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“Audrey, a word.”
She smiled at him, then checked her watch. She had nowhere specific to be for the next hour except making that one phone call, but he didn’t know that.
“I won’t keep you long.” He came across the room and stood in front of her. “You don’t look happy.”
“Oh.” She flicked a confused glance to Les. Chris was your basic no-nonsense, tailor-made grey suit, blue tie, chief operating officer of a construction company. He met with the team of project directors and managers once a month to assess the company’s position on their infrastructure development programs. He did action plans and deliverables, profit margins and secured pipelines. He didn’t do emotions or mental states.
Chris was her boss when Audrey was the most senior manager in the team and the only female. Now his desk was on the executive floor and Audrey was still the most senior project manager. When she returned from maternity leave, Chris had promoted two other managers to director and Audrey now reported to her colleague, Jonathan, who’d started at the firm after she did and had less industry experience. It’d sucked then and it hadn’t gotten any easier to live with.
“I’m happy.” It seemed the smartest thing to say, without knowing the agenda.
“Les, can I have Audrey to myself for a moment?”
“Of course. I’ll see you in your office to go over clause twenty-two,” Les said, on her way out.
Chris watched Les go. Audrey had spent a long time angry with him, but he was fundamentally a good guy, talented, deserving of his success, a strong leader. He simply believed that in the infrastructure construction business, men made better directors.
As soon as the door clicked closed he said, “If you’re not happy you can talk to me.”
“I’m happy.”
“You’re doing that thing where you make your mouth tense.”
“I do a thing where I make my mouth tense?” She put her index finger to her lips and felt silly for letting him get to her.
“You didn’t know that?”
Her lips felt perfectly normal, if a little dry. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“It’s your tell. Good thing you don’t play poker.”
He could talk about tells. She dropped her hand to her side. “Am I in trouble? I feel like I’m in trouble. Everyone is going to think I’m in trouble.” Les would be having kittens.
Chris buttoned his suit coat. “You’re not in trouble. Is clause twenty-two the same as wait five and follow?”
“Kind of. You don’t exactly fraternise with manager plebs unless they’re in trouble.”
He wiped a hand over his face. “I know.” He unbuttoned his suit coat. He fidgeted. It was such un-Chris-like behaviour it was unnerving. “There are a lot of things I don’t get to do. But I want you to know if you’re unhappy you can talk to me. I don’t want to lose you.”
Audrey tried to stop her mouth doing anything to give her thoughts away. If he didn’t want to lose her he could’ve promoted her three years ago. She didn’t have to wait for a spot to open. Her portfolio of projects was weighty enough to sustain a director position.
“I’m fine. I promise. I still have a voodoo doll of you, which I periodically stab more pins in. If you’ve been having random crippling knee pain, that’d be me.”
Chris’ nose wrinkled. Another of his tells. He was amused. “Some back pain. I thought it was from too much sitting, but if that’s you too, I’d appreciate it if you could move that pin a little to the left.”
“So I’m not in trouble?”
“Not from me. I do
n’t mean to pry, but you looked worried from the time you entered the room, Audrey. And you’re doing that thing with your lips again.”
She sucked her lips into her mouth so they weren’t doing anything other than mashing her non-existent lipstick against her teeth. The problem wasn’t the lack of a promotion in three years, it was the four hours. Four whole hours since she’d left Mia alone with New Cameron for the very first time.
There was the first hour when it was simply too lunatic to call and check-in and the three hours she’d been in this room where she couldn’t make contact without excusing herself from the meeting and making a thing of it. She could tell Chris that, but then she was simply reinforcing his view she was a mother before she was an employee and if there was ever a possibility of promotion it was about as real as the voodoo doll.
She made a show of twisting her lips this way and that until surely he’d think she was demented. “I’m good.”
“All right. Look, I.” He broke eye contact. “I want you to know how much I value your work.”
