Page 25
Story: It Happened Again
She gazed off into the distance at Manhattan, her voice softer now. “This will not be easy—the most challenging work of my life so far.”
“But the best things in life never are easy,” I said. “I like what we have, though, a great idea and a blank slate to make it what you want. My job is to make you look good. But you have no problem doing that yourself.”
“You’re so confident I can pull this off?”
“Zero doubts.”
She studied me for a minute. “Brooks?”
“Maisy?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” Before I did something unprofessional, like grabbing her and enveloping her in my arms, I said, “You’vegiven me a lot to go on, so I should head to the office and get to work on the plans. We’ll check in soon?”
“Absolutely. I think we should have regular updates twice a week.”
“At least. Call or text me the dates and times. My number is the same, by the way. Use it.” I winked.
“Good to know.” She smiled slyly at me as she walked away. And for now, that was enough. I shouldn’t rush things, can’t afford to make a mistake. I’ll take my time with her because she’s worth it.
Later that afternoonat the Bellamy office, Lacey knocked on the door of the conference room, where I reviewed some revisions for Maisy’s project and had the blueprints spread on the table.
She stepped inside, heels sharp against the wood floor, hugging her laptop to her chest. “How was the meeting at Orion?”
“Good. Plenty of work ahead. A job I can handle, though. Might be a few detours along the way, but I’ll manage.”
She gave me a look. “A detour with golden hair?”
I didn’t bite, but warned her off with my eyes.
“Um, sorry. Don’t know where that came from,” she was quick to dismiss.
“Lacey, listen. Archer and I need everyone on the team to be performing their best, okay? If there is any reason you cannot do the job we’ve hired you for, speak now,” my voice landed onthe harsh side as I intended it to be. But it was time I set things straight with her.
“I can handle it. I’ll be coordinating the press coverage on the back end. Let me know if you want me to handle anything directly with Orion’s PR,” her professional tone returned.
“Thanks. I will.”
She lingered, her gaze falling toward the plans.
“And I’ll make sure your schedule stays clear on project days,” she said. “Wouldn’t want any conflicts.”
“Appreciated.”
She gave a tight smile, then turned and walked out.
Hoping that accomplished what it needed, I dropped my pencil on the table and ran both hands through hair with a sigh. I stared down at the blueprints in front of me—a mix of Maisy’s ideas, my ideas, nowoursto bring to life.
When my phone chirped with a notification, overconfidence shot through me, certain who it was. I grinned at Maisy’s name on my phone screen; it’d been a long time since she graced it.
I’d had a florist send over an arrangement to say thanks for doing business with the Bellamy’s. Nothing I wouldn’t do for any other client as a small token of our appreciation. Completely above board, in keeping with our promise of professionalism. Although her bouquet might have been double the usual size.
Maisy: Hi, Brooks. Thanks for the flowers. Very thoughtful. Professional though?
Brooks: With mixed flowers, yes. Unprofessional would have been red roses, don’t you think?
Maisy: Fair enough. Unnecessary, but nice to see the pop of colors on my desk.
“But the best things in life never are easy,” I said. “I like what we have, though, a great idea and a blank slate to make it what you want. My job is to make you look good. But you have no problem doing that yourself.”
“You’re so confident I can pull this off?”
“Zero doubts.”
She studied me for a minute. “Brooks?”
“Maisy?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” Before I did something unprofessional, like grabbing her and enveloping her in my arms, I said, “You’vegiven me a lot to go on, so I should head to the office and get to work on the plans. We’ll check in soon?”
“Absolutely. I think we should have regular updates twice a week.”
“At least. Call or text me the dates and times. My number is the same, by the way. Use it.” I winked.
“Good to know.” She smiled slyly at me as she walked away. And for now, that was enough. I shouldn’t rush things, can’t afford to make a mistake. I’ll take my time with her because she’s worth it.
Later that afternoonat the Bellamy office, Lacey knocked on the door of the conference room, where I reviewed some revisions for Maisy’s project and had the blueprints spread on the table.
She stepped inside, heels sharp against the wood floor, hugging her laptop to her chest. “How was the meeting at Orion?”
“Good. Plenty of work ahead. A job I can handle, though. Might be a few detours along the way, but I’ll manage.”
She gave me a look. “A detour with golden hair?”
I didn’t bite, but warned her off with my eyes.
“Um, sorry. Don’t know where that came from,” she was quick to dismiss.
“Lacey, listen. Archer and I need everyone on the team to be performing their best, okay? If there is any reason you cannot do the job we’ve hired you for, speak now,” my voice landed onthe harsh side as I intended it to be. But it was time I set things straight with her.
“I can handle it. I’ll be coordinating the press coverage on the back end. Let me know if you want me to handle anything directly with Orion’s PR,” her professional tone returned.
“Thanks. I will.”
She lingered, her gaze falling toward the plans.
“And I’ll make sure your schedule stays clear on project days,” she said. “Wouldn’t want any conflicts.”
“Appreciated.”
She gave a tight smile, then turned and walked out.
Hoping that accomplished what it needed, I dropped my pencil on the table and ran both hands through hair with a sigh. I stared down at the blueprints in front of me—a mix of Maisy’s ideas, my ideas, nowoursto bring to life.
When my phone chirped with a notification, overconfidence shot through me, certain who it was. I grinned at Maisy’s name on my phone screen; it’d been a long time since she graced it.
I’d had a florist send over an arrangement to say thanks for doing business with the Bellamy’s. Nothing I wouldn’t do for any other client as a small token of our appreciation. Completely above board, in keeping with our promise of professionalism. Although her bouquet might have been double the usual size.
Maisy: Hi, Brooks. Thanks for the flowers. Very thoughtful. Professional though?
Brooks: With mixed flowers, yes. Unprofessional would have been red roses, don’t you think?
Maisy: Fair enough. Unnecessary, but nice to see the pop of colors on my desk.
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