The Arrangement

Chapter 10

AnnaLeigh

I was a block away from the coffee shop where I was supposed to be meeting Alice, Mr. Newport's assistant from the company Fairfax. Where I had applied before and thought I really had nailed the interview. I had walked out of the midtown office afterwards, convinced I had the job.

Mr. Newport was a nice man. He had a daughter my age and was quick to tell me how impressive my GPA was. We had got along well. So, when I got the rejection email a few days after the interview, I had to read it three times before I understood what it was saying. That I hadn't gotten the job. That I wasn't good enough.

But now, with his assistant reaching out to me, I felt the little excitement butterflies in my stomach start to flutter. Maybe Mr. Newport had realized his mistake and sent her to apologize to me, to see if I was still in need of a job.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and pulled the door open, letting a businessman walk out before I step inside the busy coffee shop. I look around, seeing many suit clad workers typing away on their laptops and phones, coffee in front of them. I was trying to remember what Alice looked like. Did she have red hair? Or was it dark brown?

But then I hear, "AnnaLeigh, Over here."

I turned, following the voice to a small table toward the back of the shop. It was cramped between two other tables, one taken up by a college student and the other by a mother with a toddler. Alice, who indeed had dark brown hair, was standing with a polite smile on her face. She looked nervous.

"Hi." She says, offering her hand out for a shake.

"Nice to see you again," I say, shaking it. We both sit down.

"Thanks for meeting me," She begins and she scans the coffee shop like she was making sure nobody important would overhear her next words.

"I know this isnt excatly conventional and I know that the last time you heard from us, you didnt get the job..."

Here we go, I thought. This is the moment I will remember forever.

"But I just...I wanted you to know why you didnt get the job."

"Oh," My voice trails off, my disappointment evident. This wasn't a job offer. It was a detailed analysis of where I had done wrong.

"Mr. Newport liked you. In fact, you were his top choice."

"I was?"

"I was already writing up your contract when he got it."

"Got what?"

I'm sure I looked every bit as confused as I was. And her eyes looking nervously around wasn't helping. She leaned foward, her elbows on the table and her face just a few inches from mine.

"You were working at Gates Inc. before, right? In Jersey?

I nod.

"Mr. Newport...he received a document from Gates. From Mr. Landon, specifically. " I cringe at the name and then I felt my whole body shut down. Mr. Landon was my old boss. He was the reason I had moved to New York City.

"Mr. Landon wrote a letter to us...it was a warning."

"A warning about me?" I ask, incredulous.

"No. More like a warning for us. Gates is a multinational corporation with power over many of our clients. It has the ability to interrupt our business on a massive level. And Mr. Landon...he made sure it was clear that if we hired you, he would make things hard for us."

"But that....that is illegal." I choke out.

She sighs. "Illegal, immoral, it is all of those things. Mr. Landon is known in the industry for fighting every battle like it's a war, you know? Mr. Newport is a good man but he didnt want to risk it."

"Not when there are so many designers. I get it." I say, even though I am flooded with self pity.

"I wasn't even supposed to know, but I read the letter right when we got it. I read most of Mr. Newport's mail, but this...I'd never seen anything like this. I could get in real trouble if anyone finds out I told you but I thought you deserved to know." She says, reaching across the table to pat my hand in a genuine manner.

"I dont know what happened with you and Mr. Landon but he obviously has been keeping tabs on you. And he has pull over most companies. So just...be careful." She warns me. "Powerful men don't think twice about screwing over young women, you know?" She grabs her coffee and purse, then stands.

"Thank you. For telling me." I say and she nods before walking away. Her words kept playing in my mind. Powerful men dont think twice about screwing over young women.

She was right. And I knew it firsthand. Mr. Landon was the man who I dreaded seeing most for eleven months. He wasn't just my boss. He was the man who had sexually harassed and stalked me. And he was also, apparently, the man wouldn't let me forget what saying no could do to my carrer.

Christain Cartwright

Today was not my day. And after the commotion of my wedding, having my new wife move into my penthouse and having last weeks property deal go through at a higher price than planned, I really needed it to be my day.

It started fine enough. I got my morning gym session in without anyone trying to talk to me. Since going to the gym had become my one outlet, ever since everything happened with...her...at the beginning of the year. Pumping iron made me forget that my heart had been smashed. It got out all my stress and agression. That is, until I left the gym and it all returned. But while I was there it made me feel competent and in control. Like a man. So the gym this morning was fine. That wasn't the problem. The problem came later, after lunchtime, when I got a call about one of our properties in Paris. Delayed development, the contractor said. Some problem with getting city passes and it all sounded like bullshit to me. And dad, of course. He wasn't too thrilled to hear the news. Because anything that goes wrong while I'm in the office is a reflection of my work.

"You are not on your A - game, Christian." He had said.

"But this was out of my control."

"Nothing is out of our control. You have had a couple of distracting few weeks. I understand - "

"I am not goddamn distracted. "

"Watch your tone."

And that was how it went. A boat could sink in the Arctic and if I were sitting in my office, he would find a reason to make it my fault. So the gala I was trying to avoid, the one scheduled a few weeks from now at one of our hotels in Paris, now I will have to go to it. So that I can check up on the contractor in person and spend some time 'showing face' around the city. In other terms, showing face meant intimidating others.

"When they dont see you, they dont fear you" is what my dad always says. Not that he is the most intimidating guy in the world. Hell, you wouldn't cross the street if you saw him walking towards you at night. But he is a man with endless artillery and the sense to employ those who know how to use it. So yeah, I learned from the best, I would say.

But the last time I had been in Paris, I was there with the one who messed me up bad. The one who broke my heart. Because we had been there to buy her wedding dress - the one she nearly wore down the aisle, on her way to me.

I had my driver pick me up from the office early so I could try to calm myself down. I was trying to brainstorm if there was any way I could get out of Paris and going to the gala when the car huffed to a stop. We were nearly home, just crawling up 6th Avenue, but the car stopped moving.

"What was that?" I yell to the driver.

"Not sure,boss." He responds and puts the car in park before he climbs out. He goes around to the front of the car and pops the hood. I saw steam through the windshield. I climb out of the backseat, noting the cars and pedestrians around me watching. I put on my sunglasses and walk away from the car, my driver, without another word.

AnnaLeigh

I had left the coffee shop in a daze. If that letter hadn't been sent I would of been working for Mr. Newport. And I wouldn't have needed to accept the arrangement from Mr. Cartwright and I wouldn't be a punching bag for Christain Cartwright. Everything would be normal with my best friend and my family would be proud of me.

I was walking up 6th, almost at 57th, when I spotted the same charcoal Bentley that Christian drove. Well - not drove, but got driven in. I squinted my eyes, reading the license plate. It was his car. And it was crammed between cars, stuck in gridlocked traffic. When I got to the car, I saw his driver pushing and pressing things under the hood.

"Hey," I say. "You need some help?" It took him a moment to recognize me, but then he did.

"What do you know about cars?"

I bent down and pointed to the coolant hose, the thing was so degraded you could see holes in the steel. "The hose needs to be replaced." I say. "But in the meantime, a coolant flush will do. You got any in the back?"

He looked at me like I was speaking Latin. "Probably a blue bottle. It will say coolant on it."

He nods and goes to the trunk, returning a few minutes later with the coolant in hand.

I reach out and grab it from him. "Awesome. Thanks." And I get to work.

And within fifteen minutes we are back at our building. Where I have learned a little more about him, other than him just being Christian's driver.

When he comes around to open my door I ask him, "Do you mind keeping this between us?"

"What do you mean?"

"That I helped with the car. I dont want Christian to...uh...know."

"Why?"

"It just feels...a little out of place, I guess."

"Oh. Okay, sure." He says, his confusion apparent.

"Good night." I say heading right through the doors. I hoped he would keep our secret. Because I knew if Christian found out he would find some reason to chastise me. And I couldnt take any more hostility today. That much I was sure of.

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