Business Solution, Part 4 (Final Installment)

“Thanks for seeing me home,” she said as she let Robert help her out of the cab.

“Trust me, it’s out of my own selfish desires,” he fired back with another one of his knee-weakening grins.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Because if I walk you to your door, I get the chance to kiss you good night.”

There was something charming about his devil-may-care attitude. It wasn't like so many of the other men she’d met, where their confidence was overbearing. Robert’s was off-the-cuff, relaxed, and he acted as if he didn't care if his lines worked on her or not.

They’d made it to the apartment building’s stoop, and she was aware of his warmth, his shape pressed in beside her on the narrow concrete step. He was watching her carefully, and she tilted up her face just a little so she could meet his gaze.

She decided to play the game. “Who says I’m going to let you kiss me good night?”

“You just did,” he answered softly, and met her lips with his own.

When he finally pulled back, Janelle understood what it meant when those romance authors she loved to read described fireworks shooting through the bloodstream. “Wow,” she whispered.

Robert shook his head a little and dropped his hands from her face. She had no idea when he’d reached for her, but she really didn't care.

He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the waiting cab. “I—uh—I should go.”

Part of her wanted to ask him to stay. But the rational part of her brain was reminding her that they were both so close to the freedom they craved. It seemed foolish to jump into something right now—whatever that something may be—when she could be getting a new job, and he went on to...whatever it was he was planning.

But the sight of him standing down on the sidewalk, looking up at her like she’d always dreamed a man would look at her, still had her asking, “Do you want to—”

“Yes,” he answered automatically. He took a small step forward, but stopped. “But I really shouldn't.”

“No?”

He sighed deeply. “If I did, you wouldn't get to your interview on time, I’d lose track of everything, and I know that’s not what you want.”

She gave a tremulous smile. “Not meant to be, huh?”

“Not tonight.”

“Can I call you?”

His voice was husky. “Please.”

They traded numbers, and he looked back one final time before getting back to the waiting cab. Janelle let herself into the apartment, and tried to ignore its emptiness. It would be okay. Right now, not getting involved with Robert was for the best.

* * *

I cannot believe that I fucked up so badly, Robert mentally berated himself for the billionth time in the last few hours.

He’d gotten swamped with work, and hadn't been able to call Janelle as soon as he’d wanted. When he finally had, he’d been thrilled to hear that she’d gotten the job. Unfortunately, their celebratory dinner date had to be cancelled due to his father’s unexpected need to review the notes on Robert’s final project. And their reschedule dinner date got put off because her new job whisked her away for a week to a conference or something. It seemed like fate had decreed her off limits.

At least his desperate attempts to meet her had distracted him from the disheartening task of cutting off ties to his father. The old man had tried to play his cards, coax Robert into more indentured servitude, but he’d held firm. And now he was finally where he’d wanted to be for nearly a year: the corner office of Literate Solutions, his baby and the one good thing he had going in his life at the moment.

“Good to see you back, Robert!”

Robert greeted Don Magley with a hug. He’d coaxed his old tutor out of retirement to help him with the business, and he’d always be in the man’s debt.

“How’s it been going?”

“We got a bunch of new hires started,” Don began as they strode through the offices, “and I’d say they’re working out just fine.” He shot Robert a bemused glance. “Ever get a hold of your mystery girl?”

“Not yet. But I will.”

The optimism wasn't feigned. It couldn't be in a place like this. Robert watched the variety of work spaces, the open interchange of ideas between colleagues, and the light atmosphere in amazement.

Don chuckled. “Hard to believe it’s real?”

“Remember when you told me that I’d pass my GED, and I told you you were—”

“Full of shit? Yes, I seem to recall that conversation.”

“But I did pass. And every time I came back to you, you always told me the same thing: don’t give up on a good thing.”

Don slapped Robert’s back and gave a bark of laughter. “I’m not Yoda, young Jedi. You deserve some of the credit for putting this scheme into action.”

Robert shook his head, and tried to refocus. It was hard when he saw his dream as a reality, but it would be necessary if he were to start stepping into the day-to-day running of the company. “What are we working on today?”

“Last week’s conference was enlightening,” Don shared as he led Robert toward the conference room. “Tons of new ideas from it, and we've got a real firestarter who should help keep us on the cutting edge.”

“Can’t wait to meet him.”

“Her, actually. We were damn lucky to get her, too.”

Don opened the doors to the room, and Robert stepped in, excited to meet the new employee. And the sight before him froze him in his tracks.

“Robert?” Janelle asked, clearly stunned. “What are you doing here?” She was holding the clicker in her hand, and already had her presentation up on the board. But he’d always known she was good at her job.

Don was standing by the door, a gently quizzical expression on his face. Robert turned to him. “We’ll do this later, okay, Don? I need to take your advice again.”

Understanding crossed Don’s face and he closed the door softly behind him.

Robert turned back to Janelle. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She still looked confused.

“So you work here?”

“Yes. How did you—”

“Trust me, I couldn't have planned this.” He stepped closer. “Tell you what...let’s have you present this after we go to lunch.”

“Present...” Comprehension dawned. “Oh, my God, I’m that girl. I’m screwing my boss.”

He extracted her clicker and set it down on the table, then took her hand and led her toward the door. “Not yet. Currently you’re just dating your boss. We’ll see what happens about the other later.”

She snorted. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think?”

“I hope so.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because it means you've got a plan of how we’re supposed to go. And if I’m in the plan, that’s all that matters.”

They’d made to the elevator and she was still holding his hand. The door opened, but in a split-second of doubt, he turned to her. “I am in the plan, right?”

She squeezed his hand and stepped into the elevator. “Let’s go, Mr. Jones. Maybe after work I’ll let you walk me home.”

And he did.

THE END

Business Solutions, Part 3

“Wow. This is totally different than I’d imagined.”

Robert looked up from his fries and gave her a lopsided grin. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“Good, I think.”

The restaurant was definitely not what she’d imagined Richard Jones’s son taking her to. Instead of a stuffy formal environment, he took her to Cinematic Burgers. It was a hole-in-the-wall restaurant where the burgers were huge, fries fresh, and clientele migrated regularly from table to table to watch the assorted films that were playing on nearly fifty different TVs throughout the restaurant.

They’d sat down at a table that was playing Katherine Hepburn’s Pride and Prejudice, and the few people who stopped by to watch in quickly changed to other, more exciting tables. Janelle didn't mind. She loved the movie, didn't mind the lack of company, and was finding herself more and more fascinated by the man sitting across from her.

“So, this new company you’re gunning for—”

She smiled at him. “Can we just not talk about work right now?”

He wiped his fingers off on a napkin, looking a little nervous. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

She dipped another fry in ketchup and took him in. Her mind instantly went back to the Christmas party, and to her everlasting horror, she was suddenly asking, “If I hadn't freaked out, would you have kissed me at the party?”

He choked a little on his soda.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking back toward the TV, feeling her cheeks flush.

“Don’t be. I just—Sorry. It was just a surprise.” He looked around the restaurant, then leaned across the table toward her.

“And the answer is yes. I would have kissed you.”

She sneaked a peek at him from the corner of her eye. He looked so adorably genuine, his expression earnest, his hands pressed down on the table. “You would?”

“Definitely. And it probably would have been one of the stupidest things I could have done.”

* * *

He had her full attention now. She was looking at him, and she seemed genuinely curious.

“Why would it have been stupid?”

“Because my father could have seen.”

“So?”

“He has a habit of destroying things I care about.”

“You thought he’d take it out on me?”

He tried not to swell with pride when he heard the disbelief in her tone. Like she couldn't believe a man was actually standing up for her. Clark Kent, that’s me.

“I don’t know if he would have.”

She shook her head. “He’s...”

He gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Okay, I won’t lie. He’s a bastard, but I can’t believe he’s really that bad.”

He shrugged. “You may not see him that way, but I’m only going off of personal experience.”

“What did he do that was so awful?”

It would be crazy to tell her. But for some reason, the words were already flowing out of his mouth, even when he wished he could shut himself up. “When he divorced my mom, his lawyers made sure she didn't get anything. A few months later, we found out she had cancer. The treatments were expensive. I dropped out of high school, but I couldn't cover the costs. I went to him for help.”

“He knew I was good with computers, so he made a deal. I would provide his company with new tech products and services, and he’d pay off the hospital bill each month.”

Her face showed shock, her tone even more so. “He wouldn't just pay off the amount? Is that trade even legal?”

“Nope, and probably not. He wouldn't pay a lump sum because he claimed I might try to get out of the deal. But I was young and stupid and desperate and signed the papers.” He shrugged. “Regardless, in two weeks, the final bill gets paid, and I’m free of the devil.”

“How’s your mom doing?”

She said it so softy, he almost didn't catch it. But the fact that that was her main concern touched him deeply. “Remission for over eight years now. We caught it early and I made sure that we went to the best doctors. If I was going to sell my soul, I wanted my money’s worth.”

“So, in two weeks, you’ll be out of a job too?”

“Sort of.”

“Do you have anything planned?”

He couldn't help smiling at the thought of what awaited him once these last torturous weeks were done. “I've been working on a few things. Nothing he could take from, either. I made sure to play my cards right this time.”

“I don’t know how you’re still standing,” she admitted. “It seems like an awful lot to give up.”

“Worth the cost.”

“So when you asked if I was going somewhere better—”

He shifted in his seat. It was hard to explain what had really been running through his head. “I wanted to know that you weren't getting screwed in an attempt to escape my father’s clutches.”

“I can promise I’m not.” Her smile really did light up the room, but it dimmed when she glanced down at her watch. “I’m sorry, Robert, but I've got an interview tomorrow morning and I should be getting home—”

“Let me take you,” he offered, already standing.

“It’s not that far,” she protested. “I can catch a cab.”

“I insist,” he said, bussing their table with a casual familiarity that tugged at her heart. He really wasn't what she’d been expecting. And that was nicer than she cared to admit.

Business Solutions, Part 2

What the hell is wrong with me? Robert asked himself again as he listened to his father drone on about the company’s progress. Why did I ask her all those questions?

Replaying his awkward conversation with Janelle was painful. He’d never been good with women, and even he knew the importance of having some tact. But her news had blindsided him and left him scrambling for answers.

He didn't

want her to go.

He hated coming here to Jones & Co., but it was a necessary evil and he’d resigned himself to his fate. One day he’d walked in, greeting everyone as he always did — an easy way of delaying the inevitable conflict with his father — and he’d seen her.

A new young woman, diligently working on her computer. The stack of books on the corner of her desk had been ridiculously intimidating, but the focus on her face was too intriguing to resist. He’d gone over and introduced himself by asking, “Do you get a lot of time to read on this job?”

She’d jumped a little and immediately reached out to grab the stack and move it out of sight. “I’m sorry,” she’d said. “I just got out of class and didn't have time to drop them off before coming here.”

Her pretty brown eyes had taken him in, and she’d asked, “Who are you?”

“Robert Jones.”

“Related to Mr. Jones?”

“He’s my father.”

They’d chatted briefly, until his father came out to harp on her for talking instead of working, and to remind Robert of his duty. He’d fought with his father that day, told him off for treating a new hire that way. Richard Jones had been too surprised by his son’s vehemence to really respond at the time, although Robert’s next visit had been particularly unpleasant thanks to his heroism.

Since that first meeting, Robert had looked forward to seeing her. She was so different from the other employees; she had fire, and he appreciated that, even if his father didn't. He hated the thought that he wouldn't see her again.

He threw a furtive glance at his watch. She was leaving in half an hour. How much longer could his father drone on?

“Are you even listening to me?”

He looked up. “Yes.”

“For Chrissake, pull your head out of your ass. We have a board meeting in a week, and you still haven’t come up with the final project.”

Robert fought down his anger. This is worth it, he promised himself. You’re almost done, and everything will be okay in two more weeks.

Calm, refocused, he nodded. “I’ll have it ready for you to present by the meeting.”

“You’d better.”

And his father was quizzing him again for information about the newest product launch. Thirty-two minutes later, Robert hurried from his father’s office, already scanning for Janelle. But her desk was cleaned out, her computer off, paperwork stacked neatly for the temp.

“Tim?”

The night custodian looked up and gave Robert a smile. “Need something, Mr. Jones?”

“Have you seen Miss Rosen? I wanted to talk to her before she left.”

Tim shook his head sadly. “Gonna miss that girl. She was heading to the elevator with her box. She parks on the third level of the garage.”

“Thanks!”

Robert hurried away. The elevator’s lights were lit up like a Christmas tree; there’d be lots of stops before reaching the parking garage’s causeway. But no one ever took the stairs. He’d never been the most athletic guy, but he worked out. Sometimes. Stairs wouldn't be a problem.

*             *             *

Ten flights down, he realized this had probably been a bad idea. His knees were wobbly, and he knew he was sweating. But he might catch her before she left –

God, if I reach her in time, I swear I will do more squats at the gym. I’ll do more cardio. I’ll stop ordering take-out, he bargained as he barreled down two more flights. One more and he’d be at the causeway.

He staggered through the door and paused long enough to rest his hands on his knees, sucking in huge gulps of air. It always looked so easy to pull crap like this when it was up on a screen. Reality: gamers weren't cut out for this shit. A quick glance behind him showed the elevator had already passed the floor.

“Fuck!”

He cranked his head to look toward the garage. And there, just a faint outline, he could see her. Janelle, juggling a box filled with her personal items, headed toward her car.

He ignored the ache in his legs, the burning sensation at his sternum, and sprinted after her. “Janelle!”

She didn't turn around.

He could see her fumbling with her purse, getting out her car keys, putting the box in the trunk. She started toward the driver’s door, and there was so much damn distance between them —

“Janelle!” he bellowed one more time, desperation giving the call the strength it needed.

She turned, a funny look on her face, and waited as he ran up to her, gasping for air. He held up an index finger while he tried to get enough air to talk. She leaned back against her car, a bemused smile on her face as she took him in.

“Did you need something, Mr. Jones?”

He nodded. She waited. Finally, he was able to straighten and ask with only minimal wheezing, “Do you have plans for dinner?”

“What?”

He wasn't about to give up now. He’d made his mind up. All or nothing. “I want to take you to dinner.”

She shifted a little and wouldn't quite look at him. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? You’re not working for my dad anymore. I hate his guts anyway.”

She wasn't convinced, so he kept going.

“And you can’t forget the Christmas party.”

There it was – a slight flush creeping into her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. She may not have been looking at him, but he knew where her mind had gone.

His had gone there over and over for months.

Heading out of the main party toward one of the quieter offices. Breathing a sigh of relief when he was away from the chaos outside. Only to turn and find her there, sitting quietly in a chair, reading some huge book.

She’d gasped when she saw him, nearly spilling her drink.

“Sorry!” he’d apologized.

“I – I just needed –“ She trailed off, looking embarrassed.

“Somewhere quiet? Me too.”

They’d talked for the next hour, and before he knew it, he was sitting across from her on the desk, taking in the way her face tilted up to his when she spoke, the way her eyes lit up with excitement as she talked about her plans for the future. He’d been stupid, short sighted.

But at that moment, leaning forward to kiss her had been the only logical option.

Just like now. Except this time, she didn't pull away. Didn't stammer out an excuse of why they shouldn't. Didn't rush from the room like he’d tried to ravage her at his father’s office party.

This time, she just looked at him nervously, eyes widening just a bit as he placed a gentle hand against the side of her face, curling his fingers around the back of her head, drawing her closer to him. This time, she made the noise he’d imagined she would as their lips met, a soft sigh.

And when he finally pulled back and asked, “Dinner?” again, she just nodded.

Business Solutions, Part 1

“Miss Roser, if you’re finally done typing up that report, I’d like to get it before we close for the day.”

Janelle Rosen grit her teeth and reminded herself to breathe. “Of course, Mr. Jones,” she responded calmly.  A few swift clicks of the mouse, and the report — which he’d requested she proofread a little over an hour ago — was speeding to his inbox through the annals of cyberspace.

No apology was offered for saying her name incorrectly. He didn't thank her. Didn't even acknowledge her hard work. For the millionth time that day, she decided she hated her boss. But a tiny smile spread across her face when she glanced at the time.

Correction: she hated her soon-to-be ex-boss. As of six o’clock tonight, her internship was over, and she’d finally be free of the slimy old man. She’d had no say on her placement; the economy was so depressed, the college had a difficult time finding any placements for its business students. She’d at least been fortunate enough to find a position with a local firm. Some of her classmates were commuting over an hour to their placements.

Nevertheless, it was frustrating to deal with Mr. Jones’s daily doses of cruelty — snide comments, aggressive body language, openly expressed opinions about the lack of worth women provided in the private sector, and so on — but a week ago she’d gotten an interview with a new company. Her second interview, this one with the company’s founder, was tomorrow morning, and she felt confident.

 

Literate Solutions was a small start-up, focused on using immersive technology to provide interactive e-books to adults with reading difficulties. The atmosphere there had been infectious, and she’d quickly learned that all the employees were passionate and dedicated to the company’s cause. She’d be trusted to use her creativity and literature background, and the lure of freedom was powerful.

She tried to push the thoughts of tomorrow from her mind. There were still emails to write up, final paperwork to push through for her temporary replacement, and her desk to clean out. Just the thought of that made her giddy.

The elevator dinged, and the familiar “Evening, Mrs. Mokes” directed at the front receptionist made Janelle’s heart do a funny little flip. He was back.

Every two weeks, Mr. Jones’s son, Robert, stopped by the office. She didn't know if he did it out of a sense of familial obligation or because he had to, but his visits were one of the rare high points of her internship.

She quickly looked back at her computer screen, wishing she didn't react so much to his presence. Ever since they’d almost had a moment at the company Christmas party, she couldn't get him out of her head. Which was bad, since she was leaving and he was the boss’s son.

But the sound of his voice, light and almost playful as he greeted each staff member on his way to his father’s office, was so distracting.

She could see movement from the corner of her eye, and feigned concentration on the task at hand. Not that it mattered.

“Miss Rosen, did you mean to type ‘please’ three times in a row there?”

She mentally grimaced at the mistake, but tried to play it cool as she looked up at him. He was leaning against her desk, his hands stuffed in his pockets, a winning grin on his face. Robert was everything his father was not. Instead of an aged suit, he wore casual wool trousers and an untucked dress shirt with a sweater thrown over it. The white Converse sneakers only added to his air of informality. His light brown hair was just a bit too long for the business world, and she was fairly certain that he had a forearm tattoo, since she’d caught a glimpse of something under his sleeves one day when he’d reached across her desk to take a pencil.

She was so distracted by him that she was amazed to hear herself respond, “I was trying to emphasize my point.”

“I see.” The smile deepened, and fine creases appeared at the corners of his eyes. “You meant to emphasize the importance of making my father’s coffee correctly?”

No way out of this one, genius. “Yes. That’s what I meant.”

Robert shook his head, eyes dancing with mirth. “I know he’s a son of a bitch, but will making his coffee incorrectly really set him off?”

Janelle knew the smart thing would be to avoid the comment entirely and change the topic of conversation to something safe. Like the weather.

Instead, her brain —which had decided it was already done with the internship, clock be damned — shared, “It might. And I want my replacement to be prepared.”

“You’re leaving?”

The change in his tone surprised her. “Yes. My internship ends tomorrow.”

For some reason, Robert’s expression changed. The friendliness was gone, and he pulled his hands from his pockets and set them firmly on her desk, deliberately invading her space as he shifted his weight forward. In that moment, she realized that there was something he and his father shared.

“You can’t leave.” His words brooked no argument.

Shock was her first emotion, followed swiftly by irritation. “Yes, I can,” she said. “I’m leaving in exactly–” — a quick glance at the clock — “–one hour and twenty-two minutes.”

“Why are you leaving?”

She couldn't help it. Robert glared when he heard her snort at his question, but didn't move from the desk.

Still, he was Mr. Jones’s son. She didn't want to insult his family, even if his father deserved it, on the last day she’d ever see him again. So she settled for, “My internship is over.”

“That’s a crappy reason.”

She tilted her head. “Maybe. But it’s true.”

“You could stay if you wanted.”

“I don’t want to stay.”

“Why not?”

Why wasn't he letting this go? “I can’t explain.”

He leaned in a little closer, and she caught a hint of his spicy cologne. “Is it my father?”

Oh, so not going there. She pushed back a little from the desk, unnerved by Robert’s intensity. “I think Mr. Jones is expecting you,” she said in a lame attempt to distract him.

Too bad it didn't work.

“My father’s an ass, but you’re good at this job. Tell me that you’re not just jumping into the first thing you can find so you don’t have to put up with him anymore.”

She realized she was biting down on the inside of her lip and stopped. Self-doubt was not helpful at this point.

“Janelle –” His voice had softened. “You’re leaving for something better, right?”

Literate Solutions seemed perfect for her. And she’d been looking forward to tomorrow’s interview so much...until Robert had walked in and started questioning her. And having him so close was making her feel dull and confused because she didn't want to have to say goodbye to him.

Think of the future. She straightened in her chair and met his concerned gaze. “The job I applied for is one I really like. I think it will be a good fit for me, and I like the company’s attitude toward their consumer base.”

And like that, his concern was gone. Happy, smiling Robert was back. “Good. I’ll drop in on the old man then.”

It wasn't until the office door closed behind him that she was able to let out a shaky exhalation and try to refocus on her final tasks. She erased the repetitions of “please” Robert had pointed out in her email, but as she finished it and clicked send, all she could think about was Robert Jones and his strange reaction to her news.