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No. Not again.
Why is my stupid, obsessive nature taking over at the most inopportune time? Sometimes I hate my fucking brain. Freaking Miranda and her banshee screaming. I swear it gave me peeping trauma. This is her fault.
Chewing his lower lip, he makes a quick perusal of the room. “They, uh, gave you a nice office.”
Three insignificant things that happened today come to mind as I watch him. They’ve all lurked in my thoughts like flashbacks.
One—a typo in Matthew’s expenditure summary. “The necessity for upcoming holiday production should be considered when assessing the wait of August’s packaging expenses.”
The weight, as in the impact, but he spelled it W-A-I-T. I still can’t unsee it.
Two—Mark swung by to let me know that his girlfriend’s cousin, Jessica, is coming with us to the Mariner’s game this weekend. I would not have agreed to go if I’d thought it was an attempt to force me into a blind date, which I now suspect it is.
And three—I can still feel the hard slap to my shoulder in the elevator this morning when Randy told me to share my marketing plans with Preston. His smug, taunting look, daring me to refuse, is still burned into my corneas.
As I sit here, grasping for reasons why Baby Fairway has come bearing gifts and small talk, insignificant brain worm number-three snuffs out brain worms one and two. The company has non-disclosure agreements prohibiting the sharing of marketing plans between subsidiaries. Fairway Foods does well as a whole because each account manager has their own tactics that we don’t replicate across accounts in the event of corporate spying. You don’t put all your eggs in one basket, even if one of your newly appointed account managers is a family friend who doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. I am not giving away all my hard work to Preston fucking Rodgers.
As I sit here, watching Cameron’s anxious smile, I can’t help but smell a rat. We shouldn’t even cross paths, and now, after my gaze was accidentally snagged by something in a restroom, he suddenly appears in my office the same day Randy issues a blanket threat? Did he tell his brother about yesterday?
I’ve done nothing wrong. I refuse to be muscled by Randy or this kid to get me to hand over my marketing plans.
“The ventilation is abysmal,” I inform him.
“You’re telling me. It’s even stuffier down in HR,” he jests.
“Mr. Fairway, I don’t mean to be rude, but if you dropped by just to discuss the state of the utilities in the building, I’m going to have to pass. I have a lot of work to do.”
“Right. Sorry. No, I… Actually, I…” He blows out a breath and drops into the chair on the opposite side of my desk.
I do not recall saying or doing anything that would give the indication he could set up camp. Why is he drumming his fingertips on the armrest? I can see his fingerprints on the chrome from here.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“Seeing anyone?”
“Yeah. Dating anyone.”
What the actual fuck? My morose sarcasm from the other day about him having a long-lost sister comes to mind. I’m now actually terrified that it could be true, and he’s probing to ask me to court her. I was only kidding and never said it aloud. Mental images of having to schmooze with the Fairway family outside of work turn my stomach.
Stop it, Pete. Don’t do your hypothesizing thing. Not right now.
“No,” I let out cautiously, like a gunfighter studying an opponent.
“Oh, good.” He sighs, a big smile spreading across his face.
Fuck me. Do not tell me that John Fairway has a daughter.
“I…need your help.”
“My help?”
“That was rude, sorry. You’re probably like, ‘who in the heck is this guy, coming in here asking me for something?’” He gesticulates with rapid movements of his hands, his gaze satelliting all over the place. “I practiced at home how to say this, but it’s more difficult in person now that I’m here.”
Is he… on drugs? What on earth would Cameron Fairway need my help with, and why can he suddenly not sit still?
“I need someone trustworthy and…experienced. I know we don’t know each other, but you have a good reputation from what I’ve gathered from everyone.”
Trustworthy? For what? To kill the long-lost sister so she doesn’t threaten the inheritance percentages? And how does he know about my reputation, if I even have one?
