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The fighting never stops for us.
We never escape what happened in that hut.
But I have to keep going. I can’t stop until there’s nothing left to win.
17
Raquel
Only Sandra and Dean are in the office when I arrive. Taron’s office is dark, and it looks like Patton isn’t here either.
“What happened?” My voice is quiet as I stop at Sandra’s desk, not that anyone is around to hear me.
Sandra shrugs. “Marley falls off the wagon. They go running.”
“Oh.” I nod. Somehow I think it’s more than that.
“If you ask me,” she leans closer, “he could use a little tough love.”
“Maybe.” I never know how to respond to that. Tough love has never been a part of my emotional makeup.
Marley is a troubled guy, but he seems nice. I know he’s smart and a hard worker. If I were his lifelong friend, I’m pretty sure I’d be there if he needed help, too.
I went running after Renée. I still check on her almost every day.
Still, the way they left last night felt too abrupt. Patton and I had been inching our way back from Sunday, then it all went off the rails when Taron appeared. They were clearly alarmed, and I’m sure it was more than just falling off the wagon.
In my office, I pace around, trying to decide what to do. Yesterday was a huge success landing the two Abu Dhabi clients. When he left, Taron said he’d contact Remi first thing today.
Chewing my lip, I sit in front of my laptop and review the files, reading all of Taron’s notes and hoping I’m not overstepping my bounds. Patton’s the boss, but they’re always saying we’re all partners here. Take the initiative…
With a deep breath and a little prayer, I type up a letter to Hastings and Key informing them we’ve landed the Abu Dhabi accounts and Dubai is in the works this week. I play it off that Taron is so busy working our UAE angle, he asked me to let them know. I close by saying we hope to hear from them soon and look forward to doing business with them.
It’s perhaps a little too pat and way more ingratiating than Patton would be, but I’m the new kid. I have a feeling it’ll be exactly what they need to hear. I hit send and CC Patton and Taron.
That done, I click over and sort through the database of commercial listings Taron showed me. I spend a few hours saving properties that look like what we want to offer—high end, luxury, security guards, and imposing entrances. Our clients are powerful companies, and they like their offices to exude a feeling of power.
I spend another hour reading the trades, looking at Dubai companies expanding or doing business in the U.S. I mark a few that might be in need of temporary office space. It’s after lunch when I finally hit the wall.
I’m out of my seat, walking around the office. I was supposed to be working with Taron all week on this, but with him not here and no information on how to proceed, I’m stuck. I’ve worked both sides of the coin, clients and properties. I don’t know what else to do.
“I’m going out for a late lunch.” I stop at Sandra’s desk and look over my shoulder to be sure Patton’s lights are still off. “Call me if the guys come in.”
“Oh, Patton said they might not be in today. He said things are a bit dicey.”
“That’s it?”
“They don’t tell me much about these things.”
Hesitating, I look back the way I came. “Did they give you any messages for me?”
“Sorry, hon.”
“Well… just let me know.”
It’s a gorgeous fall day, blue skies, no clouds, light breeze. Since it’s early afternoon, the lunch crowd is gone, and I decide to stroll down 12th Avenue toward Sevier Park. I’m not really shopping for anything, but it’s fun to look in the windows of the boutique stores as my mind wanders.
Last night when I got home, I kept thinking about dinner, our conversation, Jerry. Is it possible Patton sent Jerry to LA because of me? Why would he do that?
