How to Bake the Perfect Apple Pie (16 page)

Since I hadn’t been making my scheduled trips, I had managed to save on the airfare and my regular savings account was beginning to flush out again. So I agreed to the trip. I only told Jack about it on Wednesday after I found out that my family wouldn’t be picking me up. He seemed surprised that I was coming and it was almost as if he had plans or something. He stopped me from saying I could take a cab or ask an old friend to pick me up.

Internally, I’ve been struggling with the idea of my relationship with Jack. I love him more than anything, but I can’t get past the fact that he won’t set a date. It’s just a number on a calendar—what more significance is it to him than when he actually proposed to me? I would have thought the actual act of proposing would have been more defining than setting a date, yet here we are almost six months later and nothing.

Being at the lake at Pearl Inn was enlightening… Jack opened up that he didn’t want me to see him fail. Which I understand…but I don’t understand him not wanting to share things with me. We should be talking about our future and planning it together. Instead, he is acting like I’m to sit sidesaddle while he has the reins. I swallow. We need to figure things out this weekend. I can’t continue on any further this way. We must set a date, whether he has his new firm location sorted or not.

I roll my eyes. I’ve got other numbers to deal with right now. Ever since the visit at the inn my team’s great numbers have been drifting into a not great zone. Especially Trent’s, which is why I am having a one-to-one with him in the next few minutes. A knock on my door breaks up my internal thoughts. I stand up and tug on my skirt. I chose this outfit because I knew I would be seeing Jack. A light blue buttoned-down blouse with pockets on the sleeves paired with a black skirt and matching blazer.

I open the door. Trent is standing at full attention and staring at me. His dark eyes are somber and a shade of grey. The bags underneath speak of nights of very little sleep. This is not the same guy I hired to be on my team several months ago. He is like a deflated Clark Kent…as if he has had one too many rounds with kryptonite.

“Hey Trent, come on in.” I close the door behind him and his shoulders slump as he takes a seat.

I round the corner of my desk and sit across from him. My eyes glance over the reports. The ones I prepared, not ones he has happily brought me.

“Are you okay, Trent? You seem…off.” I study his face.

“I’m fine.” Trent runs his hand through his hair, shifts in his seat, and straightens up.

“Okay, so we need to talk about—”

“Why didn’t you say you were engaged?” Trent laces his hands together and rests his head on his fingers.

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” I raise my eyebrows in question.

“Sorry? You could have told me. It was obvious that I was interested in you.” Trent pops his neck.

“Trent, listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I called this meeting to talk about your numbers, which are not good.” I press my lips together.

Trent rolls his eyes. “Of course they’re not good. How was I supposed to keep up with those numbers when it turns out you’re engaged?” He jerks his head back in disgust.

“Okay, like I said, I called this meeting to talk about your numbers. My relationship status is not up for discussion, okay?” I tap the report with my red pen.

“Gosh, Lauren, I’m sorry. You’re right. I need to get my emotions in order. I guess I was just surprised to hear that you were engaged…”

“Trent, my engagement isn’t a secret,” I snap. I’ve had enough. “I’ve been wearing this engagement ring since the first moment you stepped into my office, when I was interviewing you to be a member of my team. Whether you noticed it or not is insignificant.” I haven’t been flashy about it with anyone for the record and so far the only person who noticed it was Elaine. I’m surprised she hasn’t made some sort of remark to Trent about it, after all of her insinuations. “I’m a private person and extremely professional, so just because I’m not talking about flowers, favors, and wedding cakes at our weekly team meetings, it doesn’t mean I’m fair game.” I jut my chin out stubbornly.

“Sorry. I just thought…I mean, I felt like we had a connection.” He bites his lip and stares at me as if he is waiting for me to agree. Which is not going to happen. One, I am engaged and two, that would be the most inappropriate and unprofessional move of my career.

The silence between us is loud. I cast my gaze in the direction of the report, trying to decide which item to tackle first. “Let’s talk about your call time resolution. It’s really been suffering. What can you do over this next week to improve that?”

“I’ll go over the handbook guide this weekend and write up a few key responses for handling basic conflicts. Then I’ll identify the companies we want to focus on promoting for Q3 and begin building my backlist for them.”

This is music to my ears. This is the guy I hired. Not the somber depressed guy who had been sitting at my desk a few minutes ago.

“Perfect. I think if you can adjust all of your calls with those key items you can see a drastic spread increase next week.” I nod my head. Inside I’m doing a dance. I hope I never have a conversation like this, with Trent where he brings up his feelings for me, again. That was beyond awkward. And deep down I’m kicking myself because Jack had warned me of Trent’s true feelings and I had brushed him off.

He was right. I wasn’t totally blindsided. I’m not an idiot; I know when people seem attracted to me. But attracted and caring for me in more than a physical way are two different things.

“I won’t let you down again, Lauren.” Trent stands up. He is like a giant over my desk. I stand as well and he is still a good foot and half taller than me. I’m not extremely tall, more like average woman height, but Trent fits on the scale of professional basketball player. Like when you’re in a crowd he towers over everyone, but not in an awkward world record award winner way, instead like a celebrity who stands out from regular people. Oh lawd, I need to get a grip. I’ve obviously spent too much time contemplating his height.

Except Jack isn’t shorter than him. Hmmm, maybe he isn’t as tall as a pro basketball player. Jack is really tall, but I’ve never seen him as a pro basketball player type. Maybe that’s because he doesn’t have that type of body build. He isn’t lanky or thin; he’s got muscles. I sigh.
Muscles that I miss.

“Thanks.” I manage to say to Trent as we both reach for the door and our hands touch. He lets his rest on mine for a second too long and I jerk mine back like I’ve touched something hot. My cheeks are warm. I take in a deep breath.

Trent stares down at me and the sides of his mouth curl up. “That’s what I thought.” He opens the door and strides out of my office.

I roll my eyes. Great. Like I need him thinking there is anything there.
Argh.
I need this day to be over.

I make my way back over to my desk and see a message on my screen. It’s from Javier.

“Numbers are not good this week. Not good.”

My stomach clenches.
Shiat.
He is right. My team’s numbers are horrible this week. I’m sure Elaine is rocking back and forth in her office chair right now, glowing in her schadenfreude of enjoyment.

“Yes, sir, we are working on our game strategy for next week.”

“I hope to see a big improvement.”

“Yes, sir, you will.”

Shiat.
I let out a deep sigh and type up an email to each member of my team outlining where they need to improve and asking for them to send me a detailed list of what they are going to do to make this happen.

Always get it in writing is my mantra for all things business related. Even though Trent and I already met, I still need his in writing. His is the last email I send. I have to be careful how I word it. I don’t want him to take anything I say for an innuendo of anything other than professional work-related discussion.

“Trent,

I’m sending out an email to everyone on our team with their numbers for this week and outlining where we need to see an improvement for next week. Please send me back a list of what you are going to do to make this happen.”

I click send. My clock reminds me I have got less than an hour in the office before I rush off to the airport.

A message pops up on my screen.

“You want me to put in writing what we already discussed in your office?”

I roll my eyes. Why does he have to be so difficult?

“Yes, everyone needs to send me an outline of what their methods will be for improving their numbers for next week’s reports.”

“Do you not remember our conversation?”

My stomach clenches.
“Trent, I need everyone’s emailed list by 4 p.m. today, thank you.”

I close out of the messenger program. I do not need any further back and forth from him. I go through my own numbers and make a list of what I’m going to do to increase my own shortcomings. Knock. Knock. My shoulders slouch. I don’t need any distractions right now.

I open the door and Trent is leaning against the doorframe. His entire body is exuding confidence. The somber look from earlier has vanished. It’s almost as if he took a suave pill and is ready to see how it works on the ladies. I shake my head. I’m not in an Axe commercial. I’m not swayed by scents…well maybe, but only Jack’s. Trent’s scent does nothing for me and neither does this air of overconfidence, leaning against my door. I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Yes?”

He grins. “I was having a hard time remembering everything in our conversation. I thought we could go over it one more time.” He taps on a notepad with a blue pen. “I brought my notepad.”

I drop my shoulders. He can’t be serious. I’m not sure what kind of weird game this is, but I don’t want to play. I just want to wrap up my work and head to the airport and get miles away from this office and this tension.

I take a deep, annoyed breath. “Sure, Trent, come on in.” After our Messenger conversation I want to avoid that type of banter in the doorway of my office, which leads to the hallway full of ears and accusations. I wouldn’t be surprised if Elaine popped up from around a cubicle to give her insight into our conversation.

I slide into my chair and Trent’s eyes follow my face, down my body, as if he is seeing someone sit down for the first time. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, so what was it that we decided I should do differently next week?” He taps his blue pen on his lips.

I cast my gaze to my computer screen and pull up his report.

“Okay, so we were talking about your conflict resolution.” I nod.

“Yes.” Trent taps his lip with his pen. “I’m definitely going to work on my conflict resolution.” His eyes are boring into me, like he is trying to force a non-professional conversation.

“Good, and you said you would work on promoting Q3 target companies.” I bite the inside of my cheek.

“Of course, I’ll be promoting Q3. I think the future is looking up.” He raises his eyebrows at me. I’m going to pretend that I do not see this or any other part of his less than subtle statements.

“Great, so we’ve gone over everything, now please send me your report.” I press my lips into two flat lines.

“Come on, Lauren, why are you pretending?”

“Trent, I’m not pretending anything.” I add a “don’t mess with me” edge to my voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’ve got a plane to catch.” I nod my head to the door as in “see yourself out”. I’ve got better things to do than chat it up with Trent about this nonsense.

“Right, to see Jack?” Trent’s eyebrows pull together in doubt. “Deny it all you want, but I bet Jack sees it too.”

I let out a deep breath. “That’s enough. You need to leave.” I stand up and march around my desk and open the door with a force I haven’t experienced in a while.

“Okay that was too far…I’m sorry.” He offers his hand. I’m reluctant to shake it but against my better judgment I do. His hand holds on to mine and he grasps it longer than necessary and rubs my palm with his thumb.

“Trent, you’ve got to stop this.” I yank my hand back.

Trent lets go of my hand and his eyes focus on the floor. I’m hoping he is remorseful and this is the last of his advances. He leaves my office and I shut the door on the nonsense that just occurred in my room.

I type away at my computer and check my email box. There are two messages—both from Trent.

The first one is his response with his action plan. The second is an apology.

“Hey Lauren, I sent my numbers before we met. I thought you knew that when you let me in your office.”

I roll my eyes. Seriously, I do not need this. I lock my computer, grab my purse from my bottom drawer, and hustle out of my office, securing it before I make my way down the hallway.

The elevator opens and I hop in and immediately press the down button. The doors start to close but Trent squeezes in. His eyes are dark and he ignores the elevator and steps towards me. I back up until my back is against the hard metal. This is not right.

Trent leans in close to me, to where there isn’t anything but a millimeter of breathing room.

“Tell me stop and I will.” Trent stares down at me.

“Stop,” I say strongly.

Trent backs up yet he does not have the somber look that came into my office earlier. The elevator dings and I rush out as if I just heard the fire alarm go off. I scramble into my car as fast as I can and head to the airport, eager to brush off my uncomfortable encounter with Trent.

***

“Hey, wow, it’s so good to see you.” Jack breathes into my ear. It is good to see him as well. I’m at home in his arms. In a special place that I don’t want to ever leave. My eyes are full of tears, tears that I do not want to deal with at this moment. Why do I tear up at the most inopportune times? I blink several times and wipe my eyes.

“Lauren, are you all right?” He stares down into my eyes, waiting for a response. No, I’m not all right. Things are not okay, which is why the fountain of sadness is wanting to fall from my eyes. It’s like a warning of the evitable. Foreseeing the ending of something great and I’m not blind; I see it. I know it’s coming.