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We pull into the parking lot. I say, “I’ll drop you off at the door.”
“No, you can park. I have no problem walking.”
“Ah, I get it. You don’t want to be seen getting out of my car. I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“No, that’s not it at all. I just don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“It’s no inconvenience. Besides, I can’t be seen walking with you. I’d lose my street cred.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” I pull up in front of the building and say, “Here you are.”
“Thank you, Quintessa. I owe you big time.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say quickly to dispel any chance of this ever happening again. “We can just call it even. You already bought me a jacket.”
“I never confirmed that.”
“You didn’t have to confirm it. That jacket is worth more than my car. Who else bought it?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Maybe you have an admirer out there who thinks you’re worth it.”
“Not likely.”
He rolls his sleeves back down, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. He’s very attentive to his grooming and appearance. “Why not? You don’t think you’re worth it?”
“Stop playing games, Mr. DePaul. I know you bought the jacket.”
He flips the sun visor down to look into the mirror as he adjusts his necktie. A bunch of napkins comes raining down on him. He finds it comical. I cringe. Based on all this crap in my car, I’m sure the CEO now thinks I’m a slob.
“Sorry,” I say. “No one usually rides with me.”
After making sure his tie is perfect, he gathers the napkins and puts them back where they were, folding the visor back into its resting position. Pulling the door handle to get out, he says, “Thanks for the lift.”
“It’s no Maybach, but it’ll get you from point A to point B, as long as I stay on top of the oil changes.”
A grin comes to his face. “That’s for sure.”
He opens the door and finally, that lengthy body of his is outside. I’m sure it’s a relief to stretch after being balled up like a pretzel.
He shuts the door and heads up the stairs.
Finally! I can breathe.
After a round of deep breaths, I say, “OMG…what was that?” I ride around the parking lot looking for a place to park. When I find one, I sit there for a moment to catch my breath. I can’t believe Essex DePaul was in my car. My car! And I had lunch with the man!
I inhale a breath and push it out forcefully, willing myself to get out of this car and get back to my desk. As soon as my butt hits the chair, I get a ping from Zahara.
Zahara to Quintessa: girl! where have you been?
Quintessa to Zahara: I went to lunch
Zahara to Quintessa: omg! we thought the dictator fired you!
Quintessa to Zahara: why would you think that?
Zahara to Quintessa: because he let all of us go after the meeting and held you back
