Unbreak Him

by Sam E. Kraemer

  Kyle held up his hand. "I don't need to hear you disparage whatever poor girl was stupid enough to allow you to defile her in one way or another. I already feel bad for her," he stated as he left the pantry.

  Thankfully, Jesse didn't follow him. Kyle sat down at the desk he shared with the two guys and one girl who also worked in the copy/mailroom with him. They were friendly people, and they didn't care about anyone else's personal life, which worked out just fine. Nobody talked about their weekends, which was perfect for Kyle.

  When he clicked on the F: drive, it opened, and Kyle was faced with pictures of Grant Cummings, his torso naked and a hard cock in his mouth. As Kyle clicked through the photos, he knew it wasn't exactly an ad campaign he was looking at… it was something far worse… revenge or blackmail.

  He quickly closed the window and ejected the thumb drive as he dialed Lindsey. When she didn't answer, he swallowed his nerve and called her boss.

  "Cummings," he heard answered. The voice was harsh, but suddenly, Kyle wasn't so intimidated.

  "Mr. Cummings, this is Kyle Rance in the copy room. I called Lindsey, but she didn't answer. I'd like to come up to speak with you if you have a moment," he offered. Clearly, it was better handled in person.

  "About…" the man pushed.

  "I have a presentation, here, I'm supposed to print for your meeting this afternoon, and there's a problem with it, sir," he offered in as kind a voice as he could muster, considering the man was a total dick to him.

  "If it's the Tucano presentation and there's a problem, call Cooper Daniels. He's coordinating it for the team," the man snapped before he hung up, leaving Kyle stunned.

  Kyle weighed his options and finally decided to call Cooper's line. It rang through to the assistant's desk. "Mr. Daniels' office, this is Destiny," he heard. He wanted to laugh, but he dared not. The girl was the dumbest idiot he'd ever met, but they'd hired her, not him.

  "Hi, it's Kyle in Support Services. I have a thumb drive here from Mr. Daniels, and I think maybe it's the wrong one. Is he around so I could show it to him?" Kyle asked.

  "Mr. Daniels is out of the office until next Tuesday. Should I leave a message?" she asked.

  "No, I think it'll be too late for his input by then. Thanks, Destiny," he told her as he hung up.

  He tried Lindsey's phone once again, but again, it rang through to voicemail. He left a message and then went about fulfilling copy jobs for other members of the firm, stowing the thumb drive in his pocket, so it didn't fall into the wrong hands. Kyle knew he had to do something with it, but he wasn't about to ruin Grant Cummings's life over an indiscretion caught on film.

  Kyle thought about it and hypothesized that Cooper Daniels was looking to get back at his boss for reasons known only to the two of them, so when his break came around, he went to the computer at the receiving desk to look up the client number on the work order Lindsey had given him. It was an upscale menswear designer out of Milan, and Kyle had actually heard of them. Wearing prison blues for five years had made him thirsty for fashion. He drank in the designs in fashion magazines like a cold beer on a hot day.

  As Kyle waited for another copy job to finish, he found a presentation board and quickly sketched out a drawing with the back of a man taking off a suit jacket as he walked into an apartment. He drew a curvy woman with her head bowed a bit, so her face was obscured, but the intent was clear. She was clutching a towel around her body, and the tag was, "The only reason to take off a Tucano suit..."

  He shaded in a little color to add depth, and he hoped it wasn't as simplistic as he thought it. Massimo Tucano was a big client for the firm, Kyle knew, and why he was so bold as to believe he could prepare a viable campaign in place of the one that was nonexistent, according to the thumb drive, was really a mystery. He wasn't going to blackmail the ad exec… just offer an option in the event there were no others ready to present.

  Kyle considered whether what he was doing was akin to what Cooper Daniels seemed to be doing? Was he blackmailing the ad exec, who would know Kyle had seen the photos and drawn up a pitch? "No. You're offering him something he's not gonna get from Cooper Daniels, according to that fuckin' F: drive," he whispered to himself while copying the drawing he'd made, and put his initials at the bottom so no one could claim it as their own.

  After calming himself, Kyle took the elevator to the fifth floor, board and copies in tow, where the advertising executives had their offices. He walked by Lindsey's desk to see it empty, not surprisingly, so he took a deep breath and went to Grant Cummings’s office, finding the door closed. Kyle knocked and waited. When he heard nothing, he knocked again. "IN!" he heard shouted harshly.

  Kyle opened the door to see Grant Cummings with his feet on the desk wearing a headset as he read something on his cell phone. "Call me back, please, sir?" the man requested before clicking the side of the headset and pulling it off.

  "What do you want?" Cummings snapped as he tossed the cell phone onto the desk. Kyle felt the pressure of the moment heavy on his shoulders. He knew it wasn't going to be easy to get the man's attention, much less earn his respect, but he was pretty sure that red, thumb drive in his pocket would make some headway. One deep breath and the closing of the door, he was ready.

  "Actually, I think I can help you, Mr. Cummings. My name is Kyle Rance. I work in Support Services in the copy center, and Lindsey dropped off this thumb drive for me to make boards and photocopies for your meeting this afternoon. After looking at the contents of the drive, I believe there's been a mistake that you’ll want to rectify immediately.

  "As you suggested earlier, when we spoke on the phone, I tried to call Mr. Daniels. Unfortunately, he's out of the office until Tuesday, so I came to you, directly," Kyle offered, holding out the red drive before placing the drawing he'd made on the man's desk, along with all of the copies as prescribed in the work order.

  Grant Cummings laughed. "Oh, you think you can crawl up from the belly of the beast and whip up an advertising campaign to present to one of our premier clients because you've determined you’re more creative than the leader of my creative team? Well, don’t stop now! Wow me with the talent you’ve been hiding in the copy center, Mr. Rance. I'm eager to behold your take on a Tucano ad," the short blond taunted. Immediately, Kyle despised him. He was every bit the asshole Kyle had heard mentioned around the office.

  Something in Kyle Rance snapped at that moment, and he chuckled to himself. It was like having a new plaything. It seemed Grant Cummings believed himself to be a god on Olympus, and Kyle was about to bring him down… hard. It was a position he'd always wanted to be in.

  "How about I show you what I don't think you want as your ad campaign for Tucano Menswear? If I'm wrong, I'll never darken your doorway again," Kyle suggested as he went to Cummings' computer and slipped the drive into the port, pressing a few keys to pull up the contents.

  When the first image appeared on the monitor, Kyle turned to see all of the blood drain from Grant Cummings' face. He then hit the enter key to show the rest of the images. Once he had cycled through all ten of them, he ejected the drive and looked at the man. Seeing him shell-shocked was quite satisfying, considering what a high-and-mighty bastard he'd been when Kyle came into his office.

  "So, if that was your campaign, then I'll happily take the drive back with me and make the copies and the boards as Lindsey requested," he stated as he reached for the mouse to eject the drive.

  Grant Cummings grabbed his hand. "I… I have… fuck!" Kyle watched Grant run his hands through his perfect hair, gripping the back of it as if he was going to rip it out by the roots.

  "You want to think about it? I could come back," Kyle offered. The man looked up, and he actually had tears on his cheeks, which shocked the tall, chestnut brunet.

  "Shit," Kyle hissed as he stepped forward and put his hand on Grant Cummings' shoulder. "Look, I could go try to talk to Destiny to see if she can find the presentation he's been working on. I'm sure she knows something," Kyle suggested
.

  Grant shrugged off his hand and pulled open a desk drawer, grabbing out two tissues. "No. I seriously doubt Cooper bothered to even prepare a presentation. This is his way of trying to humiliate me because I told him our relationship had reached its end… well, it doesn't really matter, I suppose. So, I have a client meeting at four, and I have nothing to show for it," he summarized, seeming to try to gather himself. “So, uh, what's your name, again?" Grant asked a few moments later.

  "Kyle, sir. Kyle Rance. I work in Support Services," he re-introduced himself.

  He noticed Cummings glancing at the drawing board Kyle had placed in front of him. He pulled some eye drops from a drawer to squeeze them into his eyes, blinking a few times before he wiped his face with a tissue and focused on the boards resting on the desk.

  Cummings examined the board closer before he looked up at Kyle. "Where'd you get the idea?" the man asked, not looking at Kyle.

  "I, uh, well, I have a lot of ideas. I have a degree in graphic design with a minor in marketing, and I know Tucano is a valued client of the firm. I've seen some of their ads in men's magazines, and while I'd love to be able to afford one of their suits, their older ads are too stodgy. They play to an audience of forty-year-old, cigar-smoking, scotch swilling, fat cats who belong to exclusive clubs. They don't relate to my generation at all.

  "Their business collection is impressive, but younger guys see the line as catering to older men. I thought maybe they should try to appeal to a younger demographic, and well, sex sells," Kyle explained, leaving out the biggest inspiration was seeing Grant Cummings' handsome face sucking someone's—likely Cooper Daniels—cock.

  "Hmm," Grant hummed as he continued inspecting the ad board. "Okay, um, draw another one, only make the towel-clad lover a man," he stated as he glanced up to look Kyle in the eye for the first time. Kyle could see the man's hazel eyes seemed to widen a bit, and it caused his pulse to quicken. Thankfully, his skin was tanned, so the heat he felt on his cheeks probably wouldn’t show.

  "Okay. I'll work on it downstairs and bring it up when it's ready. I have other things I need to do, Mr. Cummings," he told the man as he started for the office door.

  "Show it the opposite… back of the towel-covered man and front of the suit. Go on the website and find one of their new styles. It doesn't have to be perfect, but if it's as good as this one, I've got an ad campaign. I'll come down at lunch," Grant told him.

  Kyle nodded as he let himself out of the frosted-glass door. He could see Lindsey's desk was still empty, and he wondered where the hell she'd gone. She'd only had the job for three months. To Kyle, it seemed a bit premature for her to be taking days off.

  While making his way to the elevator, Kyle seriously wondered what the hell he'd gotten himself into with his brilliant idea of showing his layout to one of the most productive junior partners at Timmons & Associates, LLP. When the elevator door closed, Kyle thought perhaps he'd lost his mind, but it was too late. He had an ad to draw.

  Chapter 2

  Lunch came and went without any additional word from Grant Cummings. Kyle discreetly drew up a few ideas to give the man some alternatives… one with a woman in a beautiful, red cocktail dress helping the man off with his jacket. One with a man standing behind the suit-wearing figure, his face buried in the suit-wearers' neck while removing the man’s jacket. There was the temptation to draw a towel-clad man on his knees facing the suit-wearer, but Kyle was pretty sure Cummings would take personal offense to that drawing, in light of the contents of that thumb drive.

  Kyle continued to work on other copy jobs and logging package deliveries as they came in as if nothing else was going on. Bernadette, one of his fellow employees, returned from filling in for the receptionist with a big smile for Kyle. "Hey, you want to take your lunch now? I'm leaving early today, so I'm skipping," she explained.

  Kyle looked around to see Gerard and Sridhar were both nowhere to be seen. He hadn't even noticed when they left. "Uh, sure, if you don't mind. I just need to finish making copies of these boards for Mr. Cummings," he advised.

  Bernadette slid up next to him with a smirk on her face. "Did you hear Lindsey Blume got fired? There was a huge screaming match on five, and Cummings called security to escort her out of the building. The girls in the assistants' pool were dodging Marion Herrington because nobody wants to be assigned to him. The man’s a nightmare," the redheaded, petite girl gossiped.

  Kyle wondered why Lindsey had been fired. Was it her disappearing act that day? Cooper Daniels should have been the one canned for the stunt he’d tried to pull. "I liked her. She was always really nice to me," he defended.

  Bernadette giggled. "Yeah, well, you had a crush on her, and we all knew it. Anyway, go ahead and go to lunch. I actually have a job interview this afternoon, but don't tell anyone, please?"

  Kyle nodded as he went to one of the large copiers and made copies of the boards in his hand. After he checked them over, he copied the pink slip and signed off on it, putting it in the box for accounting.

  "I'll be back. You want anything while I'm out?" Kyle asked the girl, trying to be a good co-worker.

  "No, thanks. I brought my lunch," Bernadette told him before he left the copy center. Kyle walked to the elevator, pressing the button to summon the car. When the doors opened, he saw none other than Jesse McCaffrey with three of the other nitwits who worked in the graphics pool.

  "Well, if it isn't Rancid, the copy boy. Whatcha got there?" Jesse asked as he tried to pull the boards from under Kyle's arm.

  Kyle shuffled them behind his back and under his other arm. "They're boards for Mr. Cummings. What are you working on these days, Jesse? Anything other than the company flyer about the ice cream social at the end of the month?" Kyle teased.

  Jesse shoved him into the wall. "You fuckin' wish you could do anything constructive around here, you piece-of-shit faggot. I've worked on plenty of campaigns, and after the next round of partnership announcements, everybody moves up. I'll be promoted to a junior artist, and you'll still be ma-kin' cop-ies." Jesse said the last part slowly, reminiscent of an old comedy skit from a Saturday-night variety show. His idiot friends laughed at his sad, over-used joke.

  "You ever touch me again, McCaffrey, and you'll be waving out of your ass because I'll break off that arm and shove it up there," Kyle snapped low enough, so only Jesse heard him.

  The tall brunet saw fear flash across the douchebag's face for a moment before he chuckled nervously. "Jeez, Rancid, I'm just teasin'. Get a fuckin' sense of humor," he stated as he and his minions went through the rear door of the copy center back toward their large cubicle farm.

  The other elevator door slid open, and Kyle was happy to see it was empty, giving him a few seconds to collect himself. Once the doors closed, he straightened his wavy hair, noticing he needed to get a trim soon. He straightened his tie and checked his teeth in the gold reflection of the sliding doors.

  Kyle arrived on the fifth floor and walked down the hallway to Grant Cummings' office, seeing the door was closed again. He saw Marion Herrington packing up Lindsey Blume's desk, so he walked over to see if Mr. Cummings was on the phone. "I heard Lindsey got sacked," he stated quietly.

  The middle-aged African-American woman looked up from perusing the contents of a desk drawer, not missing a beat. She smiled. "Kyle, how you been?" she responded without answering him directly.

  He felt embarrassed for succumbing to spreading office gossip, which usually wasn't his style. "I'm fine, Mrs. Herrington. How about you?" he responded, pretending nothing had been said previously.

  Kyle watched her sigh. "I've been better. Um, I called down and spoke with Bernadette, who said you were at lunch. What brings you up?" she asked as she continued to sort through the drawers.

  "I was just dropping these off for Mr. Cummings before I went to get a sandwich. Is there, um, is there a problem?" he asked.

  It was no joke that Kyle was worried about his status at the job due to his dubious history, and as su
ch, he always waited for the other shoe to drop. Some days, he wished it would just fall on his head and be done.

  The woman laughed warmly. "Not at all, Kyle. As a matter of fact, Mr. Cummings asked me if you were available to take the job as his assistant. It would be a promotion out of Support Services and a nice bump to your paycheck if you gave it a shot," she told him.

  To say Kyle Rance was surprised would be a severe understatement, but his thoughts quickly caught up to him. Immediately, he was concerned about taking the job. Namely, he didn't want it offered because Grant Cummings was afraid Kyle would tell anyone about those pictures, or whatever had been going on with Cooper Daniels. He wouldn't want any job offered as a bribe for his silence.

  "I, uh, I'm not sure if I know how to be an Executive Assistant," he told the woman.

  She nodded, legitimizing his concern, as she opened a cabinet behind her, pulling out a black binder. There was a piece of printer paper inserted in the clear sleeve on the front that read, "Deskbook for Grant Cummings."

  Marion Herrington opened it and turned it toward him. "Every assistant is required to maintain a deskbook relating to their executive counterpart and the requirements to do their job in the event they're out of the office, and we have to pull one of the people from the pool to fill in. I happen to know this book was made when Maura Scott worked for him. They got along well, and she was very good at her job," Mrs. Herrington advised.

  Kyle remembered Maura Scott. She was a lovely woman who had worked for Cummings for a long time, or so Kyle thought he’d heard. There was a huge party for her when the woman went out on maternity leave, and when she gave her notice, he heard Cummings was sorry to lose her. Maura Scott was known to be an excellent assistant, so if she'd been the one to create the book, Kyle was feeling a little better about the job.

  He placed his sketches on the desk and took the book, flipping through it to see it was very detailed, which was what one would need to work for Grant Cummings. The last page made him smile.