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Despite her threat, Nora took a hard pass on the Hanukkah sweater. Well, she tried and got as far as her elbow in the sleeve. No, today had to be about maximum comfort and confidence. Beck was going to run the whole show, but she had to be ready if he needed to pull her in at any point. She was sure he probably had a baseball term for that, courtesy of his grandfather.
She folded the sweater neatly, then picked up the Do-It-Yourself Sock Monkey Kit from the coffee table to reunite it with its socks in the bedroom before contemplating her closet for the first day of a new chapter at Britesmith.
She also contemplated how different this Monday could have shaped up, had she not met the handsome stranger at the holiday work party and hijacked him for a Hanukkah hook-up on a harbor cruise.
Had she spent the weekend working.
Two Jews walk into an office Christmas partycould’ve been the start of a lame joke. Perhaps it would be a story for them to tell for years to come, but Nora knew that was getting way ahead of herself.
For now, she was looking forward to walking into the office and sneaking a glimpse at Alex in action. Feeling that sudden bottoming out of her insides if he were to come by her cubicle. Bump into her at the water cooler. Shoot that smile at her, equally shy and seductive, the one he seemed to save for moments when she both amused and turned him on.
She pulled on her favorite pair of black Betabrand pants – they kicked ass with her suede heeled ankle boots like a boss…but allowed her movement for serenity yoga stretches if she needed to stress-bust. In solidarity with Beck, she paired it with a blazer, one with fun cuffs turned up to reveal silk pinstripes. A matching silk shell underneath kept it classy and cohesive.
She registered her phone vibrating a text against her bedspread. Then another. And another. Knowing it was a little too early for her OG Ballers group text to be blowing up, unless something was wrong, she warily reached for it.
Change of plans. Don’t come to work today. Fill you in later. Trust me.
It was odd to see such stilted words from Beck, in their text exchange pretty much exclusively full of photos.
They had agreed it was best he meet with Hedstrom one on one first. In fact, she was purposely coming in an hour late. But now, being told not to come in at all?
The second text was from Parker. As was the third. And the fourth. And the final.
Are U on way?
Tons of ppl locked out of office IDs aren’t working, stuck in lobby
NORA
Where are you?!?
ChapterEighteen
“Ah, two Meyerses for the price of one!”
Hedstrom rocked back in his desk chair. “What, did you take a jog through Central Park to get here?” He gestured to Beck’s more-than-casual attire: the track pants and hooded sweatshirt he’d walked Nora to the hotel lobby in. “And to what do I owe the pleasure, Marty?”
Before his uncle could open his mouth, Alex slapped the list of names on the table. “The following people have been made redundant in the acquisition of Britesmith Hospitality Group by Myers and Sons.”
Hedstrom looked at them, a calculated look of shock thinly veiling the fact that Christmas had arrived early in his mind. “Okay…” he began to tap at his keyboard. “You sure you don’t want me to have my People Operations girl handle the paperwork?”
“Seeing as my uncle disabledyour girl’sbuilding access this morning, that may prove difficult.”
He had beaten Marty to the turnstiles that morning, thanks to having skipped shaving and suiting up. Only to have his uncle flash his company credentials, and bark orders at Security. It actually worked out better for Alex’s plan to keep Nora as far away from the office as possible. Knowing what he knew about her, the hasty text he sent her would not fly. But he’d hoped its last two words would resonate with her.
“I knew you’d see the light, son.” Marty tapped his temple. “Numbers.”
Alex walked over to the grimy window of Hedstrom’s corner office. The one spot on the floor that actually had a view, yet the filth and neglect barely let the light in. But Alex knew – Nora’s people were all out there, living their lives, planning their dreams. Their auditions, like April and Tommy. Their weddings, like Tia. And their retirement, like Angelo.
“Grandpa My would never have treated people like a number and you know that.”
“But he knew numbers mattered.”
Alex turned to face his uncle. “Statsmatter. And like in baseball, you have to be looking at the right stats.”
“Ach.You sound just like him, you know.”
“And that’s such a bad thing?”
