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I jogged to my office to collect my stuff, primarily to collect myself. In the tiny purse mirror, I checked the state of my hair and retouched the lipstick over my swollen lips. Then I took a long minute to take a few deep breaths.
Let’s hope I could ignore my train of thought throughout this hour-long meeting. The anticipation for that conversation with Sam was immense. Even if I wasn’t sure of the outcome that I wanted. Did I want just an affair with Sam? Did I want more? What wasmore?
Brakes on the train, Lucy. Grab your things and hurry on to that conference room.
As I stepped out of the room, I saw Sam coming out of his office with the widest smile plastered over his face. Gosh, he sure did have one beautiful smile.
When Sam caught up with me, he handed me one of the two tablets in his hand. The one with the periwinkle-coloured cover. The one I had left behind on his desk. Without a word, I accepted it and walked on down the corridor side by side. Our pace was in sync. Our distance was close enough that the back of Sam’s hand brushed with mine.
If we became official, Sam could touch my hand without the need to be accidentally on purpose. He could do anything he wanted with me and nothing would seem wrong. But that only applied to him. Sam was the boss. Nothing he’d do would be questioned. For me, everything would be the contrary. I’d be the talk of the office and all I’d do would be scrutinized.
Did you hear about Lucy Monroe? She’s shagging the boss. I heard she did it for the special treatment. Yep, she’s definitely taking advantage of him.
That kind of gossip alone could mess up my career more than the affair itself.
When we reached the conference room, Joe was already seated at the table. He was our ten o’clock.
Fuck. A new thought just boarded the train. Seeing Joe reminded me that most of my co-workers believed I was Joe’s girlfriend. My fault for letting everyone assume that. At this point, attempting to fix the story with a fake break-up would only stir cheating speculations if they learn of my affair with Sam.
“Morning, Parker. You’re early.” Sam greeted.
“I’m not. You’re late. Now that’s a first.”
I caught Joe throwing a suspicious side glance but I kept my face straight and gave him nothing. By my own rough calculation, we were some three minutes late.
Sam and I took our usual seats opposite Joe.
“Apologies about that, Parker. We’ve been swamped with back-to-back meetings withnewclients all morning. But of course, you probably wouldn’t understand. Must be less tiring to get one new client a month than the three or five I get here, isn’t it?” Sam decorated that pretentious lie with a pompous smirk. And yes, Sam’s white lie did strike Joe enough to only retort with a disdainful sneer.
Skipping any other pleasantries, I took the lead and commenced the meeting. “Sam and I called you in for this meeting because we thought to show you some ideas we came up with before next week’s meet with Zimmerman. We’d like to see what you think.” I searched for the files on my tablet, then passed the device to Joe.
Joe swiped through the draft artworks. “Wow. That’s a lot of great ideas… But they’re all too retro.”
“Retro is the main attribute in Zimmerman’s corporate branding. He requested that the hotel branding resonate with his usual signature style. And his usual is retro.”
“It wouldn’t work. Not with this brand. His new hotels are chic and sophisticated.” Joe slid the device across the table towards me.
Impossible. Sam and I had both agreed that the eight concepts we created were all brilliant, yet Joe liked none of them. Was he really not impressed by any of these designs or was he simply finding ways to argue?
I flipped through the artwork. Then turned the screen at Joe again. “How about this one? Contemporary typeface mixed with retro hints.”
“I say we should go for something more… minimalistic.”
Sam must have noticed my dejection because he set an assuring hand on my knee and took the cue. “Wasn’t it supposed to be our side making the creative decisions?”
“Of course. It’s what we agreed on, Samuel, but since we are collaborating, I still get to voice my opinion. But of course, I don’t expect you to understand. A smart man like you has yet to learn the meaning ofteamwork.”
Joe grasped the golden opportunity to strike Sam back for his earlier remark. And yes, it worked. I heard Sam huff and when he opened his mouth to retaliate, I stepped in quickly. “Okay, so the next step in this collaboration is to settle our creative differences. Joe, you say less retro, more minimalistic. Can you hint at any ideas we could work with?”
Joe shrugged. “I’m not the creative one here.”
I peeked at Sam. Sure enough, as I assumed, Sam was trying not to explode. His quivering leg was the tell-tale sign.
Holding on to my own composure, I nodded at Joe. “I’ll work with my team on a few moreminimalistideas and include them with these designs to show all to Zimmerman. He’s the client after all. It’s his say. He’ll decide which style he likes best and we’ll work from there. How about that?”
“I agree.”
Phew. Finally, Joe agreed on something.
