Lust (6 page)

Samantha was dazing as I spoke. She feared losing me as
much as I did her. I had taught her so much, we were a team,
and she wouldn’t stay if I was gone.

“Sam, are you listening? I’m talking to you. Please listen.

Regardless of what you hear or what they tell you, you remain
the picture of perfection, strong, and professional. Do. You.

Understand?”

Samantha spoke like she had laryngitis. I could barely hear
what she was saying. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got this, and you know I
do. Don’t worry. And, I know it will be fine because I will it to
be! Your meeting notes are prepped and on my desk whenever
you are ready to go. Janet is covering the reception today; she
confirmed that the MCA execs arrived about five minutes ago.

I will have them brought into conference room four and inform
them that you will arrive in a short while. The second meeting
immediately following will be in conference room five. Ms.

Chase? Is there anything else?”

The first meeting lasted two hours, which was long but
bearable. The second meeting was torture. It went from two to
five. The day just would not end, and five o’clock just couldn’t
get there fast enough.

I need a drink, I thought, or a few drinks, for that matter. I
wasn’t quite sure how many drinks it would take to take the edge
off. At 7:00 p.m. I would know my fate, I would know what was
troubling Pat, and at 7:00 p.m. I would know what this secret
meeting was about. Who was this executive that I had to meet? And
why the hell do I have to meet him? Hmm, OK, now I know that my
mind and my heart are so desperate for answers that I am spinning.

I left Samantha a voice mail as the second meeting was
wrapping up. If it was five o’clock on the dot, and I was not
standing at Samantha’s desk, she was to meet me directly at
Brad’s Bar and Lounge, which, luckily, was around the block
from the office and two blocks away from where the “meeting”

was to be held this evening at seven.

God, that time was haunting me. I just couldn’t fathom
what possible things I was about to hear. I had to make a quick
stop by my office to get my purse, and good thing I did because,
lo and behold, Samantha was still at her desk.

“Didn’t I tell you to meet me at the bar if I wasn’t back by
five sharp? I know you don’t listen to me as a friend, but the
boss side of me expects you to listen!” I rambled sarcastically
as Samantha tried to gather whether or not I was being serious.

Knowing me as a friend/boss as she did, she quickly gave
a witty answer that I should have expected. “The ‘boss’ side of
you would have never told me to meet you at a bar at five sharp!

Because the ‘boss’ side of you knows that I get off at five sharp,
which means I wouldn’t be able to get to the bar until roughly
five fifteen! And, considering all the hype that’s been going
all day since you’ve been gone, I didn’t want to risk missing
any intel if I left early. Aaand, had I left early, I wouldn’t have
watched Mr. Watson leave with a certain gentleman whom I
believe to be the so-called executive that you are supposed to be
meeting with! Now I will quietly await your apology, oh glorious
boss of mine.” Pleased with her rebuttal, Samantha smirked
as she stared, watching me gather my words.

“I…I’ve got nothin’. You made your point, and very well
done, if I do say so myself! I’ve taught you well. Now, let’s jet so
you can fill me in. There are too many eyes and ears around that
may not need to know all that exists in that wonderful little
mind of yours. Let me get my purse.” Giving each other an
agreeable and tasked smile, we quickly gathered our things, I
locked my door, and we more or less jogged out of the building.

As we stepped out the glass doors on the side of the building,
which was closest to the street the bar was on, Samantha
paused. “Eva, would it freak you out or throw you over the cliff
if I admitted that I am really worried about what’s happening?

I mean, I can’t be sure, but the uncertainty is causing the brain
to overreact and…I’m sorry. I’m about to combust.”

Putting her hands on her knees and bending at the waist,
Samantha took deep breaths to stop herself from hyperventilating.

She was playing out the “What ifs,” and she was understanding
that we could not, under any circumstance, lose each
other, and she couldn’t imagine what would happen to me if
I was to be let go from this company. “This is your life—this
work, everything you’ve done for this company. It would make
no sense. The value you have is irreplaceable. This world you’ve
made can’t be made somewhere else, and I’m part of that world.

It can’t be torn apart. I can’t do—”

“Sam, get a hold of yourself! Would you please stop and look
at me? Do I look frazzled to you, or concerned, or torn apart?

I will—we will—all get through this, whatever it is. The only
thing that cannot be fixed is death, and I don’t think that they
would invite me to such a public and well lit place to whack me.”

Forcing a smile, I pulled Samantha into me for a strong
embrace. Samantha immediately hugged me back.

“Now, are we going to keep wasting time on this sidewalk
with no libations or are we going to sit our asses down inside
that bar and drink enough to be numb and go over what happened
today so we can half-logically try to understand or piece
together what is going on? It’s your choice. But if you decide
to stay here, I’m giving you fair warning that I will be in there
drinking my ass off By. My. Self!”

“OK, OK. I’d rather we did this with alcohol. Ev, I am
sorry for losing it. Let’s go. Just one question…”

Interested, I indulged her. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Why are we only striving to half-logically understand
what’s going on? Not that that is even a word, but don’t we
want to get to the full truth of all of this?” Half smiling and
half confused, she waited.

“Seriously,” I countered, “has there ever been a time in your
life that you’ve drunk to the point of numbness and yet were
still able to think logically? I’m not waiting for an answer because
I know the answer, and the answer is no. So, because we
most likely won’t be able to logically explain even a quarter of
it, I thought I’d shoot for fifty percent. See, I was actually setting
positive expectations!”

And there I was, half business and half friend, putting
a smile and a solution together in one instant without even
so much as a drop of sweat or worry on my brow, keeping
Samantha calm. Taking Samantha’s arm, down the block we
went, six doors down and into Brad’s Bar and Lounge.

Luckily, the bar wasn’t booming at five fifteen on a Monday
afternoon, so we had our choice of seats. We both decided we
would sit at the end of the bar facing the street. This way, we
could talk and see who came through the door.

“Hello, my lovelies. Must be a special occasion to get both
of you here at this early a time, this early in the week.”

On point, I responded with no hesitation, “Hey, Chris,
what’s doing? Ugh, I have a meeting I have to attend at seven
down the block, so I have to kill some time. And of course my
trusty girl here couldn’t let me sit cooped up in my office alone
for the next two hours. So we figured two hours here would go
by much faster and much more pleasantly.” Smiling, I ordered
for both Samantha and myself. “So that we don’t waste any time
or alcohol, two Long Island iced teas, sub the Chambord for the
Coke please. Thanks, love!”

“Are you ever just going to order a raspberry Long Island
iced tea?” said Chris. “It really is much easier to spit out.”

All three of us were laughing now. “I just like to say
Chambord. How many reasons can you think of where there
would be a need to say that word? I have this one specific reason,
which is my fave drink, so I shall continue to say it because
it pleases me!”

“Ask and you shall receive, my dear. I’ll be back in a sec.”

I enjoyed playful banter, I was good at it, and it took my
mind off all of the swirling noise in my head.

Turning to face Samantha, I realized that she was sitting
there absolutely silent, with her hands clasped together in her
lap and a look of utter sorrow across her pale, sweet face.

“Sorry, you know joking and sarcasm is my coping mechanism.

So, let’s start. What happened after I left? And please, do
me the favor of not sparing me. I’d rather get hit in the head by
you than by them.” Waiting anxiously, I braced myself to hear
everything Samantha had heard through the rumor mill at the
office as well as the goings-on she witnessed.

“So, the staff knew absolutely nothing, which is beyond
odd. All they could report were the same things I saw with my
own eyes, except for this morning’s arrival. Since we got in late,
we missed the so called “Executive” when he arrived at eight
thirty this morning. Janet was instructed to call Mr. Watson
the second he got there and not a minute later. And she did.”

“OK. Keep going. So then what? Did he come alone? Was
he accompanied by anyone? Did he bring anything with him?”

“If you want me to tell you, you have to actually let me speak!

Makes sense, doesn’t it? OK, so, Mr. Watson was at the front
almost immediately and called the man in himself. And that
was the last anyone saw of either of them all day. Mr. Watson’s
PA said that she couldn’t even hear anything through his office
door like usual. But she did confirm that Watson, Kelly, and the
‘Executive’ were in there together for almost half the day. And
they were alone until you left for your twelve o’clock meeting.

That is when the shit really started to get weird.”

As her words trailed off, and totally on point, Chris, the
bartender and longtime friend, arrived with our drinks.

“Ah, just in time. Please, Chris, as soon as you see the glasses
halfway through, prep two more. Oh, and you can continue
that routine until we say stop, which by the looks of things,
won’t be until six fifty. Thanks, love.” I turned to Samantha and
said, “OK, go on. What happened after I left?”

Samantha took a long, long, sip from her drink and breathed
deep before she started up again. “OK. About ten minutes after
you left, I got a call from Janet, and she said, ‘Hey, grab some
mail and bring it out to me,” and then she hung up. At first I
didn’t catch on, but when I repeated her words, I thought, Duh,
grab some mail and bring it out to Janet. So, I grabbed a few envelopes
and headed to reception, where I literally stopped dead
in my tracks. Standing in the lobby were thirteen attorneys
waiting to see the three musketeers in Watson’s office. Thirteen
lawyers. Seriously, what the fuck was going on? They told
Janet nothing, just that they had a meeting scheduled with
Mr. Watson and Mr. Mason. So now we know the fucker’s last
name at least! When Janet went through Watson’s schedule,
she found nothing, so she called him. And again he ran out to
reception like a bat out of hell and called them in. They were
there until about four thirty. Watson and Mason didn’t emerge
until a few minutes before you returned. As they passed your
office, they both hurried past. I didn’t even get a look at him
except to notice that he’s tall, with a muscular build, and has
got great hair. Other than that…nothing. I got nothin’.”

“And then, what else? Did you see Kelly? Her assistant?

Anything else?”

“No, that’s it. Like I said, no one knew or heard anything;
it was like the mother ship for the CIA was based out of our office
today. Everyone was closed off, and all lips were sealed. I’ve
never seen anything like it. So, what do you think?”