A subtle alarm went off, and it took a few sentences and three paces before I noticed.
“What is that?” I asked.
“You have ten minutes until your meeting.”
“You set an alarm?”
“Yes.” Wendy winked. “And ten minutes gives you time to wrap up that last thought, take a quick bathroom or coffee break, and head downstairs to conference room 1-B.”
I took the last swig of my now cold coffee. “Thank you.”
“I’m not just here to look pretty. I’ll finish this document, save it to a shared file, and head back to my desk.”
“See you in an hour. Wish me luck.”
“You’re Liya, who needs no such thing.”
“So sweet. You’ll make my teeth rot.”
Wendy’s laugh filled the office behind me as I left. I rushed through a bathroom break and checked my skirt and makeup in one of three large, oval mirrors. The dark circles under my eyes appeared a little more pronounced than usual.
Mental note: try a better concealer.
With an unstressed bladder, poised appearance, and chin up, I stepped out of the floral-scented bathroom. The hallway from my office to the elevator stretched the entire width of the building, and passing through without being stopped seemed impossible. A dozen people congratulated me, stopping to chat. I so valued the welcome, the support and appreciation of a lot of hard work and many long hours. As much as I wanted to stop, I had to thank them on my way to the elevator, checking my watch to realize I was now three minutes late for my meeting. Ugh. Screw me.
The elevator, of course, took forever, but I wasn’t about to break an ankle clanking down five flights of metal stairs in these high heels. I impatiently tapped a foot and silenced an annoyed groan when the doors opened to reveal four people and just enough room for me to wiggle in.
And of course people shuffled out at every floor, bumping me along the way, until only one other person remained standing alongside me. The doors slid open, and I hurried out.
To add to the ticking clock, conference room 1-B just had to be the farthest conference room from the elevator. I touched the door handle and took a few seconds to catch my breath. My heart pounded in my chest and my spiked adrenaline decided to stay spiked.
Clearing my throat, I turned the knob and quietly but quickly opened the door, thankful that the hinges didn’t squeak. As my gaze flitted across the room, paired with my apologetic whisper, it landed on an empty seat on the far side. I slipped into the chair, straightened my skirt underneath the oak table, and noted every person in the room from my director to the budget committee director.
The man at the head of the room, in front of a board filled with colorful charts, had stopped speaking the second I walked in and now glared at me. Oh, crap on the stick he said was up my butt, it was the guy from mandir, the pompous one who expected me to drop my panties with one smile.
Part of me wanted to just forget this entire mess, walk out, and yell, “Not today!” But there was, unfortunately, nowhere to go. And Liya Thakkar did not run from anyone, much less a man in her domain. I’d been here for years. Why was he suddenly here?
Jayesh Shah. He was like a fire ant. A tiny, annoying creature that, if given the chance, only required one minor sting to itch and burn and annoy for days and weeks to come.
He stated, “You’re ten minutes late.”
“I apologize.”
“Liya Thakkar?”
“I am.” As if he didn’t know.
“Hmm…” he hummed, and leisurely swept his gaze over me.
Oh, hell. I know he did not just pass judgment.
“I know you’re new to this upper management schedule, but in the case of meetings, we start on the hour. If you’re going to be late, you might as well not come.”
My director, Sam, who sat at the head of the table to my immediate left, grumbled beneath his breath and scratched his temple. My skin flared hot.
“If you can’t keep up—”
“I can keep up.” How about he just finish whatever presentation he had?
He crossed his arms, stretching the fabric of a well-tailored gray pinstripe suit. I couldn’t ignore the sharp look of his suit against medium brown skin, the lighter tones in his eyes, and his pitch-black hair. Having been very up close and personal sprawled over him on my parents’ lawn, those features could not be easily forgotten.
“Did you even read the emails that were sent out?”
I smiled smugly. “You must’ve forgotten to include me.”
“Apparently, as I see you’ve come empty-handed. Take a mental note, all of my meetings require a notepad and a report, but seeing that you’re sorely lacking in both areas, I assume we won’t be getting much information from you.”
I tapped a well-manicured ruby-red nail against the table. “Ask anything you’d like.”
He smirked, and if I believed in a devil, then I could bet my pretty panties I was staring at him right now. “What is your department deficit?”
I mentally went over the mash-up of numbers I’d read from the red file and replied, “Just under one million.”
“We’ll need specific numbers from now on. As well as comprehensive lab reports on all MDR products. Maybe you can make that your homework for our next meeting.”
“I apologize that I wasn’t able to provide an answer that pleases you within my first hour in this position, but I will have the figures for you next week.”
He began to roll his eyes but stopped short. He returned to his presentation as if I hadn’t responded at all. “Moving along…”
Jay was apparently the corporate lawyer newly assigned to our division, which explained why he took the entire hour to ramble. The basics were this: our company was on the brink of financial ruin, and he had to know how much money we could spare to stay afloat. Plenty of lawsuits were on their way, and he was here to try to curb them, if not stop them, hence needing detailed lab reports. I guess people would not stand for inferior medical diagnostic reagents (MDRs).
I groaned to myself, wondering how I’d ended up with a company that had caused so much suffering to patients.
Others offered a suggestion or two when Jay opened the floor for thoughts. When his gaze fell on me, that incredibly derisive smirk landed on his lips as he said, “Well, I’m sure your hour in your new position wasn’t enough time to figure this out.”
I could do nothing except stare at him. Was he actually this annoyed with me for not having answers, or was he upset over the whole dinner fiasco? I glared at him, but he didn’t seem fazed. He went on, a definite tick in his jaw, but I didn’t come this far to get my panties ruffled because of Jayesh Shah.
Everyone gathered their things at the end as Jay concluded, “Thank you all for coming and for your contributions.”
“You’ve got to work on how you handle people,” Sam whispered when he leaned toward me.
I released an exasperated breath as Sam filed out of the room behind everyone else. Jay sat down and shuffled his papers together, sticking them inside a black briefcase. We eyed each other as I walked around the table toward the door just to his right. As I did so, he slowly stood up, way up. The man was well over six feet tall. He buttoned his suit jacket with one hand, his chin high, his hooded eyes boring into mine. We both gave each other the slow look-over.