Love in the City, an erotic romance novel (5 page)

Anabelle walked into the office the next morning a little bleary-eyed and foggy-brained. She’d had trouble sleeping, wondering when or if Giorgio would call, even though it had only been one day. He was already consuming her thoughts. As a result, she was running late and hadn’t had time to stop for a coffee. Not that she expected him to be there again. She was just longing for a good, strong brew.

Raquel came charging around the corner,
her high platform heels clicking on the warm, honey-colored hardwood floors that were present throughout the Kinetic offices, except for the corner offices and conference rooms. “Good, you’re here. Come with me. We have a big day ahead of us.”

“What’s going on?” Anabelle asked as she followed her. She dropped her bags off at her desk as they passed by. She threw her coat on top of them and hurried after her boss.

The walls of Kinetic were adorned with abstract paintings from local artists. It was one of the ways they supported the community and got the company name in the arts sections of the indie papers when they made a purchase at an art show. Raquel always liked making a big show of things and scoring the photo-ops.

They headed into Raquel’s frosted glass-walled corner office. It was spacious with cream-colored carpeting and accented with large abstract floral paintings. Raquel’s desk was large, sleek and modern and there was a cream-colored leather sofa and two chairs surrounding a circular glass coffee table in the center.
It had a purple orchid in a cream-colored ceramic vase on it. Anabelle dreamed of one day having an impressive office like that. Having high-level client meetings of her own. Calling the shots.

“Take a seat,” Raquel said
, flipping her long, red hair over her shoulder.

Anabelle silently obliged.

Raquel adjusted her silk blouse and handed her a stack of files. “I need you to review these ASAP and pull out what you think are the best jobs of the bunch. Then I need you to do a search for competitor ads. Same thing, pull out the best and provide a brief synopsis of each company and their strategy for comparison purposes.”

She inwardly groaned. “Sure thing,” she said, grabbing the files and doing her best to fake some measure of enthusiasm. “When d
o you need this by?”

“1
p.m. today,” she said, lacing her fingers together.

“Today?”

“Yes, we received a call this morning that a potential client wants to come in to discuss ideas around a new campaign for their business. They’re meeting me here at 2:30 p.m. and I need those files and external ads shortlisted by 1 p.m., so that I can have a chance to review them.”

“That’s pretty short notice. What’s the company?” Anabelle asked.

“Not your concern, at least not until we land this client. It’s a big one, so I don’t want to say anything yet. Hence also the rush. You’d better get started,” Raquel said, as she stood up, clearly signaling for her to leave.

“Right,” Anabelle said, her shoulders hunched over with the weight of the files. Raquel always kept her bigger prospects top secret until the clients came in to meet her.

“Let me know if you finish early,” Raquel called after her. “I won’t be leaving the office today or taking any breaks.”

A not-so-subtle hint for her to do the same or else. “Will do,” Anabelle said, not bothering to turn back. The files were heavy and she was upset. Still not even a thanks.
One day,
she thought,
I won’t be at the mercy of someone like that
. But she knew that day was a long way off from where she was now.

Anabelle set the files down on her desk. She wouldn’t even have time to slip out for a cup of her favorite coffee.
“Guess the office coffee will have to do,” she muttered to herself. She shuddered. It was literally the worst coffee she had ever tasted.

The hours passed by as she pored over the files taking notes, assessing the ads for their overall presence, appeal, and effectiveness for the target audience. She pulled the ones aside that stood out for her and made some quick notes as to why. She then turned to her computer and researched other ads of a similar nature. Bookmarking and printing
the ones she thought stood out.

Finally, she had her shortlist. She had whittled it down from twenty-five to the ten best, out of the dozens of ads she had reviewed. She put them together in a neat folder
and typed up a summary of each, its strengths, some background on the company along with the relevant target market statistics.

Anabelle
sat back, pleased with her work. She had a good eye for these things. She knew she did. She looked at the time. 12:05 p.m. She finished early. Raquel would be pleased. She gathered up her work and brought it to Raquel’s office.

Raquel was just finishing up a phone cal
l, when she waved her in. “Got it…No problem at all, that’s one of our specialties… Wonderful…I look forward to meeting you.” She hung up the phone. “Our 2:30 p.m. meeting is confirmed.”

“
Great. I have the information ready as requested,” she said as she handed the folder to her.

Raquel
put her Fendi reading glasses on and grabbed the folder out of her hand. Without a word, she started flipping through the pages inside. She took her time assessing the file, then snapped it closed. “This will do. Thanks.”

Anabelle nodded and turned to leave.

“Hang on,” Raquel said. “Since you pulled together all of this research and this meeting is on such short notice, I’d like to have you sit in on it in case any questions come up that I need you to answer.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to,” Anabelle, excited at the prospect of being involved in a client proposal. This would be her first time. She wasn’t normally included in such important meetings.

“Don’t get all excited,” Raquel said, pulling her reading glasses down her nose. “I don’t want you to say or do anything in the meeting unless I ask you to. I’m running the meeting and will be the spokesperson for Kinetic Advertising. Just sit by quietly in case I need something from you. Got that?”

“Got it.”

“Good,” she said, pushing her glasses back up. “Now go prep yourself for possible questions if they come up. If they do, I expect quick, professional answers that are on point.”

“Yes, Ms. Sheridan,” Anabelle said, as she took her leave.

“Close the door!”

Anabelle did as she was asked, grumbling to herself about the rude treatment she always got. That wouldn’t be how she’d treat her staff if she ever had her own agency. She’d inspire loyalty by treating people with respect and giving them opportunities to shine. If she ever got there. She sighed, realizing how far away she was from that goal. Businesses cost a fortune to start and her savings account was
rather modest.

Oh well,
she thought,
no way to go but forward
. At least she might learn something in this client meeting. She couldn’t wait to see how Raquel handled a big potential account.

Anabelle went to the kitchen and made herself some noodles in a cup. It was all she had time for. She sat at her cluttered desk, which was in an open area near some tall filing cabinets, with her lunch and stared at her
colorful collection of magazine clippings of international destinations that she had posted to the short wall that surrounded the front of her desk.

She loved the travel magazines
and bought them monthly. She pored over them, clipping out pictures of places she hoped to visit one day: Paris, Vienna, Rome, Venice, Madrid, Amsterdam, Morocco, Greece, Antigua, St. Lucia, and the list went on and on…

Anabelle sat
quietly with her earphones plugged in, listening to some relaxing Caribbean music. It always lifted her spirits and made her feel happy and light. She ate her noodles while gazing at her pictures, dreaming of exotic escapes.

Her reveries were short-lived. Raquel came up to her desk. Anabelle took out her earphones. “Yes?”

“I just called the caterer and they won’t be able to make a delivery to us on such short notice. I need some things for our meeting this afternoon.”

“Ok
ay?” Anabelle said.

“I want you to go to the Piccadilly Bakery and pick up
an assortment of baked goods, some bottles of San Pellegrino and a carafe of coffee.”

Anabelle looked at the clock. It was 12:40
p.m. “Me? I-uh…” she wasn’t too happy about being deemed the office gopher.

“I’d hurry if I were you. They get pretty busy over there.”

Anabelle looked down at her almost finished noodles and sighed. “Sure thing.”

“Use your own credit card, you can expense it later,” Raquel said as she turned to walk away.

“Can I get a cab back? That’s going to be a lot to carry.”

Raquel turned and gave her an annoyed look. “I suppose so. Just hurry.”

Anabelle nodded. She wolfed the last two spoonfuls of noodles down and grabbed her purse. She changed into her running shoes.

She raced the five blocks over to the bakery. Sure enough, it was lined up. She waited in line, looking at her watch every two minutes. The lined moved slowly. It was a busy day for the area’s favorite bakeshop. She knew
Piccadilly’s was well worth the wait, but time was speeding by. Twenty minutes later she made it to the front of the line and placed her order.

“That’s going to be a fifteen minute wait. We just ran out of coffee and are brewing a new batch.”

“Uh, okay,” she said, again looking at her watch. It was almost 1:15 p.m. already.

“Next!” the woman at the counter yelled.

Anabelle shuffled over to the side to wait. She fixed her makeup up a bit while she waited. She hoped she’d be able to track down a cab. They could be hard to come by. It was all timing.

Finally, they called her order. “Thanks,” she said as she paid the bill. “A receipt please.” She took the receipt, then piled the items in her arms. It was going to be tricky hailing a cab with an armful of goods. She prayed she’d have some luck.

She stood out on the sidewalk in front of the bakery watching for a cab. One rounded the corner, heading her way. She dashed out between two parked cars to wave him down. No luck. He sped past her with two people in the backseat. A couple of minutes later, another cab. Another dash to hail him. Again, no luck. He didn’t even look her way. She sighed and went back to the sidewalk. Her load was growing heavy. Two more cabs, two more strikes out. She was starting to panic and was feeling sweaty from holding the items that were growing heavier by the minute. She spotted another cab. This time she was determined to stop him. She darted out in between the cars and stepped into the lane.

The cab driver slammed on the brakes and started yelling at her. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“I really need a ride,” she groaned as she shifted the items in her arms. “This stuff is heavy and my boss is waiting for them for an important meeting. If I don’t get there on time, I’ll be fired. Homeless!” She was going to work it.

The cab driver rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard it all. I’m sorry, but I’m on another call.”

“Where?” she asked, her desperation growing.

He told her the address.

“Perfect, my office is on the way. I’ll give you a big tip if you drop me off,” she said, giving her best sweet smile.

“Oh,
alright. You’ve got spunk. That’s got to count for something. Get in.”

“Thanks,” she said as she set some items on top of the cab so she could open the door. She loaded her items in and sat down
, closing the door.

The cab driver sped off towards her office.

She picked up her phone and called the main line. The receptionist picked up. “Jennifer? Hi, it’s Anabelle. Can you meet me out front? I’ve got an armload of stuff and I could use some help with the doors.” She explained what Raquel had asked her to do.

“I can’t believe she sent
you to get all that stuff alone,” Jennifer replied. “What a jerk!”

“I know. See you in a few minutes?
…Thanks.”

“Tough day?” the cab driver asked.

“Yup, just like every other day.”

“Tell me about it,” he said. A couple of minutes later they reached
her destination.

“Thanks a bunch,” Anabelle said as she paid him and left a generous tip.

“You bet,” he said, as she unloaded her boxes. He drove away.

She looked up the stairs leading to her office. Jennifer was there waiting. She waved and headed down the stairs to help with the boxes.

“Thanks, my arms are killing me, it took forever to get a cab.”

“I’m still choked she made you do this by yourself,” Jennifer said as they headed into the office.
She sported a chin-length light brown bob, was 5’2”, and a little on the heavy side. She was twenty years old, with a handful of college classes under her belt. She was taking night classes as she could afford them to continue her business education.

“Yeah, I think I’ve just
been demoted to office lackey.”