Aftermath Book Two Crash Series

Chapter Nine

Aria     

            Hugging the white box closer to my body I’m careful not to damage anything inside but still make myself smaller as Wyatt and I squeeze into the overcrowded elevator. I made snicker pastry bars for Michelle and whoever, if anyone, she decides to share with. She’s not keen on sharing my treats but I made so many and they’re so very dense she’ll have been forced to share. Give me a few brownie points with the staff on his floor.

            And we all know I’ll need the brownie points with the schemes I have planned.

            It only takes one deep breath to tamp down the guilt starting to simmer but I don’t let it fester. Maybe one day I’ll be immune to the feeling but right now I need to be on my A-game. Mason told me only this morning about “our” doctor’s appointment. Something I was very adamantly against going to but backed down when it gave me the opportunity to be here today.

            What I’m quickly learning is that there’s a lot that goes into scheming and a majority of it is personal connections. Today’s target is Edwards secretary. And the best part? I don’t even have to do much work. Wyatt’s on spy detail today, I just needed to get him the opportunity.

            The therapy afterward is just a brief consequence I can grunt my way through. And grunt I will, no way will I sit back and pretend to be happy. Nor will I set the standard that it’s acceptable to drag me to therapy sessions I had adamantly said no to.

            Plus, I have a busy day, something I will be letting Mason and the doctor know. They maybe have twenty minutes of my time because I conveniently have to film in an hour and a half and today, I’m actually going to Darius’ shop where there will be a few contest winners in the audience.

            My stomach rolls with nerves at just the thought, A live audience? That’s next level extraordinary, and honestly, this whole opportunity was never something I could have foreseen. It literally fell into my lap, another benefit from being in Mason’s circles, but I won it with my talent. Probably a bit of my great-for-ratings clumsiness too.

            “Don’t leave the floor until I’m back to his office.” Wyatt’s voice breaks the silence like the first beat of a drum in a still auditorium. He tries to keep it low but everything about him is too…much. His presence is too big to fit in any room., so even with his voice low it vibrates around us and raises a few eyebrows. The elevator doors ding as they slide open and pull everyone’s attention back to their next moments and away from Wyatt’s revibrating voice.

            Shooting him a glare I nod my head as I spread out into the vacated room. The building is tall, and Mason’s office is on the top floor. Surprising now that I know Edward, I would guess he would have taken up the whole first floor for himself alone. Well, that wouldn’t allow any spectators to see him in all his supreme glory. Sitting on his throne in the executive suites of the company he’s slowly destroying.

            Yeah, I take it back, the current floor layout fits him perfectly.

            When the doors open next, we part ways as discreetly as possible. I take one look back to make sure Wyatt still has his own white box before I continue to Michelle’s desk and Mason’s closed door. My chest warms at the sight of Michelle. She’s a typical Boston lady, rough around the edges but loyal to a fault and I can’t help but love that she’s loyal to Mason and I’m working on her being loyal to me too. This works when you have a man that overworks himself and you as a fellow woman know how to pull on another woman’s maternal instincts.

        “Hey Michelle, how are you?” I ask, keeping my voice low and succeeding. There aren’t many offices up here and the floor plan is large and sprawling with tall, opened ceilings and a slick modern feel. It’s cold and slightly intimidating and although there aren’t many people up here there are people and who knows whose ears are listening.

        She doesn’t look up from her computer until I slide the heavy box onto the corner of her desk. Her brown curls bounce with the movement, her brown eyes grabbing onto mine with a wicked twinkle that tells me she has schemes of her own, and I would be stupid to assume otherwise. Oh, this woman has me wrapped around her finger in a silent but mutual understanding.

        “He didn’t mention you stopping by?” She peels back the lid, peeking in at the stacks of chocolate, caramel pastry before reaching in and grabbing the one on top out. With a raised eyebrow she sniffs before taking her first bite and leaning into the back of her seat with a satisfied sigh.

            Shifting closer now that I know she’s in a happy complacent vibe I go in for a tad of information. “How’s he been?” Running my hand down my side I straighten out my black jacket that bunched up on the walk-in.

            “Mmm, His usual cheery self.” She grunts out in between mouthfuls of caramel. “He works too much, going to run himself into an early grave if he keeps it up. Which wouldn’t be good for me, I need a job for a few more years.” She might try and pass off like she doesn’t really care about Mason, but she fools no one.

            “If Edward can clear up this deal with Triple Threat Tech and Transport, he thinks that’ll clear up sometime.” I’m reaching farther than I have in the past, getting a little riskier than I’ve ever been comfortable about and only the dense pastry saves me from Michelle’s notice. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

        I’ve been snooping for weeks now and this company’s name has come up over and over again in any documents I’ve managed to get my eyes on. The fact that they are based over in Ireland and the limited amount of knowledge, reviews, or even photos of the so-called CEOs pulled at my curiosity and instinct. And instead of trying to ask Mason about it I go to Michelle instead.

            She licks her lips as she reaches across her desk for a tissue out of the cardboard box she has resting in the corner. A thick string of caramel sticks to her fingers as she pulls them away from the bar.  “Oh, it’ll be wicked when we can finally move on from them Bastards.” Her Boston accent is so thick at that moment I have to take a second to let the words process before I take another to cringe as she licks the caramel from her fingers.

            She stands when she’s satisfied that her fingers are clean enough, heading towards the middle of the floor and passing other employees. We wave to a few people on our way as Michelle mumbles under her breath. “I don’t know how many more phone calls I can make to these Irish men. Accents so thick I can barely make out their words. Swear I’ll strain my ears, break an eardrum or something.”

            She walks through a doorway into the floor breakroom. It’s spacious and well equipped. There’s everything from a microwave to an air fryer sitting along the counter and a stainless-steel fridge off to the side. “Oh I love an Irish accent, you don’t find it a little enthralling?” I ask as my jaw drops at the sight inside the fully stocked fridge.

            Damn. I should have gotten a corporate job with a fridge like that. Then I remember I can go home to a bigger more exotic fridge that also magically refills itself.  

            She grabs a plastic, one serving size milk from the top shelf before checking the date and cracking the lid. “Damn, the pastries are amazing Aria, but needs a warning label to only eat with a cold glass of milk.” I chuckle but stay quiet hoping to get the conversation back on track without pushing it too hard.

            “The accent might be cute for a second but let me tell you when you’re talking business and it sounds like you’re both speaking different languages it's one big headache.” She doesn’t wait for me or offers me anything from the fridge instead she pivots around and walks us back to her desk.

            “Are you guys close to tying up all the loose strings? I was hoping to get Mason to myself for a weekend soon.” I add on the last bit to tamper any suspicions.

            “Not looking good. Edward keeps throwing up roadblocks, ridiculous and obnoxious headaches that us lonely assistants have to clean up.” She settles back in her chair, setting the milk on her desk and grabbing for her pastry.

            “Really, I thought Edward was the one that brought the deal to the company. You think he would be pushing it through?” Feeling slightly uncomfortable I pick at the bottom of my jacket and a string I see there.

            “Mhm. You know Edward doing whatever he wants regardless of the rules. He’s ramming it through which means there are wholes in the paperwork. Shortcuts the end up doubling the process to double back and undo then redo the screw-ups. This company will be in better hands when Mason takes over.” She mumbles the last bit as she takes her last bite.

            Her desk phone rings the next second which is my cue to leave. As I walk towards Mason’s closed-door I can’t help but wonder why Edward is shoving a deal through so fast and messy? Hopefully, Wyatt can get some heartier information.