The Alpha's Pursuit

Chapter 3 - Parker's P.O.V.

The company listed on the schedule has used our firm several times. Adler LLC purchased a property located right on the edge of the Canadian border, near The Boundary Waters. After reviewing the records, I noticed that the construction resembled a small town.

This new project is more expansive than our previous ones. It will be a significant undertaking for our modest corporation.

Surprised by his request, I questioned my employer, who confirmed that Mr. Adler, the CEO, insisted on being present at all meetings. This would be my first meeting with the company.

Shrugging in acceptance, Mr. Thomas Braxton explained that this involvement made him an excellent leader. The employees admired and respected him for it. The word "employees" came out stammered, but I swore he started to say something else. A stuttered pa—and then he changed his mind. Letting it go, I accepted his explanation.

The previous builds Adler commissioned consisted of unique random buildings around the outlined area, such as shops, homes, and—the last construction—a school.

The types of businesses did not seem unusual to me. The strange part is that they purchased this land in almost total seclusion. Like damn near in the center of the woods.

Would it be the site of the next Waco?

Shuddering with worry, I hoped I would not be held responsible if it turned out to be true. Mr. Braxton and I needed to have a conversation. The complexity of these construction contracts baffled me.

I shook my head, reconsidering the entire strange arrangement, and let out a sigh.

“Not my monkey, not my circus,” I whispered to no one.

Do we have circuses with monkeys anymore? Huh, I’ve never been to a circus before. Oh well.

After getting out of bed, I went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. I planned to arrive early for my appointment to organize all the necessary items. I needed to arrange the calculations and spreadsheets onto polished letterhead. This month, our business tripled, leaving us overwhelmed with paperwork—not just for Adler LLC but for several other clients as well.

I considered working over the weekend, but I decided that first thing Monday morning would be sufficient. There may be last-minute changes, and I would hate to have to reprint everything. From my past experiences, I've learned that having to redo everything is incredibly frustrating, so I wanted to avoid that headache.

Binding the hard copies and downloading the electronic version to the company's tablets remains on my to-do list.

After being hired, one of my first projects involved encouraging Mr. Braxton to embrace modern technology.

Larger companies may overwhelm us with more attractive bids, but we have managed to remain competitive. International Falls is not so small that technology has passed us by, so I decided to order a few iPads for the office. I admit it’s a small step forward. While Mr. Braxton called me a genius, that wasn’t true; he was simply too easy to please or impress.

The tablets would enable us to email signed documents to the client within seconds if they accept our bid. I also had paper reports available if they preferred them.

The fact that Mr. Adler was demanding his attendance surprised me. In my usual work routine, I met with project managers and engineers, but meeting with CEOs made me anxious. I worried that my lack of experience would become apparent, which could undermine their confidence in us as a company.

Other men attended the introductory presentation in his stead. Something about other important matters requiring Mr. Adler's presence. Due to his previous absence, I included copies of the necessary completed documents from that appointment. RFI (Request for Information) along with the RFP (Request for Proposal) and RFQ (Request for Qualifications) so he can catch up.

Shame settled in, but Mr. Adler and my boss, Mr. Braxton, have been friends for years. f**k it. Mr. Braxton loved my suggestions and fresh perspective, so I forged ahead. Besides, I’m educated in accounting, not in administration or IT.

Why should the size of our company or my inexperience embarrass me? These individuals must understand this fact before reaching this stage of the bidding process.

Mr. Braxton welcomed my contributions during meetings and invited me to participate in all of them after a couple of months of employment. I don’t feel comfortable bragging, but I can confidently say that people tend to connect with me easily, despite my introverted personality.

After a refreshing shower, I blow-dried my dark brown hair and put on my business attire. I particularly enjoyed working with clients who preferred a Teams call over an in-person meeting. On those days, I would wear jeans and dressy sweaters, with only my polished face and neat tops visible on screen. The COVID era felt like it was a lifetime ago, and in-person meetings were making a comeback.

Grumbling, I moved toward the walk-in closet. Wearing a dress ranked high on my list of most hated tasks. One hand sifted through the hangers of clothes while the other formed a fist.

I picked out a black pencil skirt and a red V-neck cross-wrap blouse, but I couldn’t help but scowl. I knew these items would be uncomfortable, which put me in a bad mood. With a hint of frustration, I grabbed a pair of strappy wedge heels to complete my outfit.

My hair was pulled into a high messy bun; I applied some light makeup and spun in front of the mirror before nodding in approval.

Swiping the thick, midnight-rimmed glasses off the bathroom counter, I perched them on the bridge of my nose. The eyewear lent me an intellectual if slightly nerdy, appearance that I hoped would convey my seriousness.

My dark blue eyes, flecked with violet hues, attracted too many comments, making me uncomfortable. Chunky or colorful frames often diverted attention away from my irises.

It may sound silly, but it's true: when I wore glasses instead of contacts, I no longer received the same attention.

At one point, I bought plain brown lenses to wear for high school, college, and nightclubs. With a rare eye mutation, I was able to hypnotize those who favored eyes as their favorite feature. It was flattering, for sure, but over the years, it lost its appeal. The fascinated stares began to border on annoyance.

To clarify, I used to go dancing at bars, but I no longer find it appealing and cannot fit it into my hectic life. My social life has since diminished under the weight of my workload.

Back then, I wanted to rejoin my peers and possibly meet someone again. I did test the waters for a while. After turning 21, I partied for six months.

The fear of running into Nick faded the more alcohol I consumed. However, one night, I thought I spotted him in the corner of a crowded club. As I struggled to crane my neck for a better look, my panic rose when he suddenly vanished. That marked the last night I ventured out for over a year.

The parking lot of Braxton Construction accommodated 20 cars in the front and another 20 at the back of the building. I parked my car in the back, arriving before everyone else.

Preferring to park at the back since that was the entrance to my office, I carefully stepped out of my small vehicle. A smile crossed my face as I noticed the entire building was dark and empty. The peace and quiet welcomed me as I turned the deadbolt and dropped my purse on my desk upon entering.

The coffee brewed as I enjoyed a breakfast bar from home. Wiping crumbs off my shirt, I uploaded all necessary files onto the tablets.

As the final process was nearing completion, I printed the forms and the folders I had created with our company logo.

As I played with a loose strand of hair from my bun, I swayed my hips to the music while the equipment hummed and churned out sheets into the dispensing tray. The documents were collated, stapled, and bound as I bounced on my toes, lost in my own world.

My shoes lay tucked under my desk after I kicked them off to enjoy an impromptu dance party. The footwear, also known as devil’s creations, cut off my circulation after half an hour, so I took immense pleasure in discarding them.

My favorite music app blared from my phone as I sang along while I waited. Thank goodness no one could hear the dying cat-like sounds coming from me as I belted out lyrics to Journey and Richard Marx. My mom had introduced me to her love for 80s ballads.

The simple circular clock on the wall showed that it was half an hour before Mr. Braxton's arrival. The client would be brought in and introduced 30 minutes later. With a bit of luck, we would win the bid and secure his business.

Noticing that I had plenty of time left, my mood brightened. The thought of my favorite coffee shop, just five minutes away, excited me. Perhaps I could grab another mocha before the meeting. As Foreigner's "Waiting For A Girl Like You" began to play, my smile widened—it's one of my favorite songs.

The machine hummed to a stop, and I bent down to pick up the finished copies. As I straightened up, my back stiffened, and I felt a shiver run through me as a rumble echoed from behind. Turning slowly, with a sense of cautious apprehension, I faced the source of the growl, my heart pounding against my ribcage. Oh, f**k!