Talk To Me

15 || The Book

His charm, will disarm; his smile, in style.

 "Alvichson Ultra has been trying to expand in the past month, but it hasn't gone down too well."

His fashion, in passion; his words, his flirt.

"We've been trying to schedule a meeting with them, to ask how they would feel about the same deal we offered ILS."

His tie, from his shirt, to my wrists.

"I think they still haven't returned our call, have they, Harper?"

His kiss! His kiss! His kiss!

"Harper?"

 I gave a start, crashlanding back to reality, which was in an air-conditioned conference room at the edge of a sleek oval table with a running PowerPoint presentation on a screen and three men and two women in business suits consulting papers and files with Bluetooths clipped to their ears.

 And my boss. My dad. At the head of the table. Looking at me expectantly.

 I rearranged my vacant expression into a charming smile the best I could, straightening up in my chair. "No, sir, they haven't responded yet."

 "Well, that's a shame," said one woman briskly, shuffling and reshuffling her papers. Fortunately, they didn't seem to pay much attention to my lapse in attention, I was merely a part of the wall of the conference room to them. "If we don't hear back from them within the week, I vote we move on to Harrison and Peters."

 "That's a good idea," agreed the man in front of her.

 "Alright then," said Adrian, rising from the desk, tying the lower button of his jacket. "Meeting adjourned."

 I kept my head down as they all filed out from the room, and then I followed Adrian to his office, trying my best to not redden out of anger and shame. What was I thinking, sitting in full view of Adrian and reciting Lang Leav in my head whilst recalling the greatest kiss of my life?

 That kiss. What a kiss.

 "Well, next up is my three o'clock with Jefferson," said Adrian, sighing loudly as he flopped onto his high-back chair, the hinges squeaking as he leaned back on it. "That is going to be hectic. Accounting sent over their reports, right?"

 "Yes, sir, they did," I replied, overdoing the attentiveness and formality to compensate for my stupid mistake earlier.

 Adrian leaned forwards, resting his chin atop his fat, interlocked fingers. "You alright, Harper?"

 I met his eyes, wondering if he could see through my forced pleasantry, into the boiling despair and frustration. Could he hear the questions running in my head? The questions that screamed and demanded to be answered and made me want to slam my head repeatedly into a wall? What is Michael hiding? How do I get it? Would I ever get it? Would I be able to outsmart him in time? Will Zach suspect anything? Will Michael suspect anything? Could I fucking pull this off and destroy the man sitting in front of me right now?

"I'm quite alright, sir, why do you ask?" Did he interpret my charming smile as a reptilian snarl?

 "No reason, just checking in to see how my new efficient secretary is doing." Ugh, barf. Did he just say that? Nevertheless, I presented an answering blush and a flattered smile as my response.

"So...I saw you with Emerson, the other day."

 You saw me? Is that how you term your bulging-eyed, red faced look of terror? "Saw"? Really?

 "Do you two know each other?"

 Poor guy. He really had to work on how to sound casual. I could literally smell his sweat. "Oh yes, sir." Bright smile of reminiscence, on. "He and I used to go to Greenwood High. It was nice to see an old friend here, thought to catch up."