Gone - Part One (2 page)

"If you ask me, you're making a big mistake."

I grin at my roommate. She's quietly watched me all morning as I've printed out my resume, booked a seat on the train to New York City this afternoon and packed a few essentials into my overnight bag. Roni's been my often unwelcome voice of reason since I rented the extra bedroom in her apartment more than two years ago. You'd think by now that we'd call each other friends. That would be a stretch. I realized within days of moving in that she's notorious for waving her wand of judgment at me whenever she pleases. It's never been a secret that she views me as lacking in almost every substantial way. I've learned to ignore her castigating glances and embrace the helpful parts of her. She pushed me through my studies when I felt like giving up. She's become the personal, southern, drill sergeant that I never knew I needed.

"Lilly, are you listening to me?" She plops herself down on the edge of my bed, skimming her hands over the skirt of the cream colored dress she's wearing.

I glance up briefly, my eyes rushing over her face. "I heard you, Roni."

"You've gone down there at least a dozen times." She turns her attention to the unopened stack of mail I have sitting on the desk next to my bed. "You don't actually expect anyone there will see you without an appointment, do you?"

I don't. I can't exactly blurt that out to Veronica Morel, the only person I know who has her entire life organized to the exact minute. I'm flying by the seat of my pants at this point so I offer the one thing I can that will help ease her mind and halt all her incessant questions. "I met the owner of the company last week."

I watch as the furniture catalogue she's mindlessly leafing through falls from her hands. We both stare in silence as it lands with a dull thud on the hardwood floor.

"You met Clive Parker?"

"Yes," I shoot back. "He came into the bistro last Friday night."

"Clive Parker was at Star Bistro?" Her brows rise. "Why didn't you tell me?"

The honest answer to that question is very simple. I'm still reeling from embarrassment over the entire encounter. "We haven't had much of a chance to talk since then."

She leans down to retrieve the catalogue, thoughtlessly pulling on one of the pages. The sheer weight of it rips the corner and it tumbles once again to the ground. "It's kind of a big deal that he was in the bistro, Lilly."

"I know." I don't add anything to the simple retort. I crouch down, tugging the heavy book into my hands. "I'm going to recycle this unless you want it."

She shakes her head briefly. "So you told him about your ideas?"

The question itself would be laughable if it wasn't so disheartening. I'd been trying to secure a one-on-one meeting with the CEO of Corteck for years and the moment that I do have him alone and all to myself, our entire conversation was focused on the semi-nude picture I sent him and my underwear. The lingering knowledge that he read and possibly re-read my handwritten letter detailing how I like to suck cock only made her question about sharing my ideas that much more ironic. "I didn't have a chance but he does know my name now."

"That's a step in the right direction." I sense that she's staring right at me. "Did he invite you to New York to meet with him?"

"Technically, no," I answer truthfully. "He actually picked up something of mine off the counter and I'm going to get it back."

"What did he pick up?"

I pull the zipper on my overstuffed, overnight bag closed. "It's an envelope. It had his name on it."

"Was it one of those letters with your ideas about what you can do for him?" She steps right into the pool of her own assumption. "Do you think what you wrote inside caught his attention?"

The irony of the question isn't lost on me. "I'm sure it did."

"So why are you going all the way to New York to get it back?"

"I wasn't ready to show it to him yet." Yes, I'm referring to the picture of my breasts, but Roni is none the wiser. "I need to explain it more to him so he understands exactly what I can offer him."

If she had any clue about what I'd shoved into that envelope, she'd realize all the hidden innuendo woven into my calculated responses to her questions. Fortunately, she's too focused on her impending date tonight to care what I'm doing or why I'm really going to New York.

***

"You can't just walk in here and expect Mr. Parker to see you," she says rapidly before her index finger darts into the air. It's a silent command for me to be quiet. It's the third time in the past ten minutes that she's used it on me.

I lean forward on the steel counter trying to divert her attention from her call. I had rehearsed what I wanted to say to Clive over and over again last night before I crawled into bed and closed my eyes in a small hotel room near Penn Station. The incessant noise from the room next to mine had kept me from finding sleep. I'm tired, I'm nervous and I'm trying to ignore the fact that this may well be my last chance to get the dream job that I've been pining for most of my adult life.

"Mr. Parker's assistant will call you on Tuesday at ten." She doesn't wait for a response from the person on the other end of the line before she taps a long, bright red fingernail on the phone's base. "I told you to go. Mr. Parker is not in the office today. I'll take your name and give the message to him."

I've played that game for months.  I've never had a call returned. Clive has never answered even one of the dozens of email messages I've sent to him. "I saw Mr. Parker when he was in Boston last week. If you tell him Lilly is here, I think he'll see me."

It's more wishful thinking than actual concrete belief. I'm gambling by throwing my name at her. I debated whether or not to do it at length last night. Considering how often Clive Parker is in the gossip pages with a new woman wrapped around his arm, he'd either mistake me for another Lilly or he'd struggle to place the name. I'm betting my entire future on either of those.

"I told you, he's not here." She doesn’t shift her eyes from the computer monitor in front of her. "He's out of the office at meetings today."

She wants me to believe her because that's what's expected. I know better though. Three months ago, I had just gotten into a taxi that was pulling into traffic when I saw Clive exit the building. The receptionist then had given me the same song and dance routine. The only difference was that, she, at least, tried to make eye contact with me.

"As I said, I met with Mr. Parker when he was in Boston last week," I pause while I try to search for what I need to say next to get me into his office. "I'm sure he would…"
              "You saw Clive when he was in Boston?" The sound of a woman's voice behind me startles me. I turn to look at her. She's tall, brunette, slim and elegant. The smile on her lips radiates into her eyes. This is the first friendly face I've seen since I started my bi-monthly pilgrimage to New York City and the lobby of this building in lower Manhattan.

"I did." I take a step forward. "I'm Lilly Randall."

"Lilly Randall," she repeats my name back as her hand darts into the air between us. "I know who you are, Lilly Randall."

My hand stalls briefly before I clasp hers tightly. I run my free hand over my forehead trying to chase away all the self-doubt. There's no way she can know about the envelope I sent Parker. It's not a possibility. "You do?"

She nods slowly before her arms cross over her chest. "Come with me. We have a lot to talk about."
 

"I don't know what I was thinking." She hands me a tall glass of water. "I should have introduced myself in the lobby. My name is Rowan Bell. I work closely with Clive."

I take a small drink. In my haste to get down here by nine o'clock sharp I'd neglected my body's need for food and coffee. I feel parched and the cool water is helping to chase that away. Unfortunately, it's doing nothing for my growing anxiety about how Rowan knows my name. "Thank you for this," I offer before I take another large swallow.

She nods sharply as she lowers herself into the chair next to me in front of her desk. "So you saw Clive when he was in Boston?"

I reach forward to place the glass on the desk before I realize that holding it will occupy my hands so that she won't notice how they're shaking. "We met briefly at the coffee shop I work at."

Her eyes scan me from head-to-toe, taking in the plain navy heels I've paired with a pencil skirt of the same shade and a white blouse. I feel underdressed next to her. I'm not a designer label aficionado by any means, but there's no mistaking an expensive woman's suit when it's sitting across from me, with two very long, perfectly toned legs jutting down to a pair of Louboutin heels.

"You're working at a coffee shop?" She leans back slightly in her chair, her back relaxing. "You haven't pursued something else?"

She's not the first person to ask me that question. It's expected given my drive to get my degree. Software development is my passion but settling for an entry level job where I'm tucked into a cubicle to handle coding errors for the foreseeable future is about as appealing as making lattes. I want one job and one job only and until I know with absolute certainty that I'm not getting it, I'm going to keep my eye on that prize. Crafting beverages and serving sandwiches for a living is only a means to an end. The end is within the walls of this office tower.

I take another mouthful of the water before I look directly at her. "My goal is to work in this organization."

She smiles broadly. "I like your determination, Lilly."

I heave a sigh that I try to hold in. I don't want her to see how incredibly tangled up I am inside. I came here with the fleeting hope that I'd get into the office of the illustrious Clive Parker long enough to not only convince him that I'd be an invaluable asset to his business but also to explain away the package I sent his half-brother. In my scattered thoughts this past week, the panties and Polaroid picture would be my excuse to see him. Once that happened, I'd dazzle him with all my ideas for growth in the app division of his company. It's a convoluted plan at best, but when you're working with the mess that I've made of my life, you can't be choosy.

"I'd really like to discuss some of the ideas I have for…" I start before I abruptly stop. "I mean, I'd like to discuss the possibility of a position here. I know I can bring a lot of knowledge and drive."

She runs her index finger over her cheekbone before resting it against her lips. "You don't have to convince me, Lilly. I'm the one who has been reading all your emails and letters. I can see the potential you have. It's just that we're not hiring right now."

I close my eyes as I hold tight to the almost empty glass that is resting between my palms in my lap. It's what I expected. Corteck has been hovering near the top of the list of the fifty best places to work in North America for the past five years. If a person is lucky enough to land a job here, they aren't going anywhere. I know logically that the chances of me getting hired are slim, but this is the only opportunity I'm going to get to sell myself to someone who has the authority to actually consider me for a position.

"I've had your file in my office for more than a year, Lilly." She leans forward in her seat so she can tap the edge of my knee. "I'll keep it handy. If something opens up, I'll give you a call."

She's expecting me to get up, thank her for the hospitality and exit her office with a smile at the promise of a position that will never materialize. "Is there any chance I can see Mr. Parker?"

"Clive?" She throws me a hard smile. "He's very busy, Lilly. He doesn’t handle things like this."

I have absolutely nothing to lose at this point. I can follow the rules and graciously disappear into the crowds of people milling about the streets of Manhattan on this Monday morning, or I can push my luck to its limits. "It's not about this. I need to talk to him about his brother."

Her breathing stalls just as her brow furrows slightly. I can tell that she's trying to regain her composure. "You know Parker?"

I know what Parker's penis looks like. Does that count? "Yes," I offer because it's much easier than trying to explain the sordid details of my unflattering online activity the past few weeks.

"When did you meet Parker?" She runs her index finger over the lapel of her jacket. "You two are close to the same age, aren't you?"

I've always believed that when a person tosses two questions at you back-to-back that you can ignore the first one.  It's as simple rule that's always served me well, including right at this moment. "Parker is two years older than me."

"You never mentioned knowing him in any of your emails." Skepticism edges the words.

"I didn't want…" I stammer. "It's just that I didn’t want any special consideration because of that."

A faint smile pulls at the edges of her lips. "I understand completely," she whispers as she leans forward. "You want to make it on your own."

Sure. That's it. I'm so far into this hole at this point that I'll grasp at anything.

"As I said, I'd like to talk to Mr. Parker about his brother," I repeat to push the point. "It's important."

She nods before reaching towards her desk to pick up her smartphone. "Clive's not in today. I can relay the message to him when I see him tomorrow."
              I sigh heavily. By this time tomorrow, I'll be back at the bistro making some ungrateful customer an overpriced, calorie laden drink with a name that most people can't pronounce correctly. I know that once I walk out of this building, I'll be starting again at square one. "Is there any way I can reach him? I came all the way from Boston."

"Parker's important to you, isn't he?"

No, absolutely not. Parker Jarvis is nothing to me.

I swallow hard. Lying has never come easy to me but this isn't exactly a lie. I shrug my shoulders for exaggerated measure before I answer, "I've shared a lot with Parker."

She stands without warning. Her heels move quickly over the carpeted floor as she rounds her desk. "I didn't realize you knew Parker that well. I know that Clive has been trying hard to build a bond with him. I'm sure he'd want me to give you extra consideration given that you're a close friend of his brother."

I nod. This meeting has careened into something way more personal than it should be at breakneck speed. I should correct her. I need to tell her that I barely know Parker and virtually every interaction I ever had with him was from the comfort of my bedroom, while I typed out messages to him on my laptop. I don't know anything about Parker other than the fact that he probably has a collection or Polaroid pictures of naked women he's never met and that his dick curves a little too much to the left for my taste.

I lick my lips before I open my mouth knowing that I need to say something. I have to stop this before she assumes that Parker and I are hot and heavy. Who am I kidding? I can tell from the overly wide grin on her face that she's already jumped head first into that theory. "I'd like to talk…"

Her finger jolts up into the air in a gesture that mimics the woman at the front reception desk. It has to be part of the employee training. Her thumb scrolls across her smartphone's screen before she brings it to her ear. "Hi, it's Rowan. I need you to put together an employment package for me." She pauses as her fingers tap the edge of desk. "Do it as an entry level two. Lilly Randall is the name."

I sit silently as I listen to her spell out my name letter-by-letter. This can't be real. I didn't just land a position at the company of my dreams because I sent a random guy a picture of my tits. It may not be my first choice for getting my foot in the door, but I'm in and once I prove I have what it takes to Rowan and Clive, everything in that envelope will cease to matter. It has to. The alternative will mean I'll be making mocha lattes until I retire.