Working With The Enemy

by Raquel Belle

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  The Things That Go Wrong With Rings

  More from Raquel Belle

  Working with the Enemy

  Raquel Belle

  Copyright © 2019 by Raquel Belle. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations or excerpts for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Belle, Raquel. Working with the Enemy.

  Chapter 1

  Sarah

  Some people wake up and scroll through Instagram in bed on Monday mornings because they don’t want to start the week yet. Not me. I check my social media first thing not because I want to put off work — but because it’s my job. And I love it.

  I better love it. I worked hard enough, long enough, to get to where I am today: Senior Social Media Account Manager at Peter & Bowers, one of the best-known names in advertising in New York City.

  7:15 a.m. As I scroll through the accounts I manage, I’m interrupted by a direct message from Amanda, my work bestie:

  “Hey workaholic, save your social media monitoring for the office. I can see you lurking on Insta! Get your butt out of bed and meet me at work so I can tell you all about last weekend’s party!”

  I grin and throw off the covers. Amanda has been my coworker for years and is well acquainted with my morning routine. Well, she’s right. Time to get moving.

  After seven years of making the commute from Brooklyn to the Peter & Bowers Manhattan offices every morning, I have my routine down to a science. Wake up, shower, make a green smoothie for breakfast, pack my lunch (something healthy I’ve meal-prepped the night before), and then grab a to-go coffee before hopping on the L Train into the city.

  Most Brooklynites complain about the subway but I like it. I’ve always loved the gritty and grimy parts of New York, ever since I moved here from my small home-town in Connecticut to attend New York University as an undergrad at age 18.

  Four years later I graduated with my BA in Communications and jumped right into the internship program at Peter & Bowers. And I haven’t looked back since. Well, maybe once. I got distracted from my path by a guy in college… But he’s gone now. And I’m doing good. Not good: great. No regrets.

  Tuesdays and Fridays I get up one hour earlier at 6:00 a.m. to go to a class at the yoga studio around the corner from my Cobble Hill apartment. Amanda got me into Bikram; she said it would loosen me up, counter my Type A tendencies. I have to admit she’s right; I can be too rigid. And I do think the yoga is helping. Right?

  Amanda is already waiting for me, a giant coffee mug clutched in her hand, when I get into the office. She launches right into it, skipping any greeting: “You’re going to die when I tell you about this party.” She looks sleepy and her curly hair is up in a messy bun, her blouse slightly wrinkled.

  “Good morning to you, too, Amanda. You look like you came straight from the party, actually. No offense.”

  “Ugh, I wish. I can’t believe the weekend is already over.”

  “Come on, there are worse things than a Monday morning.”

  “Sometimes I really don't know how we came to be besties,” she pauses and eyes me with mock distaste. “Fine, tell me, what’s worse than a Monday morning?”

  “Umm, finding out Starbucks is out of ice when you’re trying to get a chilled latte in sticky, sweaty New York in August? And it’s 90+ degrees out?”

  She laughs, “Okay, fine. Don’t remind me about that incident.” We’d recently gone on a caffeine run in the middle of a horrendous workday when the office air conditioning had broken — only to find out the nearest Starbucks couldn’t make any iced drinks.

  “I thought you were going to murder that poor barista,” I giggle at the memory. Now that the sweltering August heat is behind us and September has arrived to New York, we can joke about the fiasco.

  “Anyway, check out this guy I hooked up with at this party on Saturday,” she’s followed me to my desk and is brandishing her phone in my face. I take a look.

  “Wow, cute.” He is. There’s no denying it. He’s a standard hot guy. There’s loads of them in the city. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Tall. Nice smile.

  “Are you kidding me? He’s gorgeous! This guy is like Hollywood hot.” Amanda throws her hands up in despair. “And the most you can give me is a ‘wow, cute’? I’m really starting to worry about you, Sarah.”

  I laugh. “Look, I can definitely appreciate the guy’s good looks. But right now I’m more focused on preparing for our Monday meeting than scoping out your latest fling.”

  “Fine, fine,” she grins. “But he does have a friend who’s single… Just saying.”

  “Not interested… right now. Show me a pic later?” It has been awhile since I’ve gone on a date. Or even just made out with a guy at a party.

  “You’re so focused, Sarah, it’s sort of infuriating. But I guess this is why you’re a Senior Account Manager and I’m still a Junior — even though we started here as interns at the same time. Anyway, next weekend you’re coming partying with me.”

  “No, next weekend I’ll be preparing for the Gillette pitch — it’s that week and I’ll need to practice my opening speech over the weekend.”

  “You really are all work, no play. Then at least come out today for the weekly Peter & Bowers ‘Monday Sucks But At Least It’s Over’ after-work drinks.”

  “LOL, is that the official name or just what you call it?”

  “I think it’s technically called the ‘Monday Motivation Meeting’.”

  “Ugh,” I groan, “Even I have to admit that’s cheesy. I like your version better.”

  “I’ll write to Mr. Bowers himself about a rebrand,” Amanda says laughingly. Mr. Bowers is the original Mr. Bowers of Peter & Bowers. He’s probably pushing 90 by now. “Anyway, you’re coming today. Sorry. I may technically be your junior but I’m making an executive decision on this point.”

  “Alright, just this once. Now get out of my way so I can get ready for this meeting,” I wave her away, smiling. Amanda is great at her job and could easily have made Senior-level status by now, too — but she’s more interested in guys and parties than climbing the career ladder.

  As I’m gathering my notes and preparing to head to the conference room for our weekly all-hands meeting, I hear the familiar click of heels coming up behind me. Serena. I turn and take a look at her, slightly awe-struck as usual.

  Serena Barnett is my boss — but more importantly, she’s everything I aspire to be. Powerful, smart, and in-charge, she’s been at Peter & Bowers for decades. Now in her mid-forties, she was the first woman at P&B to reach “President” level.

  I take a moment to survey her as we enter the meeting room. As usual, not a single jet-black hair on her head is out of place. She’s wearing a snug pencil skirt and cream-colored silk blouse. The top is cut dangerously low but her expertly knotted Hermès shawl is perfectly placed to keep the look prof
essional.

  “Okay everyone, let’s get this show on the road,” she taps her manicured nails lightly on the water glass in front of her on the table. It barely makes a sound but the room full of employees — all the social media managers at P&B — falls silent instantly. Serena can command the attention of any space in seconds.

  Amanda rushes in, the last one to arrive as usual. Serena shoots her an annoyed look, one eyebrow raised.

  “Sorry,” Amanda apologizes quickly, before sliding into the seat I’ve saved for her. I don’t even have to go to the trouble of “saving” Amanda a seat to be honest; everyone knows that if there’s an empty chair next to me, it’s for her.

  “Okay then,” Serena goes over to the meeting room door and shuts it definitively. This is the signal; once the door is closed, don’t even try to join the meeting. Serena will just send you right back out. Some people think Serena is scary or a bitch. I think she’s amazing.

  “Let’s start with account updates,” she kicks off the meeting. “Who has one?”

  Across from me, a hand shoots up. Lydia.

  I hear Amanda snort audibly.

  “Yes, Lydia?” Serena turns to the immaculately groomed blonde across from me. Lydia Bowers. The granddaughter of the Mr. Bowers.

  “Well, I just wanted to share that I landed the Fabletics account last week,” she gives a confident smile and nods smugly as a small round of applause breaks out.

  “That’s great, Lydia. Congratulations,” Serena gives her a curt nod.

  Amanda nudges me. Even I have to remind myself not to roll my eyes as I join in the applause; we’re supposed to celebrate each P&B team member’s success but Lydia’s successes never really feel earned — there are constant whispers that she only got a job here because of her name. Even though her ideas are never that original, she still seems to land decent accounts. Again, so the rumors go, more because of her connections than anything else — like brains, talent, or creativity.

  “Moving on, I see we have Sarah pitching Gillette next week,” Serena gives me a smile and a nod. “Good luck, Sarah. I have no doubt you’ll do a great job.”

  “Thank you, I’ve been working hard on it.”

  Serena nods and continues: “I think you in particular will be very interested in today’s updates. I have no doubt that one of them will spark your interest.”

  Amanda shoots me a questioning look but I just shrug my shoulders lightly. I have no clue what she’s referring to. What is Serena going to announce? Why would it be especially interesting for me?

  “I have two bits of news,” Serena goes on, “First, we have a new team member. I’d like to welcome a rising star from the P&B Chicago offices.”

  I mentally check out. There are always newcomers transferring in from other regional offices, trying to hack it at headquarters. This can’t be the news of interest to me that Serena was referring to. I sit back and relax, taking a sip of my coffee, waiting for the real news.

  She click-clacks on her heels over to the door as she continues talking: “I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to our new Senior Account Manager, Jake Baker.”

  Shit. My hand jerks involuntarily and I spill coffee all over my blouse. “Shit!” The word slips out just as I look up and make eye contact with the guy who Serena has ushered through the door. A guy I know well. My ex-boyfriend.

  “Hi everyone, thanks for the warm welcome,” he grins, looking directly at me, his eyes resting briefly on my freshly stained blouse.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Amanda stage whispers in my ear. I kick her under the table. “Ow!” She is the least subtle person ever.

  I can’t believe my ex just walked into my work meeting. Mondays really are the worst. He takes a seat at the far end of the table. Damn it. I forgot how cute he is. He catches me staring and smiles. Shit, play it cool Sarah. I quickly avert my gaze, not returning the smile.

  “Now, that brings me to the second announcement,” Serena goes on, looking pointedly at me. “Peter & Bowers is intent on keeping up with the trends in social media and, as you can see,” she nods towards Jake, “expanding the team in that area.”

  She goes on: “To help manage the growing team, P&B is also creating a new position. VP of Social Media. Working directly under me.”

  Shit, shit, shit. I’ve been waiting for something like this. All thoughts of Jake Baker go out of my head.

  She pauses and looks around the room before settling her gaze on me: “I think this is a wonderful prospect and encourage anyone who is interested to apply.”

  My heart is racing, adrenaline already pumping through me. Forget about Jake Baker; he’s a ghost from the past. This VP of Social Media position was made for me. And it’s definitely my future.

  Amanda is already excitedly clutching my leg under the table. She knows I’ve been waiting for this kind of window of opportunity to open up.

  “That’s it for today,” Serena dismisses us. “I wish you all a successful week.”

  She’s barely finishes her sentence before Amanda and I jump up and rush out, heading to the kitchenette at the far end of the office — the small one nobody ever really uses — to compare notes on the meeting. “Comparing notes” usually means bitching about Lydia (another Monday tradition).

  The second we’re out of earshot of the others, Amanda explodes: “OMG. This is amazing, you are so going to get this job!”

  I don’t even try to play it cool. “I know! I have to get this. I’d get to work directly with Serena. And oversee all the big accounts.”

  “She clearly wants you to get it. She might as well have given you the job on the spot, the way she was implying it’s yours already. I’m so happy for you.” Amanda gives me an impulsive hug.

  “Well, it’s not mine yet,” I laugh. “But I do think I’d be amazing at it!”

  “You would be like a big boss lady! You’d have a team to oversee.”

  “All the senior account managers…”

  “Including the hot new guy! What was that by the way? I mean he’s definitely hot but I literally don’t think I’ve ever seen you spill a coffee before, Miss Type A. Usually everything is perfect. Interested in the fresh meat?”

  “Ummm, no. Nothing like that.”

  “So, what gives?”

  “Well,” I pause. “Remember when we started here as interns?”

  “Like 100 years ago, yeah. Ugh, we’re getting old.”

  “More like seven years ago,” I smile. “Anyway, remember I was sort of sad about my personal life and super focused on work — because I was fresh off a break up?”

  “OMG.” Amanda pauses, her eyes growing wide. “The guy who decided to enlist in the army? You’re kidding. That’s… him?” She squeaks out the last word. “The guy who broke your heart after college?”

  “Yup.” I nod grimly. Jake Baker. My ex-boyfriend. My new co-worker. The guy who I dated for two years at New York University. The guy who I saw a future with. The one. The one who picked up and left for the army without even talking to me about it first. We were supposed to meet up before our college graduation ceremony; the plan was to attend the event together of course — and then, with our college degrees in hand, to start the rest of our lives together. Instead, when I went to meet him, I was let into his apartment by his bewildered roommate, who said Jake was gone but had left me a letter.

  “Didn’t he break up with you in writing,” Amanda asks, as if she’s reading my mind. “After two years together?”

  “Yeah. He didn’t even give me the courtesy of a conversation.” I pause. “I mean… His older brother, Bryce, was already enlisted and Jake had talked about wanting to follow in his footsteps. I just thought we would talk about it together first. I didn’t expect…”

  “To be stood up on graduation day.”

  “I just never understood why it was so sudden — and why he couldn’t have talked to me first.” I know Jake wanted to serve his country and I resp
ect him for enlisting. But the way he left me hanging, without so much as a kiss goodbye? Unforgiveable.

  “But what is he doing here now?” Amanda asks, echoing my own questions.

  “I have no clue. We completely lost touch. I figured if he wanted to end the relationship with a letter and not even a goodbye… There was no point in trying to track him down. Maybe he thought I would try to talk him out of it.”

  “Hadn’t he wanted to enlist before?”

  “Yeah, he had been thinking about it when Bryce went, like a year earlier. I suggested he finish his degree first because he only had one year left to go. So it wouldn’t have been a huge shock if he had decided to enlist after graduation… But it was just so sudden.”

  “And now he’s suddenly popped up here. Talk about fate.”

  “More like bad luck,” I respond grimly. The thought of seeing the guy I thought I’d marry every day in the workplace from here on out is far from appealing.

  “Well hey, if you get this VP position — I mean when you get the VP position — you’ll technically be his boss.”

  “Every girl’s dream,” I say with a smile.

  “You’ll have him at your mercy,” devilish Amanda says with a snicker.

  We start laughing at the thought of it but our merriment is interrupted: “Ladies, that’s a pretty harsh welcome for your new colleague,” a deep male voice cuts into our giggles.

  Shit. I know that voice.

  Chapter 2

  Jake

  I had no idea at all that Sarah Anderson would be at Peter & Bowers when I took the transfer to their New York offices, let alone on the same team as me. I mean, I knew she had plans to do an internship here after we graduated from college but that was years ago. I assumed she would have moved on by now.

  I should’ve known better. Someone as motivated as Sarah no doubt quickly impressed them at P&B and has been clawing her way up the corporate ladder ever since.

  Not that I wasn’t happy to see her. I mean, she looks amazing. Even better than when we were kids — which is basically what we were back then, in our early twenties, even though we felt like big bad adults with our freshly minted college diplomas.