Page 22 of Strictly Business

MICHAELA

SIFTING THROUGH BOXES OF old shit is not how I wanted to spend my weekend, but it was better than waiting around for Monday morning to show up. My dad arrived in the city Thursday morning with a truckload of boxes labeled Michaela’s Room. It was crazy to see my entire life packed into a few boxes, but I can’t deny it was a nice trip down memory lane. We spent Thursday together before he flew home that night.

I was hoping I would wake up this morning and last week would be a bad dream, but I guess I'm not that lucky. "Two weeks," I whisper in the final seconds to myself before the elevator doors open.

Liv waves briefly from behind the desk talking to someone on the phone. She’s my favorite part of working at corporate. I got to know her better at the end of last week while setting up the temporary office space Nina offered to Finn and me. The space overlooks a small green space between our building and the Four Seasons Hotel. It’s not the nicest view, but I shouldn't complain. At least we will have somewhere to work without interruption.

Reaching the door to the office, I take a moment to brace myself for what’s on the other side. I remind myself this is what I need to do to prove to Nina I’m capable of continuing to work for her. With a deep breath, I push the door open… to an empty office.

Thank God, I get a few minutes to breathe before Finn gets here. I claim my spot at the conference table in the middle of the room. Last Friday, I brought in some office supplies, an espresso machine, a mini fridge filled with snacks and almond milk, and a blanket because my favorite way to work is snuggled under a warm blanket with a latte. I’m going to be stuck here, I might as well make it as comfortable as possible, and surprisingly enough, the corporate people don’t have an espresso machine.

I go through my emails, scanning over a few between Caitlin and Jamie about a current project in Brooklyn before a new email pops up in the corner.

Try not to have too much fun. - N

Thanks Nin.

The time next to the notification catches my eye. 10:16 A.M. Did we not agree on ten?

Great, the bullshit is already starting…

“Mr. Sheffield has already arrived, he’s in your office,” Liv says when I step off the elevator the next morning.

“You mean he decided to show up to work today? Goody,” I huff earning a small laugh from her.

Needless to say, I gave him two hours yesterday before I called Nina. Did she answer? No. Did I text her ranting about him? Yes.

How was I supposed to handle it? It’s not like I’m his boss. Technically, she is… Isn’t she? I mean, it’s her company. Or is it Kai’s? Both? It doesn’t matter. What does matter is I have no idea how she wants me to handle it.

“If I hear screaming, no, I didn’t,” Liv calls over her shoulder as I walk down the hallway towards the office.

Through the open door, Finn sits with his ankles crossed on top of the oak conference table, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the New York Times in the other. His navy blue jacket hangs on the back of the chair, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showcasing strong arms struggling against the taunt white fabric.

“Can you not act like a caveman for two seconds?” I push his feet from the table.

“You first,” he says from behind his coffee mug.

Another deep breath. “Look, we just need to get survive the next two weeks and then we never have to speak again.”

“I’d rather we not speak now.”

“Ditto.”

“Do you even know the first thing about running a business?" Finn finally looks up from the newspaper to glare at me.

“Do you?” I snap back.

“From what I hear, you’re not the best at it. Seems you are on thin ice.”

I scoff, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So, Nina didn’t give you one month’s notice to get your shit straight or get out?”

“You know what...”

His smirk never falters as he waits for me to finish my statement. I’d like nothing more than to reach across the table and slap the shit out of him, but if I have to keep my cool. I cannot let him get the best of me. “I’m waiting,” his smirk grows wider.

Don’t do it, Michaela. Don’t fall for it. He wants you to say something snarky, so he has a reason to be even more of a dick.

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