4-Non-existent Impression
XAVER
Every morning, wherever I’m at, I work out. I use this time to meditate, not letting fuck-all into my mind except the exertion and practicing proper form.
I complete my heavy lifting and cardio and then head to my suite to take a shower. There, I let the warm water refresh me, and as I lather up my body with eucalyptus douche-gel, excitement curls in my stomach.
Something is on the horizon. I can sense it. Smell it, even. I don’t know what it is, but I’m excited just the same.
I towel off in the bedroom, watching dawn's rays break through the clouds. The soft light paints the old buildings of Berlin in a nice, golden glow. The city is a place of beauty that unfortunately, I’ve never taken the time to explore. It’s the same routine with any other dot on the map I do business in. Meetings, sex, and handling the matters that clamor for my attention keep me more than occupied.
And that’s enough for now.
Every morning, wherever I’m at, I work out. I use this time to meditate, not letting fuck into my mind except the exertion and practicing proper form.
Today, I run and do some heavy lifting and when I’m done, I take my time in the shower, letting the warm steam refresh me.
As I lather up, excitement curls in my stomach.
Something is on the horizon. I can sense it. Smell it, even. I don’t know what it is, but I’m excited just the same.
I towel off in the bedroom, watching dawn’s rays break through the clouds. The soft light paints the old buildings of Berlin in a nice, golden glow. The city is a place of beauty I’ve never taken the time to explore. Same with any other dot on the map I do business in. Meetings, sex, and handling the matters that clamor for my attention keep me more than occupied.
I head to the walk-in closet and select a dark-blue suit and a light-blue dress shirt. Once dressed, I call down to room service to have my meal sent up. Fifteen minutes later, my standard breakfast of oatmeal, fresh fruit, and coffee arrives, wheeled in by a smiling man. I’ve worked up quite an appetite after my work out and I dig in as soon as the server shuts the door.
I finish the oatmeal in record time and as I start on the fruit, my thoughts turn to last night, Blondie, and the fun I had. Inhaling the rich essence of coffee as I pour a cup, I make the decision to go out tonight and do it all over again.
A different club. A different blonde or redhead or brunette.
And damn the bad feelings after. Damn them to hell.
Eating breakfast doesn't take long, and looking at my watch, I realize I’ve enough time before my conference call to clean up my notifications and e-mails. I scroll through my phone, shelving or deleting the notifications. Next, I check my e-mails on my laptop.
The most recent ones are from Kat. She’s sent me several concerning the meetings she’s arranged for when I return to New York. There’s also one from her about the Dark Arrow mockup.
I reply to put the mockup on my desk and that I’ll be in the office, day after tomorrow.
Jake has also sent me a message. He wants to stay at my apartment while he films on location. I’ve told him in the past that he doesn’t need to ask. My best friend can stay as long as he likes.
The CC messages come next. I steam through those, quickly reading the titles before discarding them. At the sheer amount of them, I let out a heavy sigh of annoyance.
I don’t have time to look at this shit. That’s what my new PA is for, to handle the crap I don’t want to.
Speaking of which …
Yes, here it is. The e-mail from my Aunt Leslie about the new PA.
I click on the e-mail. The body is blank, but there is a file attached.
*Strange. Aunt Leslie always has something to say. *
I pour another cup of coffee and lifting the cup to my mouth, I sip away, waiting for the file to download.
When it does, I’m speechless.
When it opens a few seconds later, I’m speechless. Dark hair frames a pale face. A hint of blush resides in her apple cheeks. She looks otherworldly in a black business suit with a high Victorian collar. Her thin nose is refined. Her cheekbones could cut paper. Her plush lips are the perfect shade of pink.
But what really gets me are her eyes. They’re almost as nice as mine. A different shade of green, though. Like jade-colored silk—brilliant and hot.
Looking at her every day will be a treat. But that’s all I’ll do. I don’t shit where I eat. Doing so is a sure-fire ticket to destroying everything I’ve built. I can keep my dick in my pants, unlike my CFO, Craig Farkas. To keep him out of trouble, I allowed him to hire his “intern”, that friend of Gia’s. He’d better stick to her, because if there’s a whiff of harassment, I’m firing his ass.
Almost brother-in-law or not.
I go back to staring at my new PA to quell the distaste of my CFO. I linger over her picture for a moment longer, then swing my hand down to shut the cover of my laptop. It’s only then that I notice the writing below the picture.
That minx!
Aunt Leslie has a great sense of humor. One day, it just might get her fired.
The practical joker had written in her elegant scrawl: This is Heather Pagitt. She’s the backup candidate. Remember, qualifications count! Scroll down for your new PA.
I do—eagerly.
A few taps later, my new PA comes into view.
All I can say is...
She’s so far from my type, I’ll be hard pressed to look at her once, let alone twice. Not because she’s black. Hell, I’ve had women from damn near opaque to onyx, so that’s not the issue. This woman just doesn’t make me tick. There’s something about her that I don’t like.
Is it the mass of tight curls, swirling around her heart-shaped face?
No. Those are all right.
Perhaps it’s her diamond-shaped chin? The slight dimple helps, but the sharpness makes her look too determined, and her nose, granted a cute button one, is at odds with her lips, which aren’t very lush.
All of those features combined are okay for some men, I suppose, but it’s her eyes that really put me off. Despite her sunny smile, a deep-rooted sadness lingers in those big browns. Wariness, too.
They remind me of the time I’d sunk to my knees.
The time when I had to identify my fiancée’s body.
Anger at this woman for dredging up the memory grips a hold of me. I type in a sarcastic response, not bothering to think it through before I click send.
Let Aunt Leslie chew on what I wrote.
Actually, the minx will probably bust a gut laughing when she relays the story to Uncle Herbert.
Damn it!
I slam the cover closed, my anger bubbling over. That’s the last time I trust her with someone working so close to me. Next time, I’ll have final say.
After a few moments, I’m calm enough to re-open my laptop and study the PA’s picture. For over five minutes, I search for the qualities that made her so special.
Aunt Leslie must’ve seen something in this woman that I’m missing.
What that something is, I fail to see, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be busy traveling, so there will only be a few weeks that I’ll have to suffer those haunting browns. If worse comes to worse, I can always communicate with the new PA through Kat.
Closing my laptop with finality, I stand, pour myself another cup of coffee, and then stare out the window.
The sun is higher. The sky, brighter. It’s going to be a beautiful day.
With the view, the last of my anger dims as the promise of something grows stronger within me. I still don’t know why I’m feeling this way, only that I do. I can’t help it any more than I can control the sun rising.
I drain my coffee with a satisfying smack. At the breakfast cart, I pour some water into a glass and lift it to my lips. The thick crystal bottom acts as a prism, making me smile at the myriad of colorful sparks dancing before my eyes.
An omen of good times to come.
Yeah, things will work out.
I’ll put Kat in charge of the PA so I don’t have to deal with her. And if the she, the PA Aunt Leslie chose, screws up just once, Heather Pagitt will have her job quicker than the newbie can say boo.