Page 26 of Out of Office

I’d asked Adrián for a clean break; he’d reluctantly agreed. Why would I want to stay in touch with the only man in my life who had made me second-guess my plans? I understood what he and I had was unique, but Adrián had a life and a family to support, and I had my own responsibilities. Never had I second-guessed a decision more than I did that night. How could I leave him after everything we had shared together? I’d opened up with him, shared so many fears and dreams, things only Gino knew. The ease of it all, of being with him in paradise, had convinced me if only for a few days, that my life could be different. That I could have this.

But reality had a way of never wavering, of reminding you to stay grounded. And at the end, that is who I was, grounded, determined, goal oriented. Remembering that, what was at stake for me in Florida, I decided keeping the lines of communication open with Adrián would be a mistake. It would be a reminder of a time where I allowed myself to dream too big, reach too far.

So that early morning, I kissed him while asleep, secure in the knowledge I had erased his number from my cell phone, and the same in his phone the night before, then asked Mario and Chichi to drive me to Panamá. They chatted it up all the way to the Tocumen Airport while pretending they couldn’t hear the sorry sniffles in the back of Adrián’s old SUV.

The sniffles became my best friend for the days to come. Pretending everything was well at work had never been harder. Expecting my knack to compartmentalize to kick in, then finding out I’d lost the ability because of Adrián’s absence was a heavy blow. Everything made me think of him, emails from Tropics Panamá reminded me of his pickups and drop-offs.

I started following the Black Travel Chronicles accounts where I saw pictures of the last night in Aguimar, of the colorful polleras waving in the night air. In one of the pictures, I spotted Adrián’s smiling face, so full of love for his people; I had to turn off the phone, and seriously considered removing my social media apps for a few weeks. Anything to remove the taste of his lips from my mouth, and the feel of his skin against mine. The sense of comfort I felt with him and the wonder lingered on, refusing to depart.

Giving up on any sleep, I changed into my workout clothes and went to my treadmill. After twenty-five minutes, at an obscenely high incline and a speed that required me to wear my hair up in a ponytail today and slick down my edges, I hopped into the shower to get myself ready for the day.

Two hours later, I was sitting in front of my computer, shocked at the email I’d just received.

“I see by your opened mouth you just read the good news.” Anibal strolled into my office holding two cups of coffee, looking dapper with one of his bespoke suits, the black fabric accentuating his warm complexion, his soft curls sleeked back, and that megawatt smile that had me considering re-whitening my teeth.

“You knew?”

“Here, drink your congratulatory coffee, future VP of LATAM and the Caribbean.” He handed me my cup. My chest tightened, and my shoulders lifted at his words. Words that confirmed what I had just read. The president of operations, Jan Ricard, had invited me to a meeting this afternoon, essentially calling it an informal interview. However, the email stated they wanted to offer me the position. They’d just opened it three days ago, and I thought I’d have to fight for it, but here I was, bursting a ceiling sooner than expected.

“Am I really going to get it?”

“Yes. You deserve it, and I couldn’t say much in Panamá, but Ricard had already told me it was almost a done deal. That’s why Anita, with her sharp tongue, needs to learn how to...”

“Mmm-hmm. Careful,” I harrumphed. I loved Anibal, but he had a few things that irked me sometimes. His weird animosity for Anita, who now would report to me, was one of them.

“What? I haven’t said anything.” He picked imaginary lint off his suit. Another thing that irked me. He was amazing, always treating me like a partner, always collaborative, but he remained aloof. Never fully opening up. Not that I was an open book, but since returning from Aguimar, I realized a lot of my relationships were more transactional in nature. It was interesting to see usually aloof Anibal flustered by someone. Flustered by Anita.

“Aha, you let nothing bother you...until Anita appeared in your life.”

“That makes her sound like a rash.” Anibal ran his hand through his curls, and one of them popped up, escaping the sleek hold.

“You know I’ma rat you out, right?” I said, relaxing the way I only could do with him and a few other colleagues in the office.

“Please don’t. I’ll be your counterpart as I have in Florida, Georgia, and the Carolinas, and I really don’t wanna be fighting with her if I have to cover for you.”

“Well then, stop antagonizing her. That will fix your problems.” I smiled and sipped my coffee, enjoying riling my usually unflappable boss, soon-to-be colleague.

“I stopped by to congratulate you, and here you are, annoying me. I’ma leave.”

“Okay, bossy boss.”

“Another reason to celebrate, for you to stop calling me that nickname. Oh, your promotion is not effective till next week, so I’ma need that report of the next quarterly forecast for the Tropics Panamá on my desk by Friday.”

“Anibal, you’re thirty-nine years old, not a hundred. Can you stop talking about reports being on your desk...you know I’ll send that electronically. Why are you so annoying?”

“Because I can be. Later.” Anibal walked out, and I stared at his back, happy for his support and rolling my eyes at his antics.

Two hours later, I sat across from Jan Ricard, a fifty-year-old mestizo Latin woman with a kind smile, wearing a designer suit that probably would have me eating bread and drinking water for weeks. Her shrewd eyes studied me while I assessed the woman who had taken the company from middle-of-the-road results to the streak of growth we’d had in the past five years. She was a legend in these hallways. Ricard offered me the VP job, giving me a speech about her expectations.

“Thank so much, Ricard, I really look forward to a great partnership. I’m honored to have the position.”

Ricard waved my comments away, her bejeweled hand the only eccentricity in the otherwise composed woman.

“You deserve it. And it’s too few of us in C-suite positions. Once I retire to a remote beach town in Honduras, I want someone as driven and talented as me to take over. I’m all about the long game.”

Her words sparked a hunger in me that had been dormant since I’d returned from Panamá. This was what I had been working for. This was what I wanted. I’d lost track of it in talks of relaxation and recharging, on moping around for a future that wasn’t mine, but now that I had accomplished this, I could focus back on what really mattered—the next step in my career.

Right here, Ricard was the best example of why I needed to continue on. She had managed to move up the ladder, and she was planning to bring me up too. That was the only way we women could succeed. Images of Ricard leaving the office last and arriving the earliest filtered through my excitement reminding me of what would come for me. I’d never been afraid of hard work, but with my already meager social life, how would I manage with fewer hours outside of the office?

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