One Night with Him

by Sienna Ciles

  “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Williams,” I said with a smile.

  “Please, call me Ronald,” he said. “Everyone here does.”

  And his voice sounded like someone else's voice, someone I had spoken to recently, yet I had never spoken to this man before. This was very weird.

  “All right,” he said. “There are some things we need to discuss about your job, so, let's get started.”

  “Yes,” I replied, “let's get down to business.”

  Chapter 6

  Kain

  I was breathing hard, and each breath I drew in felt like I was dragging sandpaper down the inside of my throat. My lungs were burning, like someone had filled 'em with boiling oil, and my muscles were screaming out in agony as sharp pain shot through them with every movement.

  There was no way I was gonna stop or slow down, not now, not with the final mile in sight. I rounded the corner, pounding the pavement, and got onto the long straight that would take me to the finish line. Well, the lamppost that I used as the finish line marker of my ten-mile course.

  “Come on, man, just a mile to go. Push it, push harder! You're already two minutes behind your usual time!” I muttered to myself as I tried to will myself to push harder and run faster.

  The final mile felt more like another ten miles, and when I finally crossed the finish line I wanted to drop to the ground and throw up. Jake was already standing there, and he watched me stumble over to a nearby wall to lean against it with a smirk on his face.

  “What's the matter, buddy?” he asked, grinning. “Still feeling the effects of yesterday's hangover?”

  “Come on, man, that was two nights ago,” I panted. “I'm fine. Get off my case.”

  “You don't look fine,” he remarked. “And you finished almost three minutes slower than you usually do. That's huge, man.”

  I couldn't argue with him on that, and I didn't really have the energy to make any kind of comeback, so I just leaned against the wall, trying to get air back into my winded lungs. And as much as I wanted to deny it, I think he was right. This inferior performance was the result of yesterday's hangover.

  “You know, when you get into your thirties those hangovers start to really kick your ass,” he said. “Listen, bud, I'm not trying to be condescending or trying to tell you how to live your life but as my running partner, and as my best friend, I feel like I have to say something. You should cut down on this drinking and partying stuff, Kain. I know that you're not doing it that often anymore, and that work is keeping you real busy. But you still do it more often than you probably should.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I grunted snidely.

  “Come on, man, listen to what I'm saying,” he continued, persisting with his little sermon. “You're suffering now. That was a ten-mile run, one we do three times a week. You shouldn't be this exhausted. Last time you did it almost three minutes faster, and we were able to go throw a football around right after running. I don't think you could ever throw a crumpled-up ball of paper right now. And it's the hangover, man! You didn't get enough sleep, you were dehydrated, and I'm telling you, you're not twenty-one anymore. It takes your body a lot longer now to recover from the kind of ass-kicking that a night of heavy drinking and no sleep does to it. Trust me.”

  I breathed out a long, slow sigh as I gradually managed to get my breath back.

  “I know, man, I know,” I muttered. “I do have to cut back on that stuff. And you're right. Tossing a football around now is about the last thing I feel like doing.”

  “Yeah, don't worry about that. Come on, let's go get a smoothie and cool down.”

  “Let's do that. And even if I did want to toss a ball around, I don't I have the time anyway. I've got that conference to get to, and I have to be there a couple hours early to go over some things with my dad.”

  “Cool. Well, let's get going then, buddy.”

  “All right, son, are you sure you're ready for this?” said my dad as we stood backstage at the conference while the MC was announcing a few things.

  “As ready as I'll ever be,” I said.

  I tried to sound sincere and enthusiastic but in truth, I was neither of those things. I wasn't sure what it was, because I did genuinely care about the company and had a vision for its future but a part of me was just kind of apathetic about the whole thing. Maybe I felt that my dad was thrusting this onto me a little too quickly, a little too suddenly. Or maybe there was some other area of my life in which something wasn't right, and it was leaking out and poisoning this. I didn't know, and now wasn't the time to really get too deep into this.

  “Great. Well, get ready to kill 'em, my boy! I'm going out there to make my speech. You know when your cue is.”

  “I know, Dad, and I'm ready.”

  He and I embraced briefly and then stepped back and looked at me with admiration. “I'm proud of you. And I want you to make me even prouder than ever now. Can you do that?”

  “I can,” I replied but I really wasn't sure.

  I watched as my dad walked proudly out onto the stage, where he was greeted with cheers and applause from the thousand people who were gathered there. A nervousness was stirring in my belly. It wasn't quite fear but there were definite tinges of anxiety. Was I ready for this? Was I really? One way or another, I was about to find out.

  “I started this company in the seventies,” he was saying, “and back then it was only me and my buddy Anthony working out of a tiny, cockroach-infested office in downtown LA.”

  Everyone chuckled, and my dad did, too.

  “Yeah, you guys should have seen that place!” he said with a laugh. “There was a whole cockroach civilization living in there!”

  Again, everyone laughed.

  “It was just before home computers became a thing,” he continued, getting more serious now, “and he and I both knew that if we could connect the smartest investors with the computer market, which was about to explode, there was money to be made. So, that's how we started! Connecting hobbyist investors with guys who were starting out little computer companies in their garages. Some of those guys working in garages or their mom's basement went on to become household names. And this company was a part of that. Then, in the nineties, we got in on the whole dotcom thing, when the Internet became a household thing. And then a decade ago, when the first social media platforms started emerging, we helped investors connect with those, too. And now, the biggest emerging opportunities are in cryptocurrencies. And this is what we're going to be focusing on now, because I can tell you, just like I knew back in the seventies that home computers were going to be huge, I know that cryptocurrencies are going to be massive.”

  A murmur of agreement rippled through the audience.

  “But I'm not going to be around to take this company on to the next phase.”

  Everyone was stunned immediately into silence. My father paused there, allowing the audience a few moments to come to grips with what he had just said.

  “You heard me right,” he said. “I'm not going to be around anymore. My time has come, my dear friends – that's right, friends, because I think of every person working here for me as a friend, not just an employee. I've built this company up from a two-man operation turning over a profit measured in hundreds of dollars to a huge corporation turning over profits in the billions. But I couldn't have done it without all of you.”

  Everyone was still quiet, and I think that they were all still shocked about what he was saying.

  “I know that this is huge news, and that none of you, bar two or three people, were previously aware of it. But don't worry! All of your jobs are safe, and nothing is going to change.”

  As he said that, my stomach twisted into a knot. I remembered what I’d told the girl I'd slept with. All the secrets I’d let slip out about the possibility of letting people go and selling off a large portion of the company to investors. Suddenly, I felt sick. Almost as if I was going to throw up. I pulled in a few deep, calming breaths, and managed to allay my anxiety
. Was I still going to do that? To tell the truth, I didn't know.

  “You see,” my father continued, “this company is still going to be run by a Williams. Not Ronald Williams any longer. No, my time is up, and I'm about to enter retirement, something that, as much as I love running this company, I've been looking forward to for quite some time. Yes, I'm ready for a bit of long overdue rest and relaxation! So, this is it! This is where I sign off, my friends. It has been an amazing journey with all of you, and I wish all of you the best and the greatest success in the days to come.”

  “Goodbye, Ronald!” someone yelled from the audience. “We're gonna miss you!”

  The tone of affection and admiration in the mystery yeller's voice was clear, and a chorus of shouts and yells followed, until eventually everyone was clapping and cheering and calling out fond farewells to my father. I could see tears glinting in his eyes in the stage lights. This had to be a very powerful and emotional moment for him.

  “Thank you, friends, thank you,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I appreciate your words of farewell, I really do. Now comes the time to hand over the reins, to pass the torch. And I am passing it on to my son—Kain Williams!”

  That was my cue. I strode out onto the stage, walking with as much confidence as I could muster, and gave my dad a hug. Everyone cheered and applauded, which was a confidence boost. I shook my dad's hand.

  The MC then announced, “Let's give our new CEO a hand!”

  Another round of applause rocked the hall. I looked out over the sea of faces, over all the smiles, and suddenly I felt a lot more positive about this. But even so, the doubts remained. And the plans I had remained at the back of my mind.

  As I scanned the faces in the hall, one almost had me tripping over with shock. It was her! The woman I'd had a one-night stand with the night before last! Mandy. What the hell was she doing here? Her eyes caught mine, and I met a look of immense shock and surprise on her pretty face that was no doubt echoed on mine. What the heck was going on here?

  I looked away from her, feeling the heat of a deep blush warming my cheeks. I had to focus, and now was definitely not the time to panic. But what was she doing here?!

  “Before I give the stage over to Kain,” said the MC, “we have an announcement to make. We'd like to welcome to the company our new marketing director. Mandy Benson, could you please stand up? Ladies and gentlemen, please give Mandy a warm welcome! Put your hands together! That's right, Mandy, stand up, don't be shy!”

  She stood. Her cheeks flushed, and everyone applauded.

  Perfect. Just perfect.

  Chapter 7

  Mandy

  “Which one, Ellen? I really can't make up my mind,” I said.

  Ellen looked me up and down, taking in the details of the business suit I had just put on.

  “I like the lines of this one better than the last one,” she said, “and the red collar pops. In a good way. I'd go with this one.”

  I was hoping that she would say that. I also had a feeling this one was the one to go for; the lines complemented my curves, and the subtle shade of black really did make the collared blouse underneath pop quite nicely.

  “Great, I'll take it then.”

  Ellen smiled. “You're gonna look perfect for the big conference later. You'll make an amazing first impression on everyone dressed like that!”

  “That's the idea,” I replied. “Dressed to impress, dressed for success. Any other clichés we can rhyme with dressed?”

  We both laughed.

  “I think the stars really are aligning for you,” said Ellen. “I mean, you just walked into that amazing job, and now we set aside the whole afternoon to find the right suit for you, yet this one, the third one that you try on in the very first store we walk into, it's like it was tailor made just for you!”

  I had to smile. “Well, let's keep our fingers crossed that things keep going my way.”

  She crossed her fingers. “Fingers crossed.”

  I reached over and knocked on the wooden wall of the changing booth. “Knock on wood, too.”

  “People never say that anymore,” remarked Ellen.

  “I know. But it was something my dad used to say and do all the time, so I keep it alive, you know.”

  She smiled sympathetically. “Aw, that's good, Mandy. I guess you still miss him a lot, huh?”

  “Tons,” I said, feeling a pang of sadness nip at the inside of my throat. “Not a day goes by when I don't miss him.”

  “How many years has it been now?”

  “Three years, two months, and fifteen days,” I said.

  The date my father had passed away would forever be tattooed on my memory, and I still remembered that day as clearly as if it had been yesterday.

  It had been a warm summer's day, with a bright and cloudless sky. A breezy Sunday, and I had been relaxing at a barbecue with friends. I had seen my father earlier; he and I had met for coffee in the morning before he had headed out for a ride on his Harley with his friends.

  I remember the details so clearly, so crisply; how blue the sky was, how the water sparkled in the sun, like crinkled tin foil, the rich green of the grass and the scent of roasting burgers on the grill drifting on the breeze. I even remembered what drink I was holding – a gin and tonic. I had never drunk a gin and tonic again.

  My phone had rung, and when I answered that call my world was turned upside down.

  “Are you Mandy Benson, daughter of Quinton Benson?” the stranger's voice on the other end of the line had asked.

  “I am, yes.”

  “You need to get to Mission Hospital immediately, Ms. Benson. Your father has been in an accident, a serious accident, and he doesn't have much longer to live.”

  What happened after that was all a blur. I think I dropped the drink and my phone. Someone helped me, someone from the barbecue. I don't remember who. It all happened so quickly, yet it felt so surreal, so dream-like. The next thing I remember was walking into the hospital ward. He was there, broken and swollen and bloody.

  “We've done all we can for him,” someone had whispered to me, maybe a doctor or a nurse, “but the damage is too severe. I'm sorry.”

  His eyes had opened when I had walked in. I had rushed over to him and held his hand. He had squeezed it gently, and whispered, “Make me proud, my sweet girl. Make me proud.”

  “I will, Daddy,” I had said, fighting back the tears.

  And that’s when his grip on my fingers slackened, and the slow beeping of the heart rate monitor became one long beep.

  And that was it; he was gone.

  “Mandy?”

  Ellen's voice yanked me out of the memory and anchored me back in the present.

  “Sorry, I was just kinda, zoning out there,” I murmured.

  “I can see that. Come on, let's go pay for this and then get a coffee or something. We have a bit of time to kill now, since we managed to luck out with the shopping.”

  “Yeah, let's go,” I said, and took the suit to go pay. My mind was still half-stuck in the past. There was a decent chance it might be stuck there for some time. But for now, I had a new job to think about.

  * * * * *

  “It's great to see you again, Phil,” I said, shaking Phil's hand and smiling warmly.

  “You look absolutely amazing!” said Phil. “I'm sure you're going to make a great impression on everyone here.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “I won't lie, it's more than a little intimidating being thrown into the deep end here on my first day of the job – well, first night, if we're gonna be technical about it – and having to meet everyone all at once like this.”

  “Don't worry, you'll do just fine,” he said.

  “I know, I know,” I replied. “It's just hard not to have at least a few butterflies in my stomach at an event like this, when I'm the new one here. Jeez, I knew this company was big but I really didn't realize just how big it was until I got here!”

  “There are about a thousand people here,” s
aid Phil. “But don't worry, I don't expect you to remember all their names just yet,” he added with a wink. “Come on, let's go in and take our seats. Ronald is about to go on stage and make his speech. Remember to act surprised when he makes his big announcement, okay?”

  “I'll remember to do that,” I said.

  We walked into the hall and headed over to our table, where Phil had arranged for me to sit next to him, since I didn't really know anyone else here. I followed him into the hall, which was beautifully decked out, and tried to appear as calm and confident as I possibly could, even though I was feeling more than a mere tingle of nerves.

  We took our seats just as Ronald took to the stage. He made a speech about how he had started the company, how far they had come – the usual kind of stuff a CEO would say. Then the announcement came – his retirement.

  I had been preparing myself to fake surprise here but it turned out that that wasn't necessary. When he said that he was handing the company over to his son, Kain Williams – the same Kain I had slept with two nights ago – surprise had hit me like a heavyweight boxer's fist to the jaw.

  I couldn't believe it when Kain walked out on stage. I wanted to crawl under the table, to melt into my chair. Suddenly, it felt as if everyone around me was in on my little secret, our little secret, and that they would all be laughing soon enough when that secret was made public. I couldn't believe this. I was mortified, utterly mortified!

  The MC called for everyone to applaud for the new CEO, so I put my hands together, clapping softly and unenthusiastically, and just wishing that the ground would open and swallow me up. Damn it! I should have known that all of this was too good to be true, that this seeming winning streak I had been on would come to an end.

  And wow, what a spectacular end this was going to be. I felt like throwing up.

  But then, another part of me, felt an altogether different sensation. It was impossible not to feel at least some attraction toward this man, and he looked mighty good in his designer suit. And for whatever reason, at this moment my attraction toward him surged.