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009 - Walk With Me

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• Andrea •

***

“Now that’s how you know a badass consultant. A thirty-day reset? You called off Marilyn’s relationship the other day. How exactly do you do all of this?”

“Oh... please, Kylian. I’m just being realistic. His partner tagged his care and constant attention as suffocation. I only want to know who’s wrong.”

I paused, squinting slightly at him. “I call it the Quiet Decompression Phase.”

Kylian cackled loudly, drawing embarrassed glances from nearby tables.

“Keep it low,” I muttered, nudging him with my foot.

We were at the cafeteria for a quick lunch break and between us sat a tray of rice, grilled chicken, and two unopened bottles of soda, barely touched. We only had a few minutes before resuming our duties. I grabbed my fork, taking a small bite.

“You are actually the bravest newbie this company has ever had. When Vanessa was here, she would do anything to stay in Mr. Bradley’s good books,” Kylian continued, his gaze drifting over the employees walking in and out.

“I’m Andrea, not Vanessa. And I believe delicate matters need deliberate solutions, especially when it concerns people’s hearts.”

“That’s the confidence I like. I always wanted to push boundaries too. Kylian said. “But what can a marketing associate really do other than sell the dream? I handed you that flyer weeks ago, remember? Talked up the app like it was changing the world.” He gave a dry laugh.

“This company sticks to rules. And most times, when something goes wrong, the employee pays the price.” He tapped his fork lightly against his plate.

"What price?" I asked, too curious to know what he has to say.

“In the two years I’ve worked here, at least ten employees get fired every month.”

“Surprised much?” he asked, munching on the chicken in his mouth.

I tried to stop gaping. “That’s ridiculous.”

Kylian rubbed his palms together before dropping them on the table. “Very ridiculous, Andrea. But we’re always ready to welcome new replacements on board.”

He flashed a smile I didn’t find cute, and I went quiet. Quickly, he ducked his head, studying my face.

“I didn’t say that to scare you—”

“I’m not scared,” I cut him off, downing the rest of my soda.

I don’t think Kylian believed me, because he chuckled under his breath. My response had been genuine. My only fear was going back to hunting for jobs across New York, pretending I wasn’t desperate. That would frustrate me to my bones even if the issue of mass terminations was just a phase.

“So… how are you getting on with making new friends? Or am I your preferred company?” Kylian asked on a lighter note.

“Keep dreaming. If my best friend were here, she’d probably strangle you for saying that.”

We both laughed.

I looked ahead, only to see the receptionist giving us the death stare, fiercer than the one she had thrown at me on my first day. People like her made it hard to make any friends. Her face looked like she had just spotted the last slice of cake she wanted - and it happened to be Kylian. She grabbed an energy drink from the counter, strutting out. I rolled my eyes.

“Look. Isn’t that Marina?” Kylian asked, diverting my attention.

I watched her through the sliding glass doors quickly descending the steps. She carried a box, flipping her hair as she dumped it in the boot of her car. A cardboard box only meant one thing.

I quickly turned to Kylian who smirked in agreement.

“It’s the third day of the month, and Marina’s the first to get kicked out of the company. That’s a milestone, congratulations to her,” he said, raising his drink in the air.

"That's not funny, Kylian."

“Yesterday she acted all high and mighty as Mr. Langston’s Personal Strategist, only to get kicked out today?” he stated.

I sighed, and just then my smart band buzzed.

"Finally time to get back to work." I muttered.

A chime followed from Kylian’s cellphone and then mine. He was quick to glance at his, before I dipped my hand into my bag to retrieve mine.

“It’s a broadcast message,” he said.

I unlocked my phone, reading the content inwardly:

“Please note that Marina Prescott is no longer with the company. We wish her well in her future endeavors.”

I lowered my phone. Kylian’s eyebrows were raised, but he didn’t comment further.

“Well,” he said finally, in a tone more observational than sympathetic, “Time’s up. Back to the grind.”

I nodded, slipping my phone back into my bag. “Right. Let’s get moving.”

He gave a playful smirk and turned toward his workstation. I went the other way.

“Ms. Thompson,” a voice called out the moment I started to stroll forward.

I looked up to see Mr. Bradley standing there, hands clasped behind his back.

Kylian threw me a brief questioning glance before returning silently to his work.

“You’ve got a minute?” Mr. Bradley asked.

“Sure,” I replied, a bit unsettled.

“Walk with me,” he requested.

We fell into step side by side, passing through the low partitions separating each consultant.

“I hope lunch was satisfactory?” he asked.

“It was.”

I was beginning to feel a flutter of worry inside. He needed something. Why was it taking him so long to get to the point?

“I won’t take much of your time,” he continued, smoothing the front of his jacket as if he had read my mind. “Your recent case results have been reviewed.”

“I see,” I said, trying hard to mask how awkward it felt.

“Is there an issue?” I asked, hesitating.

“Yes.”

He didn’t say anything else. I joined my hands together, mildly scratching the back of one.

“With a client?” I asked.

“No. With your position,” he replied. “Our firm values consultants who demonstrate initiative under pressure so you have nothing to worry about, Ms. Thompson.”

“But,” he continued, “your approach has drawn attention.”

I looked at him. “Is that a concern?”

“No.”

Everywhere went silent again.

“You’ve been reassigned,” he eventually revealed, stepping aside slightly, as though shifting the weight of what he was about to say. “You will no longer be handling general conflict cases.”

My brows lifted slightly.

“Yes,” he affirmed, meeting my eyes without blinking. “You’ll be Mr. Langston’s personal strategist, effective immediately.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. In my head, I kept asking why me?

Mr. Bradley pulled out his phone in a flash.

“I’ll inform Mr. Langston that you’ve accepted,” he said.

“Mr. Langston,” he continued smoothly when the call connected, “I’m here with Ms. Thompson. She’ll be handling your account personally moving forward.”