Page 4 of Objection
When I brought up the opportunity to David, however, things took a turn. He was not a fan of that idea at all. We went around in a circle about it, and I finally dropped it. According to David, it was a recipe for disaster for a woman to work for a man, alone, with no other staff. I understood where he was coming from, but at the end of the day, there was still that spark of excitement at the possibility of such a job.
“What’s got you all distracted?” Sandra teased, peeking around the wall separating our desks.
“Nothing really,” I shrugged off. I didn’t need to be talking about this, especially not here.
“Lies. Truth time. Spill the tea!” Sandra pushed. She was a sweet woman, about ten years older than me and had taken me under her wing when I first started here. She had worked for Jack for years and she seemed completely comfortable here. I suppose that’s what some people wanted; to be comfortable in their career. Not me. Just the thought had me feeling antsy for something new, something more.
“Just trying to decide if the price of excitement is worth it,” I mumbled under my breath. Granted, Sandra had bat ears, apparently.
“Honey, you’re young. Get the excitement where you can, while you can. Be safe, but live. Dear god, I can’t stress it enough, live.” Sandra’s words echoed around in my head for the rest of the morning. I was glad for the lighter workload today because I was completely preoccupied with what I should do. Finally, just before lunch, I made my decision.
Dear Mr. Wellington,
I apologize for the late response, but I would like to take you up on your offer to meet and discuss possible employment opportunities. I will make myself available for your earliest convenience.
Thank you,
Posey Adams
I didn’t have to wait more than five minutes for a response.
Ms. Adams,
I accept your apology. Please meet me at Crema at 1:45 p.m.
Cordially,
Soren Wellington
I looked at the clock, I had about twenty minutes to be there. If I was going to be on time, I needed to go make my excuses now.
“Hey, Sandra, I need you to cover for me. I’m taking a lunch out today and I’ll be back later, okay?” I explained, turning my computer off and gathering my things.
“Don’t tell me Dave the Caveman is actually taking you out for a lunch date!” Sandra exclaimed on an excited whisper.
“No, nothing like that. But I’ve got to do something. I’ll be back later. My cell is on if you need me.” I made my way out of the office and down the elevator. The building was large, and it took a minute to get out of here. Crema wasn’t far away, but it was a bit of a walk. I just needed to get there on time. In the wind. In downtown Chicago. During the lunch hour. Piece of cake, right?
* * *
I wasbreathless by the time I made it to Crema, having had to bob and weave my way through the bustle of people returning to work. I checked my watch for the tenth time. 1:45 p.m. Good, I had made it on time. My eyes scanned the small cafe until I spotted the impeccable navy-blue suit of Mr. Wellington. I loved that suit on him. Maybe that’s weird to say, but he wore that suit well.
Plastering a smile on my face, I made my way to him, dodging patrons hastily making their exit.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wellington,” I began, sitting down across from him finally.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Adams.” he greeted. I could tell by the look he gave his watch; he was perturbed that I was one minute late. One minute. Really? One minute and he had obviously seen me walk in on time.
“Mr. Wellington, good afternoon” I responded with as much kindness as I could muster.
“Let’s begin, Ms. Adams. Have you brought your resume?” He hadn’t looked up at me once, his eyes trained on his portfolio in front of him.
“Yes,” I answered, pulling the folder from my purse and handing him my resume.
“Thank you.” He waited to look at it, instead, fiddling with the tablet wrapped in a beautiful leather case. I resisted the urge to literally twiddle my thumbs. Here he was getting on to me about timeliness and he was dicking around on his tablet? The sheer will it took to not roll my eyes was astounding.
“I see here you have been with Farley, Cooper, & Upton for five years. Prior to that you graduated, oh —” he cut off , looking up at me in surprise. “You graduated from Brown?”
I hid the smug smirk from my face, choosing professionalism.
