Sentient

Sentient: Chapter Eight

 I knock at Mr. Cavanaugh’s doors before entering. He signals me to come in and I do so. 

“Another late night, sir?” I ask, placing a fresh cup of coffee on his table and a muffin. 

I gotta admit, Mr. Cavanaugh and I share really good chemistry when it comes to work. It’s only our second day together but there haven't been any problems. He’s really amenable to everything I say and a really good listener. He asks questions about stuff he didn’t get. Plus, he caught up with everything fast. 

He looks up at me and responds, “Just finishing some loose ends. Did you see the new proposal I sent you?”

 “I did.” I say, “I sent it back with some notes based on the same prototype we had last year and I think it’s a suitable upgrade. I also sent you the dossiers from our previous products for the past three years. I can get you anything older than that if you want, sir.” 

“No, that would be fine for now.” He says. “I’m almost done here anyway. Are you ready to go?”

“I still have to finish printing your schedule for tomorrow Sir and then I’m off.”

“Let’s go together.” He says. “I’ll have Darius drop you off.”

I blink in surprise. “That’s fine Sir. I actually kind of like the cab ride home.”

“No refusals, Ms. Edwards.” He says, going back to his computer. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”

I excuse myself before going out of his room. I quickly print three copies of the timetable for tomorrow and then shut down my computer. I do a quick dab of powder and lipstick and arrange my desk accordingly, waiting for Mr. Cavanaugh to come out. 

I guess it’s okay if I catch a ride home with Mr. Cavanaugh. My apartment’s kind of the middle point from the office to his house so they wouldn’t go out of their way. Plus, Christie has a date, which means she can’t give me a ride tonight. 

“All set?”

I nod and turn the lights off my desk. He gestures to me to lead the way which I do, and heads to the elevator. As we ride, I try my best not to remember my little incident here this morning but fails miserably, which results in my cheeks growing hot by the second the entire ride. 

Darius is waiting by the car, in a hand-on-hand position, like he’s waiting for someone to attack and he’ll be ready to pounce. I greet him hello, which he reciprocates and attempts to open the door for me but Mr. Cavanaugh stops him and opens the door for me on his own. 

“After you,” He says, smiling gently. 

I hesitate for a moment before thanking him and sliding in. Darius immediately steps up and helps him keep the door open.

“Darius, I told you I don’t like repeating myself.” He says in a mild manner. “You drive. I can open the door for myself.” 

“Old habit, Sir.” Darius replies. “Apologies.” 

He unbuttons his suit jacket before sliding in beside me. 

“How long has Darius been working for you?” I ask Mr. Cavanaugh, leaning slightly into him with my voice barely above a whisper. I don’t want Darius to hear that I’m poking around about him. 

He leans slightly towards me too. “Not long. He was my Mom’s chauffeur, until she decided I needed him more than she did. Not true, though.”

I stifle a laugh and sit upright back again. 

“Oh, that’s right.” This time, it’s his turn to whisper. “Do we have anything on Friday?”

I do a quick recall of our schedule for the week and find nothing important on that day. At least, nothing I couldn’t handle. There’s only a very little list of possibilities as to why people ask if they have something scheduled on a certain day, and very often, it’s because they already have something in mind. And since it’s my boss asking, I’m going to try and make it easy for him.

“Nothing important sir.” I answer. “There’s a meeting then with the venue for the dept retreat, but there’s no need for your presence. I can verify it on my own.”

His brows crease. “Isn’t that supposed to be the Human Resources’ job?”

“Mr. Sandmoore liked to personalize the retreat a little, that's why he assumed the responsibility for it every year. I helped him last year and I’m helping this year too.”

“Just you and Alan?” He asks.

I nod in response. “Yes.”

“You mean, there’s nobody helping you since he left?”

I smile at him. “It’s fine, Sir. Everything’s already set, except for the venue which I have yet to see on Friday. Hence, it’s nothing important.” 

“Where’s the venue?” 

I purse my lips. “Vermont. It’s a Lake House that Mr. Sandmoore and I saw when we were at a conference there last year. It’s really nice sir, I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t come.” Mr. Cavanaugh says apologetically. “There’s an important matter I need to attend to.”

Patty’s engagement is on Friday, which is why I scheduled the venue check the same day as that so that my travel wouldn’t be wasted and I’d be hitting two birds with one stone. Venue check for the retreat in the morning, God-awful family party in the evening. So I guess Mr. Cavanaugh’s not coming with me is a good thing. 

“Is there anything I can help with, Sir?” I offer.

He smiles forcefully and looks away. “It’s a personal matter.”

I nod and do the same. I turn my gaze toward Darius, our eyes meeting at the rear-view mirror, who returns it thoughtfully—like there’s something he wanted to tell me, but then I cut it off. 

It’s a personal matter for my boss, it’s none of my business.