Page 19 of Submissive Lies

SIX

“This is your 5am wake-up call, Ms. Boyd.”

I thanked the desk clerk, and hung up the phone. Rolling out of bed, I scrubbed my hands across my face. The Hyatt was close by the McCormick, which meant I could somewhat maintain my normal morning schedule. I threw my exercise clothes on, managing to fit in a quick workout at the hotel gym before heading back to the room for a shower. Dressed in my work clothes, I went downstairs to grab breakfast, with enough time left afterwards to walk to the convention center so I’d arrive before 7am.

The McCormick Center could be an intimidating place to work. However, I’d done this enough times by now I knew a few tricks to getting around, and I could avoid the pitfalls others fell victim to. I swung by the Installation & Dismantle—I&D—service desk, and checked in with Tony, the local City Manager. Tony and I had worked together on previous shows, and I smiled as I saw him sitting behind the service desk, poring over paperwork. As I approached, he glanced up, a smile creasing his worn face.

“Hey! Miss Jen! How you doing?” He got up and came around to give me a big hug. He was a large man, gregarious, with a deep rich baritone voice that was distinctly Chicagoan. I loved Tony, and over the years I’d worked with him, he’d always done right by me. I gave him a hug in return.

“Doing good, Tony, doing good! It’s great to see you!”

We made small talk for a few minutes, catching up with each other before I broached the subject I’d been mulling over since the night before.

“Tony, I noticed I have a new leadman this show. Where’s Mitch? You know I love Mitch! If you’ve yanked him off my booth and given him to some other client, I may just have to pull this account from you.” I said it in jest, but the look that came over his face was unexpected.

“Oh, wow. I forgot you ain’t been here in over a year.” Tony’s brows furrowed, distress showing in hound-dog eyes and a voice that went soft. “Mitch had a heart-attack about nine months back. He had to take an early pension.”

My hand flew to my mouth, breath catching in my throat. The breezy attitude I’d come in with this morning disappeared. “Oh, God, I am so sorry! I didn’t know!”

“It’s all right.” Tony moved beside me. His beefy arm came around my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze. “You couldn’t have known.”

I smiled weakly, doing everything I could to put on my best face. Everything going on in my life right now was clearly coloring my reaction, but it was more than just that. Mitch had been an amazing person to work with. He’d always treated me as an equal, never looking or talking down to me. It hurt to think of him gone. I looked at Tony and mumbled, “Well, I’m sure this new guy will be just fine.”

“We’re going to make sure you’re taken care of, Miss Jen. You gotta trust me.” Tony’s fingers dug into my shoulder before letting go. His head bobbed in time to his words of reassurance as he added, “You’re going to be in good hands with Stevie.”

I nodded as he said this, but the thought of what had happened to Mitch rattled me. While I appreciated Tony’s reassurance, I still felt unsure about how this might end up. I was off my stride already, and I hadn’t even entered the booth. I wanted a nice, uncomplicated show, and it wasn’t off to the best start. All I could hope for now was that Tony was telling the truth. That they’d take care of me and this “Stevie” wouldn’t be some hack artist I ended up having to chase out of the booth.

Tony excused himself as one of the service people pulled him away to deal with another client. I took that opportunity to head over to the booth space. The hall was already alive with movement as I walked through the main doors. The sound of voices yelling across the floor, of forklifts shuttling about the hall, the occasional beep of a warning horn, the smell of propane exhaust that built on the thickness of the humid air that was Chicago in spring. One thing I’d learned over the years was once you were inside a convention center at the start of an install it could feel as if you were in any city in the U.S., no different from another a thousand miles away. It felt that way now as I walked across the floor towards the exhibit.

Our booth space was just off the center of the hall, trending towards the front entrance. While we weren’t one of the biggest players on the show floor, we at least avoided being buried in the back corner near the bathrooms. As I came up to our space, I saw that someone from the I&D company had got there first and set up a card table to use as a desk during the set. It was also clear some work had started ahead of my arrival. Looking around, I saw two men talking to each other. One I vaguely remembered from the last time I’d been here. The other I didn’t recognize at all.

Both men looked up from their discussion as I walked in, and I’ll admit, the one I didn’t know caught my attention. He was taller, at least six feet, stocky build, arms corded with muscle. He had dark hair cropped short. Looking at him, my guess was he couldn’t be over five years older than I. Both men stared at me with polite looks, and then the new guy moved, approaching me with a warm smile.

“Morning! I’m going to guess you’re Ms. Boyd.” He offered his hand in greeting. “I’m Steve Friess.”

I took his hand. It was a warm, welcoming handshake. Gray eyes with faint traces of blue stared back at me as we assessed each other. I recognized what we were doing. Each of us looking for anything that would give a clue about the other, good or bad. He gave me a small nod, giving my hand a final firm shake before he let go.

“Morning! Yes, I’m Jennifer Boyd. Nice to meet you.” I could still feel the warmth of his palm. I didn’t break away, but scrutinized him, uncertain why I was doing so. He was an attractive man, there was no escaping that, but beyond that there was something else. It was in the way he stared at me, assessing me. There was a quality to it that seemed… familiar. Familiar in a way I couldn’t quite place. I knew it was more than just him being the new guy in my booth and me trying to predict by looking at him how the next few days would go. Whatever it was, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. Just... intrigued.

He was the first to break the gaze we’d been holding, glancing over his shoulder. “I think you probably know Keith.” He motioned towards the other worker.

I looked at the man I had recognized from previous shows. Once I heard his name it clicked into place. He’d been one of Mitch’s assistants the last time I had been here, and though I’d only worked with him a little, I now connected the name and face.

“Yes, we’ve worked together before.”

Keith approached me, holding out his hand. He had a solemn, serious expression. “Good to see you again, Ms. Boyd.”

“Good to see you again too, Keith.” I shook hands with him politely before turning my gaze back to Steve. He was staring at me once more.

“We’ve got a table all set up here if you’d like to get settled in.” He pointed over towards the one I’d noticed earlier. “Can I get you coffee, something to drink?”

I nodded, eyes flicking from him to the table and then back. “Coffee would be great, thank you.”

He smiled at me again before moving off. I walked to the table, opened my bag, and began spreading out my files and drawings. Keith went back to work while I set up my things. I had just finished when Steve returned. The cup he handed me bore a familiar green logo on a white background. I raised an eyebrow. This was not what I’d expected when he left. I’d assumed coffee from the pot they had at the service desk.

“Well, to what do I owe this special treatment?”

He gave me an amused look, and a low chuckle. “Beg pardon?”

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