Insipid (7 page)

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Authors: Christine Brae

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Insipid
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I nod my head in acknowledgment. “Thank you, Mr. Martinez. It was a pleasure working with you.”

More small talk ensues. It’s interesting to see him in action. His charm and easy demeanor have everyone eating out of his hand by the time the meeting is over. More than anything, he comes across as compassionate and considerate. He is respectful of the older executives and seems genuinely excited to be working with all of us. After we all stand up to leave, Leigh commandeers his attention with strict instructions, “Lucas. We’re out of here in ten minutes.”

“Bro, our flight doesn’t leave till five!” He sounds panicked, worried. He lifts his brows and shakes his head, as if trying to deny what Leigh has just said.

“I scheduled another meeting with the lawyers at their office. We’ll proceed to the airport from there. Pack up. We’re heading out.”

Everyone stands around to listen to their conversation, each of us concentrating on his reaction. Lucas glances at me, his eyes attempting to communicate something I don’t register. I’m too caught up in my own misery to help him out with his.
This is going to be our goodbye. He and I in the midst of ten other people who have no clue of the chaos that we have willingly started together.

He remains standing by the doorway as people file out one by one, watching for me, waiting for me. When I reach the point next to him, he leans over discreetly, his voice sad and angry at the same time. “I’ll call you from the airport.”

I mask my face with a veil of professionalism. “Lucas,” I say, “it’s been a pleasure working with you.” I extend my hand to shake his before turning my back and walking away.

By the time I get back to my office after stopping over to update the other team members, he’s gone.

I try to convince myself it’s all for the best. It can never go anywhere. Two weeks of my life shouldn’t be too hard to shake off.

 

 

LEYA AND I
are stuck in a four-hour planning session for the rest of the afternoon. Although I feel sad, I begin to realize that occupying myself would be the best way to cast aside what had happened in the last two weeks. I’m actually excited at the prospect of leaving the office on time today.
Where will I go? Shopping? To the gym?
At exactly four o’clock in the afternoon, the table starts to shake. It’s my phone, vibrating like mad. I turn it over to check out who’s calling.

Lucas.

Leya eyes me suspiciously. “Who is it?”

“No one. Keep going.” I push the phone away from me. “Steve, what were you saying about the graph that you just put up on the screen?”

It rings again. This time, I pick it up and hold it up to my face while watching his name and phone number flash across the screen. I feel like I’m in high school.
Let him go into voicemail. I want to record his voice on my phone.
And he does.

The third time it rings, Leya’s evil eyes look irritated. “Someone is obviously trying to reach you. Go ahead and take it.”

I roll off my chair, grab the phone and mouth an “Excuse me” to the rest of the group while walking out the door, ducking into an empty cubicle adjacent to the meeting room.

“Jade Richmond.”

“Hi.”

I close my eyes, willing the passage of time to stop here and now. “Hi.”

“I’m boarding soon. I promised I would call.”

“You didn’t have to. I know you were probably trying to get to your meeting.”

“We didn’t have a meeting. Fucking asshole just wanted to get me away from you, I think.”

“Seriously?” I glance from side to side to make sure that no one is listening to me.

“Yes. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me while I was there. I think our trip was a success.”

“Glad to be of assistance.”

“I’ll call you from my destination, ok?”

“Okay. Safe travels.”

“Take care, Jade. Talk to you soon.”

I check his voicemail message hurriedly, like a child tearing open a present whose content, although known, is the one thing he’s been waiting for all his life. Somehow, I’ve immortalized his voice in a little metal box to remind me that he was here with me once.

“Hi, Jade. It’s Lucas. Just wanted to let you know that I’m at the airport. I’ll call you as soon as I arrive home.”

I listen to it twice before deciding that I’m being absurd.

I never make it back to the meeting. I sit in my office in a daze, wondering what had really happened in the past two weeks. So many people have breezed in and out of my professional career, and Lucas certainly isn’t the first attractive man I’ve worked with. I don’t have a clue as to why this feels different, why he affects me this way. All I know is that I want him to be the one to change my life.

 

 

LIFE GOES ON.
Meetings, late nights, travel. The season changes from summer to fall. Warm breezes are replaced with cool, crisp winds blowing leaves all around the city. With the season’s transformation, he is right here with me. His calls and texts are a constant; a call at least once a day, sometimes two or three texts at a time. Funny ones, simple ones, ones just to let me know that he’s around… as if he wants to assure me that I’m not forgotten. We never discuss many personal things, mostly small talk about anything and everything.

 

007:
Hi. I just arrived in Buenos Aires.

 

MP:
Have a fun Brazilian weekend.

 

007:
What?

 

MP:
Brazil. Have fun.

 

007:
Buenos Aires is in Argentina!

 

MP:
Oh. Oops.

 

It takes him a few weeks to send me a work related email. The guilt of what we’ve done hits home as soon as I see his name surface on the notification box. It feels like a careless intrusion into my professional life, threatening to burst out in the open and eventually take us both down.

 

 

From:
Lucas Martinez

Sent:
Monday, October 21, 2013 1:58 AM

To:
[email protected]

Subject:
Follow up on Open Items

 

Dear Jade,

 

I hope that this email finds you well. This is to confirm that the following items remain open until further notice of completion from you:

—signed document related to the net valuation of securities as of planned purchase date

—schedule of liabilities to be settled at purchase date

 

MT Media expects to be able to return back with a response as soon as we receive the final figures from you.

 

Thank you and warm regards,

Lucas Martinez

 

 

I’m not even done reading the email when a text message comes through from him.

 

007:
Hi. Sorry about that email. I know it sounds so formal.

 

 

From:
Jade Richmond

Sent:
Monday, October 21, 2014 8:58 AM

To:
[email protected]

Subject:
Follow up on Open Items

 

Dear Lucas,

Thank you for the follow up. Please be informed that we are working on getting you the data that you need as soon as possible.

 

Best regards,

Jade Richmond

 

 

MP:
Hi. I know, it feels weird.

 

007:
I just got your email. I love it. Best regards, ha!

 

MP:
Where are you?

 

007:
I can’t tell you.

 

MP:
Oh, I forgot. Sorry for asking. Wait, no. You told me last week!

 

007:
I know. That was a slip on my part. What does your week look like?

 

MP:
I can’t tell you.

 

007:
I should have known that was coming. :)

 

 

ONE MONTH HAS
passed since he left. Due to the time difference, his texts arrive sporadically, but always around a certain time of day. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to them.

 

007:
Ms. Richmond, are you there?

 

MP:
Yes, Hi.

 

007:
Can I call you?

 

MP:
When?

 

007:
Now.

 

MP:
LOL. In meeting. Give me five minutes to get out of it.

 

I walk out of any meeting to take his call. It doesn’t matter who it’s with—clients, peers, staff—he’s suddenly my first priority. Sometimes I block my calendar in the afternoons, knowing that he will be calling. Our conversations are short, always about little things, never about anything of substance. Perfect. I’ve decided that I’m addicted to his voice more than anything. It doesn’t matter what we talk about, I listen, I laugh, I tell him about my day. We never mention the merger. As far as we’re concerned, things are happening around us, but we’re no longer involved since the final report had been issued.

 

 

007:
Stopped by a temple while here in Thailand. The monk tells me I need to use my heart more instead of my head.

 

MP:
Did you tell him you didn’t have a heart?

 

007:
Very funny. I told him to go fuck himself.

 

MP:
You did not.

 

007:
:)

 

MP:
Oh my God. You did.

 

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