Glimpses

Chapter 56

January 15th, 2015

"No, I told you, we need Sebastian for the Toast account," Logan said, to the point, as he made his way from the elevator towards his office that day.

It was already nearly 7 PM, his last meeting having run later than he'd planned.

"Yes, he has an 'in' with them, he'll get us a good deal and doesn't skimp on quality just to make them like him," he continued to speak into his phone that was lodged between his shoulder and ear, holding his laptop and notebook in one hand and opening doors with the other.

As he made his way past the hallways, the person at the other end of the line still continuing to speak, he mouthed to a few of his workers in passing what his next directions to them would be. 'Go' on a project that had been pending for funding, and drop another, which had an impending lawsuit.

"Yes, Angie can handle that part," Logan replied to his phone. "No, I don't want some random intern to follow along. This is too big of a deal, with clients that are too picky for their own good, it's not worth the risk. Fill the intern in later, there's plenty to do at the office," he added, sounding frustrated of the person he was talking to.

"Alright, I'll talk to you later," he added, desperately needing the call to end and pushed open the door to his offices - his private office, his assistant's station and a private conference room he never had to fight anyone over.

"Mitchum called," Marjorie said, as he came to a halt in front of her desk.

Logan didn't like having the woman walk after him like his dad let many assistants do. Like his time mattered and their's didn't. He was passing her station anyways, so he always made it a point to come to a halt and listen. He knew it was in his best interest to hear whatever this woman had to say.

Marjorie was an interesting person too. She was part of the older generation, certainly, but she was more modern than that, even the way she dressed was far from the D.A.R dresscodes and rather followed the timeless trends of Scandinavian designers, that hung on her slim form by expressing her neutral yet brave character. Her hair was cut into a short bob, and wore her grey hair with pride, unlike Mitchum's assistant Natasha. Marjorie was real.

"Ah..," Logan exhaled, reluctantly.

"But I told him you were working on the Maxwell project and he left a message, saying he'll be by on Monday," Marjorie told him.

Logan smiled, appreciatively.

"There were a few other things, but those can wait till Monday," she added, having been doing this long enough to make those decisions and Logan was utterly grateful she did. He even knew why Marjorie held off on the details on Fridays. She knew he wouldn't stop until he'd answered every e-mail and returned every call. And the only way to get him out of the door was if she regulated what she put on him.

It wasn't about him being a workaholic, it was about being on a roll and it being difficult to stop. It was about feeling responsible for his work and employees and loving when a plan came together. It was about not wanting to leave his workers at the office alone on a Friday evening. But this evening was different and Marjorie knew it.

"The car should be down in 10," Marjorie simply added.

"Great, thanks," he replied, and was about to step towards his office to change quickly out of his work clothes to change to something fresher and put away his things.

"Oh, and could you call..," he began to instruct, realizing he was running late.

"I already did," Marjorie replied. "She'll be in the car," she added, referring to Ms. Gilmore.