Page 20 of Submissive Lies

“Starbucks?” I raised the cup up slightly. “I’ve never rated anything more than Tony’s coffee before.”

Steve gave a short laugh, the sound reflected in eyes that went from a slate gray to burnished steel with eagerness. “I thought it best to make as good an impression as I could right from the start. I know Mr. Kourdris took good care of you, and I don’t want to be that guy that ruins his legacy.”

At the mention of Mitch’s last name, I hesitated as a pang of pain pricked at me. I forced a smile across my face, nodding. Taking a sip of the coffee, a familiar flavor hit my tongue, and I pulled the cup back in surprise. It was prepared exactly the way I liked it. I glanced at him, and then took another taste. I was intrigued. How he could have known how I liked my coffee I had no idea. Maybe it’d been a lucky guess, but I knew the chances of that were unlikely. Few people drank coffee with the amount of extra syrup pumps I did. Just the mention of the number would send most people into a diabetic shock.

I looked from the cup to Steve again, my eyes narrowing. He noticed my gaze, and his smile grew perceptibly wider. He didn’t say a word but continued to watch, waiting.

“How did you know?”

“Now what kind of leadman would I be if I didn’t do my homework, Ms. Boyd?” His smile brightened by a few more degrees as he looked at me with quiet satisfaction.

I saw no arrogance in his expression, and I couldn’t begrudge him for looking pleased. It was a neat trick he’d pulled off, and I let out an appreciative chuckle.

Well, well. This was growing more interesting by the moment.

“Okay, fair enough. You’ve gotten my attention. Now let’s see how well you do getting my booth set up.”

Steve grinned at me and gave a slight nod. “All right! Let’s go.”

Pulling his own set of drawings out, he spread them across the table. I looked at them as he pushed the first page down flat. It only took a quick glance to see that Steve had done his homework. He’d marked up his copies of the drawings up with notes, and it was obvious he’d looked the prints over in sufficient detail to know what was in store for us.

“So, we’ll get the A/V cords down, the electrical laid, the base plates in position, and if all that looks good to you, then I’ll have the guys start laying the carpet and pad. That should go fast, and the way I see it, there shouldn’t be any issue getting the tower panels started, if not complete before we break tonight.”

I listened as he described how he saw the set going. If he was trying to impress me in a manner similar to what he’d done with the coffee, he was doing a damned good job.

“So, what do you think, Ms. Boyd? Sound like a reasonable plan?” He shot me an inquiring look. “If you saw anything I missed, or that doesn’t sound right, let me know, okay? This is my first time with your booth, so I’ll defer to you on most things. If you have any suggestions or know of any tricks you want to let me in on, please do.”

Okay, now I was definitely impressed. The way Steve was handling things was different. I had been on more installs than I cared to count where the leadman assumed I knew nothing about erecting my exhibit. He would go off on his own, not even giving me the opportunity to give my input. When I was new to this part of my job, I had accepted dismissal of that sort as just part of the way things were. After time and experience… not so much. Leadmen I came across who tried to take that approach with me ended up in one of two situations. Either they learned to listen and heed my say, or they found themselves kicked off the call. I paid the bills. I’d be damned if I would let someone bust my budget to line their own pockets thinking they could roll over me. Or because their precious ego wouldn’t allow them to take direction from a woman.

Steve was in a rare category. I hadn’t needed to prompt him. He’d straight up requested my feedback rather than assume I had none to give. That was unique. It showed a sign of confidence and respect I couldn’t help but take notice of. If I’d had concerns about having a new leadman this morning after learning about Mitch, the last thirty minutes had done wonders in wiping them away.

But there was another unexpected effect from all of this. I felt a tingle run up my spine.

It was one I hadn’t felt since that first day at lunch with Thomas.

Wait, what?

-Oh my God, are you… are you checking this guy out? Are you sniffing around him? You are, aren’t you?-

It’s not like that! I’m just… looking.

-Uh, huh. You are a piece of work… -

But it wasn’t like that. Sure, he was attractive, without a doubt. Damn attractive. As he and the crew went about their jobs, I kept glancing at him. Watching his arms, looking at his chest. There was no doubt he was built. Fit. In addition, he carried himself with a level of confidence that was hard not to notice. He gathered the crew, spoke with them, and they listened. None of them wandered off, no one rolled their eyes or ignored what he had to say. I’d seen that in the past with other leadmen, and it was never a good sign. But the thing that really struck me was that Steve listened. When one of the crew asked a question, he never cut the person off but paused, listened, and then responded calmly, sometimes joking, but never condescending. When the crew worked, he worked with them, only stopping to answer a question or to point something out when needed. There was something about the way he moved, the way he led the crew that sparked a memory in me. Something I recognized in the back of my head, but couldn’t quite place.

-He's ex-military, Jen. Come on. Look at him. You recognize it.-

Shit! He is. He’s just like some of the guys that worked under Dad.

The more I watched him, the more I could see it. My father was a retired Army officer, and I grew up around people that carried themselves the way Steve was doing. I recognized the leadership methods he was using. Steve didn’t speak down to the crew or force his authority on them. He let his demeanor and actions speak for him. As the installation continued, one thing became clear. There wasn’t anyone on the crew that did not follow his lead. Watching him, I remembered what my dad had once said: ‘Respect the man, not the rank.’

The crew respected Steve. That was clear. And it was obvious he’d earned their trust and respect because he knew what he was doing.

And that was the thing. As I’d been doing from the moment we’d met, I was assessing Steve. Tallying up all those little positives and not finding the negatives. I realized how preposterous that sounded. No one was perfect… but there I was still marking the tallies. And they were all coming up in the ‘good’ column. The research he’d done on the booth, the investigation he’d carried out on me, and the way he’d asked for my input rather than assuming I was ignorant… These were all points in his favor. The assurance and confidence with which he carried himself were things I found personally attractive, and the rapport he had with the crew was something more uncommon than common in my experience. I kept trying to find something negative about him, something to offset all those other things, and it was almost grating that I couldn’t. For me, if I was listing out my triggers, Steve was hitting every one of them dead on.

-Ooo, yeah. He’s a fucking hottie, isn’t he? I wonder what he’s like in bed. Assertive, aggressive…-

Shut the fuck up. It is not like that.

---