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Skylar

The building that I work in is a highrise, and my offices occupy the tenth to the fourteenth floor. I do my best to arrive at work with at least fifteen minutes to spare each day, but today I am running late. I stayed up late last night completing a project that I was behind on.

Today, I was to present to a room full of executives in the afternoon, about the new initiatives that my program will work on for the fall quarter, and why we need to work on seeking new programs to start up in the new year.

I step into the elevator from the ground floor. It’s empty aside from the man staring at the phone in his hand. He glances up and offers me a smile before he returns his gaze to the device.

He’s handsome, at least from what I can tell.

Tall, lean, with blonde hair. He is totally my type, and normally, I would spark up a conversation with him, flirting a little, but I keep to myself and think about Chase Thorne.

The man who I want, who wants me, but can’t bring himself to touch me in how I want him to. The way he really wants to, either.

We’ve had two opportunities, where it’s been serendipitous that we were alone. And both times, we have could have crossed the invisible line, however; we get interrupted.

Is that fate telling us it just can’t happen? It is an invisible string that puts us together, then pulls us apart?

He came and kept me company the other night when the power was out. Sure, I know he did it because my overprotective brother asked him to. But there was something else there. Something that pushed us together. It wasn’t because we were forced together.

“I’ve never seen you here before. Which company are you with?” the man who was looking at his phone asks.

I look at him, and his phone is no longer in his hand, and his attention is on me.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, um. We just opened up offices here. I work on the eleventh floor, for United Methods.”

“And what is United Methods?” he asks, as the elevator doors open on the second floor and someone enters. He moves closer to me.

“We are a non-profit that aligns with partners in the community to help the underserved. We provide opportunities for our partners to address inequities and to use resources to help others.”

“Ah, so you are a do-gooder?” he grins.

“Well, yeah, you can say that. And what do you do?”

“Jack. My name is Jack. I work up on the twentieth floor for Forde Investments. We’re a real estate investment firm,” he says proudly.

“Fancy,” I deadpan, not liking the cockiness of this guy. The way he talks is annoying.

“We buy commercial spaces, lease them to new companies on terms, and then rinse to repeat.”

The elevator stops on my floor. “Well, Jim. It was very nice to meet you. See you around.”

“It’s Jack,” he corrects me, his hand darting out before the doors close. “Wait, I never got your name?”

“I didn’t give it, but I’m Skylar,” I reply to not be rude as I turn on my heel and walk to the double glass doors, push through them, and smile at the receptionist as I walk past her toward my office. That Jack guy is someone I definitely want to avoid.

As soon as I’m seated at my desk, my phone rings. I sigh. I haven’t settled in, and already - the chaos begins.

“This is Skylar,” I answer.

“Skylar. Great, you’re in. We have an emergency meeting in five minutes,” one of the other managers says on the other end in a rushed tone.

“What about?”

“They won’t say. Five minutes, upper deck. Conference room A.” He hangs up abruptly.

I pull my laptop out of my shoulder bag, grab a notepad, and head to the kitchen on my floor.

I fill up my water bottle, grab a banana, and head over to the elevator banks.

I ride up to the fourteenth floor and head straight to the conference room.

There are six other managers, my boss, and his assistant, standing around.

Everyone looks frazzled and confused about the circumstances that we’re here.

No one pays attention to me as I take a seat, and one by one, everyone else sits as well.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering what the emergency is.

Well, we have three contracts that the funders have completely pulled out of.

This is going to hinder the rest of our year and into the first half of next year.

If we don’t brainstorm now, we are going to have a lot of different agencies up in arms and losing programs because of it.

Not to mention, the communities. So, we will open up a battle board and won’t be leaving this room until we have some kind of plan. ”

My presentation that I had planned for this afternoon is now considered irrelevant.

Everything that I poured over in the past week and heavily in the past twenty-four hours means nothing to the agency.

I had intended to ask for more funding. But now, we have several grants that need to be fulfilled, not just my programs. I have to put it all on the back burner.

A wave of despair crashes over me as my boss continues to speak.

“Sir, how many programs are affected? Which departments?” I ask the moment he stops talking.

“I’m glad you asked, Ms. Hale. With the managers in this room, we have twenty-three programs. Off the top of my head, I’m unaware of how many will be for each of you, but when we tallied up everything, only eleven programs were not affected.

Your emails will have more details on which programs are affected.

But I want us to look at the larger picture right now. ”

All the air is sucked out of the room. I feel like my heart has stopped.

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that? The number of programs part.” Larry, to my right, asks.

“Out of twenty-four programs, we have eleven that are not losing any funding or will lose a small portion of grants.”

An echo of groans reverberates through the room. Heads hang, fists clench, and I’m pretty sure teeth are being ground.

This is an enormous setback. It could take months to get back to where we were just yesterday.

It takes time for organizations to submit contracts to us.

Setting up and getting operational involves months of work in terms of labor, both internal and external development, and costs. This is an immense loss.

I want to know how many of the funders are now considered gone.

And I want to shout at those who have put us in this situation.

But there’s no point in looking back, asking those kinds of questions, or even being angry.

We need to concentrate on stepping forward and on making sure our promises to those that we work with get fulfilled, or as close to as possible.

After a few hours with our heads down, meticulously working, it’s time to break for lunch. We leave the conference room, and I make my way to the elevator banks, eager for a breath of fresh air and to drown the noise with the outside world, where other problems and money aren’t my own.

The elevator doors slide open, and my eyes meet the man with who I was in the elevator a few brief hours ago. Or was that a lifetime? Great. Once again, Jack’s creepy vibe and smile greet me in the elevator.

“Ah, so we meet again.” He smiles.

“It appears so.” I step inside and stand beside him.

“And how has your day been?” he asks, making customary small talk.

“It’s been better, but it is what it is. How is your day?” I ask.

“Better now, twice in one day.” He elbows me playfully as I roll my eyes, thankful that he can’t see the action. “Lunch?”

“Yeah, needing a reprieve from the workday.”

“Care to join me? I was going to have lunch around the corner by myself, but I would love some company.”

“On any other day, I would. But I want to be by myself. It’s been a rough day so far, and it’s nowhere close to being over.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Rain check then.”

“Rain check,” I repeat, hoping that he won’t take me up on it.

I get the ‘creep vibe’ off of him. This morning, he was a little too charming, and just now, he’s a little creepy.

The doors open, and he motions for me to exit first. I step out and begin walking away, and he steps in line beside me.

“You sure that I cannot change your mind?” he asks, his hand on my elbow, stopping me.

My eyes follow his hand, then I look up at him, shaking my head. “I’m sure. Have a nice lunch.” I pull my arm away and walk in the opposite direction.

My ass is going to look utterly fantastic.

I think I will take the stairs moving forward.