He nods. “My soup?” he questions without peering up from the paper’s he’s shuffling through on his desk.
“They’ve already been told to make sure it’s available.”
“Good. I skipped breakfast this morning.” He takes a sip of his coffee that was left by Suzette. “I’m going to need you at the meeting with Cypress.”
“Already planned to be there. My schedule has been cleared.”
“Good. Now get out. I need to change my shirt before the day gets started.”
I dip my head and roll my chair backward, exiting the office to head back to my desk.
As irritating as this holiday music is and the accompanying decorations, I do my best to drown them out while focusing on this Cypress meeting. There’s nothing like a shit ton of work and the possibility of showing my skills to help force out the memories of the past.
“I’m nervous,”I admit to my direct manager, Jase.
He smiles warmly at me as we enter the spacious downstairs lobby of Townsend Industries. Stepping inside is like being enveloped into a winter wonderland. The lobby is beautifully decorated in various Christmas trees surrounded by gift-wrapped boxes as presents, and even a fake Santa riding a snowman to the far right.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Jase says, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, I spot a hint of fear in his gaze. He, too, is intimidated by the infamous Aaron Townsend, whom we have a meeting with today.
Knowing this serves to increase the nervous tingles moving through my belly. Jase, unlike me, has met Mr. Townsend on many previous occasions in the lead up to this deal. If he’s still on pins and needles, then I can only imagine what I’m in store for. Mr. Townsend has a reputation for being commanding and even an outright bully.
Frowning, I run my teeth across my bottom lip, remembering my father. He, too, was a powerful man who bullied to get what he wanted. Only, he reserved his most extreme machinations for his family. To the outside world, he was the perfect state justice and family man.
“Good morning, I’m Jase Downing from Cypress Mental Health and Addiction,” Jase introduces to the security guard behind the desk in the lobby. “This is my co-worker, Jackie Hinkerson.”
The guard frowns. “Her name isn’t on the approved list.” The skin on his forehead creases as he glares from Jase to me and back to Jase again.
I, too, turn to Jase because I’m at a loss about what to say or do. This is my first time in this building. I’m an add-on to the merger team, only having started with Cypress a month earlier. I’m still learning the ways of the company, and now we’re pushing for this merger to go through.
“I spoke with a, uh, Suzette. Could you please give her a call?” Jase asks the guard.
The guard gives him a stern look before picking up the phone. He maintains eye contact with Jase even as he holds the phone between his shoulder and ear.
A niggling in my gut tells me this guy isn’t just a run-of-the-mill lobby security guard. Something in the intense way he keeps eyeing Jase and me tells me that if we make one wrong move, he’d have no problem doing some severe damage to either one of us.
Glancing around the rest of the lobby, I see a couple of other security guards posted by the doors and one in a booth at the far corner. They all have that same eagle-eye gazes as they keep watch over the comings and goings of the people throughout the lobby.
“Suzette,” I hear the guard say behind me. I continue looking around the lobby until I hear the sound of the phone being hung up.
“There’s supposed to be five of you.”
Jase nods. “Our three attorneys are on their way. They’re coming from downtown, and—”
“You’ll remain down here until they arrive,” he says abruptly.
Jase, seemingly flustered by the man’s abruptness, doesn’t give any pushback. He merely peers at his watch and gestures toward the small coffee shop in the lobby.
“I’m going to grab a cold brew,” he tells the security guard, who nods after looking over at another one of the guards.
“Want anything?” Jase asks.
Though I've had my morning coffee from home, I could always go for more. “I’ll have a pumpkin cream cold brew.” I begin digging in my purse for my wallet.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he walks off in the direction of the shop.
Typically, I’d argue the point, not wanting anything from anyone who might expect something of me in the future, but I let that urge die at the back of my throat. I’m already nervous about this meeting. The fish out of water feeling comes on strong, thinking about how important this meeting is.
I’m acutely aware that my holiday bonus hinges on this merger going through. A bonus I need to help take care of my mother and get out from under my father’s thumb.
