Page 32 of Out of Office

What about this man made me act like a teenager in love for the first time? The cold ice cream rolled down my throat, soothing the intense heat at the thought of Adrián naked on his bed, sheets covering his plump ass, tangled between his thighs as I walked away from him. The temptation to go back to bed and let the plane leave without me had been so strong. But recklessness had never been comfortable for me.

Recklessness wasn’t welcome in the Raymond household. Follow your head, and your heart will be satisfied—another motto of Lissette.

Fuck that.

I put down the ice cream and picked up the phone. A cold tingle that had nothing to do with the sweet concoction settled in my belly and made me feel more alive than I had in weeks.

Not since the last night with Adrián.

The phone rang two times, then his euphonious voice greeted me.

“Hello, Preciosa. I’m so happy you called,” he said, and I sank back on the sofa, basking in the joy of speaking to him again.

“Me too. I was nervous, but...”

“I was nervous too, that you wouldn’t call me,” he said, and I could hear the noise of cars beeping behind him.

“Why would you think that? I emailed you first.” I twirled a strand of my hair on my finger.

“Well, you left me that morning. I thought I had more time, but I woke up and...”

“I couldn’t say goodbye. I just...” I trailed off and shrugged, unable to explain how hard it had been to walk away from him.

“I understand,” he responded, and his voice sounded so close I wished he was here.

“So... I emailed you because I got the VP job, and the first person I thought of telling was you.”

“Let’s go! Look at you killin’ it out there in those streets. I knew that job was yours, you’re very dedicated, and it shows,” Adrián said, congratulating me, and besides Gino and Anibal, it was the most sincere, selfless congratulation I had received. I beamed like a kid in a toy shop, and again I wished Adrián was sitting next to me.

“Listen, I have to go, but I want to do this more often. I know we both have lives and careers, but...would you like to have a long-distance friendship?” Adrián asked.

Friendship... I wanted a hell of a lot more than a friendship with him, but I understood his offer and was grateful for it. Oh, if he were one of the men in the shallow dating pool here, things would be different. However, Adrián’s goals were as crystal clear as mine, the one space where our compatibility wouldn’t be enough to overcome the obstacles.

“Yes, I was wrong to delete your number and mine from your cell. I don’t want to say goodbye to you, even if I can’t have you near.”

“There are always business trips, right?”

“Yes, you’re right. LATAM is my region now.” Another visit to the Tropics with a weekend in Aguimar haunted me like a dream deferred. Having to see him to then let him go each time...maybe I was a masochist and just didn’t know it.

“There you go, so. Can I call you in the evenings?”

“Of course, of course, please call me.”

“Okay. Bye, Preciosa.”

“Chao, Adrián.” I hung up with a silly grin on my face and with decidedly not friendship feelings crackling inside.

A quiet, cold room, furnished by an elegant long oakwood table and executive chairs, a screen with a PowerPoint, and two flip charts with ideas written down in colored marker would be the beginning of my villain origin story.

Another “this could have been an email” meeting. The hour lingered interminably as I attempted to focus on the topic at hand.

“Each of you in this room has an expansion goal, which we will be reviewing every other week together to brainstorm ideas and check progress. My expectation is that you provide a brief overview of the results of your region and then move on to detailing the progress in your action plan for expansion. When we thought of these positions, we wanted them to be nimble. Many other organizations have two people for what you do, one for ops and the other for expansion and acquisition. Here at Tropics, we believe that with the right team and resources, we can accomplish much more in a streamlined structure.” Jan Ricard’s words resonated in the boardroom where we, the VPs of Ops for the Americas, sat listening intently.

We were a diverse bunch, all due to Ricard’s vision for the future. Anibal, Southeast Region with his suave aura but great results; Shelly Allerton, a fifty-year-old, no-nonsense woman, who had a collection of primary-colored pant suits that draped her plus-size body to perfection, who covered the Northeast. Jack Jack Cohen, forty, who asked every meeting to be called Jack Jack, even though Ricard refused to do so, and called him instead by his last name, handled Canada and Midwest/Central. Jack Jack always looked like he had a funny secret and was just here to have a good time. Arjun Suthar, a quiet man who was promoted at the same time as I, handled the West Coast. Arjun only opened his mouth after he’d clearly thought things through from all angles, and I saw an ally in him immediately.

Then there was me.

I’d fought so hard to be in this room; I’d gone above and beyond every single day of my career to be here, in strategic meetings that would shape the company’s future for years to come. The sense of accomplishment and excitement had not died down, but Ricard’s words lingered as a sober reminder of the workload that was coming my way.

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