prop my feet on the desk. I’ve always wanted to do this—lean back in my office chair and prop my feet on my desk. At my previous companies, I’ve had a cubicle where the person sitting next to you can hear every move and conversation. But in here, I’m free to do whatever and say whatever I’d like. “So what’s the deal with Heather?”

  Malory’s Blackberry vibrates. She looks down and starts typing a response to an email. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she answers my question. “Oh, she’s had a stick up her ass since the day she started. She thinks you’re here to steal her job. She doesn’t like other women, especially attractive women, so you’re up Shit Creek.”

  If she doesn’t like attractive, then she must really hate Malory. She is one of the most glamorous creatures I’ve ever met.

  “Um, this new mom is no sex kitten. Maybe two years ago, but not now.”

  Malory looks up from her Blackberry, her eyes squinting at me as if try to decide if I’m telling the truth. “Kat, are you out of your fucking mind? You know you’re freaking gorgeous. But don’t worry. Once Heather understands you’re happily married, she’ll realize you aren’t the competition.”

  Heather must be dabbling in the office dating pool. I can understand. She’s young and pretty, if not for the sourpuss face.

  “Speaking of happily married…” Malory continues. “This new project is a quick turnaround, which means late nights.” Her tone turns curious, “Do you think Gabriel is going to give you a hard time?”

  I lean my head against the back of the chair and stare up at the ceiling. “I think he only wanted me to stay home instead of returning to work so he felt less guilty about all the hours he spends away from home.” As soon as the words pour out of my mouth, I instantly regret them. The last thing Malory wants to hear is my tales of a suburban housewife. She must think I’m pathetic. Mental note: keep your mouth shut.

  “Do you still have sex?”

  My body swings forward and my feet land on the floor. “That’s a little intimate.”

  “Well…?” She raises a brow, enticing me to indulge.

  Just like old times, I take the bait, even though it makes me entirely uncomfortable. “Yes and no. We do, but it’s not the same. I can’t explain it.”

  “What did you expect? You’re married and have a kid already. You’re the oldest twenty-eight-year-old I know. That’s why we get along so well.”

  I agree. Malory, on the other hand, is the youngest thirty-three-year-old I know.

  Malory takes my cell phone off my desk and looks at my home screen. It’s a picture of Gabriel and Jackson looking into the camera with their matching navy blues and wavy dark hair.

  “One thing’s for sure. You’re married to one hot guy. Seriously, the man just gets better looking with age. I’d be hitting that every night.”

  Malory always makes comments like that about Gabriel. I forgot how much it irritated me.

  “So who is this Asher guy I have to meet with?” I say, changing the topic abruptly.

  She lets out an exasperated breath. “Don’t let Erik hear you say that.”

  I close my eyes in embarrassment and sit up from my desk. When I open them, I see Malory still seated before me with her legs crossed and a wicked grin across her face.

  “Alexander Asher is, number one, your boss,” she says condescendingly.

  “I knew that.” The girl has to give me some credit.

  “He is Edward Asher’s grandson and is gearing up to take over the family dynasty.”

  I roll my eyes at the thought of having to meet with a spoiled brat who’s taking over his Granddaddy’s business. I can’t stand entitled people. New York is filled with enough socialites and wannabes already. I don’t need to work with one.

  Malory points her finger at me as I turn on my new computer and wait for it to load. “Don’t roll your eyes. Alexander Asher is on track to become one of the most successful men in the country. And he’s smart. He bought Erik’s company and knew enough to keep Erik as an asset. He is also becoming quite the philanthropist.”

  I’ll give him credit for the charity. The rest I’m a bit wary of. “So I’m meeting with a ten-year-old who made a few bucks playing Monopoly with the family trust fund?”

  Malory returns my eye roll. Apparently, I’m amusing.

  “I still can’t believe they gave you your own office,” Gabriel says, exiting o
ur master bathroom, wearing baby-blue pajama bottoms and a white undershirt. I take a moment to look him over. With his dark features and piercing eyes, he is one of those guys who gets better with age. A Clooney, if you will.

  When Gabriel and I met, he was an athletic twenty-one-year-old with boyish charm and a matching exterior. He used to wear jeans, funny T-shirts, and baseball caps. His hair was longer and fell slightly into his eyes. He used to brush it off his forehead when it got in the way or he was frustrated.

  Ten years later, he’s filled out quite well, thanks to running and pushups in the park. Gabriel doesn’t believe in spending money on a gym when Mother Nature has everything you need. The T-shirts and jeans come out sporadically, but his usual attire is a suit for work and pants and a polo shirt on the weekends. His hair is cut much shorter and it suits him.

  He walks over to the bed and I have to remind myself what we were talking about.

  Oh, my office. Yes, that beautiful, white space that’s all mine.

  “It’s small, but it has an awesome view.” I shake my head, still in disbelief that I can see the Empire State Building.

  “So what are you working on?” Gabriel pulls back the duvet and climbs into bed.

  “A benefit concert at Lincoln Center.” I grab the remote and switch on the TV. There is never anything good on this late at night, but I turn it on anyway.

  “Who is the concert for?” Gabriel asks, lifting his iPad from the nightstand.

  “Some children’s charity. The company was assigned to put together this major televised concert event that will raise money for music programs.” I search through the channels, pausing on an old Cary Grant film.

  “Like a telethon?” he asks, typing in the web address for CNN.

  I snort. “Yeah, kinda… but a thousand times more posh and without Jerry Lewis. Do you understand how much money this could bring in for music programs?”

  “And the revenue your company can draw…?” he asks with his eyes focused on the tablet.

  “No, Gabriel, this is all for charity. We’re not making any money.”