Page 29 of If The Shoe Fits

Helene

Monday was always a little hectic at the office. Their industry technically didn't stop on weekends. Helene had earned her Saturdays and Sundays off because of her own results. She managed to get more than her share of work done during the week, reeling in accounts that stayed faithful to her over the years. But the fashion weeks, catwalks, Broadway premieres, and new shows needed injections of innovative cosmetics twenty-four seven.

It looked like the office had an interesting weekend.

Everyone was running around and either screaming or whispering. By nine o'clock, Helene had gathered that the core of the problem was that one of their big buyers, a fancy brand who spent hundreds of thousands worldwide on their products, had received an incorrect delivery. A newbie error that should never have happened. The juicy part of the story was that the account was overseen by no other than Carrie herself. But naturally, the head of sales was taking none of the responsibility, blaming everyone else instead. And maybe she was right; her intern was the one who'd set up the wrong sale…but the bottom line was, for an account as important as that one, she should have checked it.Twice.

Helene should have been relatively indifferent to the drama—it had nothing to do with her—but negative energy poured out of the end of every corridor. She could feel the stress and fear ooze out of her coworkers.

She focused on her own sales, flying through dozens of communications, skipping her lunch to get through the weekend's unanswered calls and messages, plus check on the clients she had set up for a call back on that day.

She managed to surface for long enough to go inhale a terrible instant coffee in the staff break room at four.

Naturally, Carrie cornered her there. "What do you think you're doing, taking a break? Haven't you seen we're trying to fix things? It's supposed to be a team effort. If we lose the account, we're all going to suffer."

Breathe.

To her surprise, not only could she hear Cade's voice, Helene also felt his hands on her shoulders. Pressing hard on the balls of her feet.

"I know, which is why I worked through my lunch." Helene was proud of herself for not pointing out that Carrie was also clearly in the break room. And she was the one who'd messed up.

She grimaced and downed the rest of her coffee, burning her tongue. It tasted like gas, but if it got her through the next hour alive, it was worth it.

"Being friends with Emily isn't all it takes to make it in this company," Carrie spat. "You'd better pull your weight."

Helene managed to keep a straight face.

It was well known that Carrie and Emily were college friends. Never one to like to step outside of her lab, Emily had left the running of the sales department to her friend, and entirely relied on her for the day-to-day management of Bijoux Skin, while she ruled in her white, sterile room.

Sure, Helene had made a point to get to know the wonderful brain behind their brand, and she got along with the owner just fine, but she certainly didn't owe her job to anyone. She got it on her own merit, and had topped the sales department for years without any help.

Pointing out any of that wasn't likely to help her cause. Arguing it in front of an audience to try to get a raise or a promotion? Sure. But she knew that there was zero point to telling Carrie any of that. Carrie knew her worth. She just wanted to keep Helene right where she was.

"Right. I'd better get back to work."

By the end of the day, she was practically running to the elevator. The tense atmosphere was seriously stressing her out. Checking her phone on her way down, she replied to a couple of texts, one from Cassie and one from her ex-roommate, asking whether she was open to finding another apartment together. She wasn't. She might be desperate to split rent, but nothing justified another house fire. Absentmindedly running through her personal emails for the day—mostly ads, with a few replies from rental agencies—she paused, catching an email sent much earlier that day.

His name flashed, making her blush. Cade Lawson.

Part of Helene hadn't expected to ever hear from him again. But here he was, in her inbox, with the subject line "As promised."

What had he promised her?

Numbly, she clicked on his email, and remained flabbergasted as she read line after line.

He was running a survey. He wanted to know if his employees earned enough to feed themselves. He'd remembered their conversation, and right on Monday morning, he was doing something about it.

She couldn't believe her eyes.

Helene pressed on the reply button, and stared at the blank page.

What was she even supposed to say to that?

Hey Cade.

Good start, right?

All right, you've managed to surprise me. I didn't think you'd care to follow through. Now, the question is, what are you going to do if you find out I was right?

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