Page 21 of Pure Abandon

“So how is it going soliciting advertisers?”

She kicks her head back, shrugging her shoulder. “Easy as can be. Once they hear the Asher name, they start opening up their wallets. We have big names acting as underwriters for the concert in the park. I’m trying to work a deal with some silent donors for the gala you’re putting together, but that’s going a little slower than planned.”

“I can help you with that,” I offer, while the waiter comes over to refill our water glasses. I thank him and listen to Malory.

“You have enough to do, you little go-getter. Did you see Heather’s face when you came up with the idea for two events? I was slightly rooting for Asher to give you the concert in the park just to piss her off.”

“Oh, thank God he didn’t. She is one scary woman.” I see my “in” for information. “Did something happen between her and Alexander Asher?”

Malory purses her lips and nods, eyeing me up. “You are a smart girl. I was waiting to see how long until you had everyone pegged. No, as far as I know, she hasn’t gone to bed with him… yet. That doesn’t mean she can’t try. The girl has got it bad!” She lets out an exaggerated groan.

I expel a sigh of my own. I hadn’t realized I was even holding my breath. The fact I’m relieved to know Asher and Heather aren’t together is disturbing.

It is a pretty big office, though. There are plenty of other women there. “Has anyone in the office slept together?” I sound like a schoolgirl.

Malory takes another sip of wine and talks, holding the glass in her right hand, speaking matter-of-factly. “Kevin in production and Trish have been dating for a while. And Gretchen and Harvey had a thing going, but that’s over.”

I nearly spit out my drink at the thought of tied up Gretchen getting it on with... “Heavy Harvey!”

“Oh my God, you have a nickname for him!”

I flush with embarrassment. How rude and juvenile of me. I can’t believe I said that out loud.

Malory doesn’t seem insulted. “I must say that’s a perfect name for him. And the answer is yes, Gretchen and ‘Heavy Harvey,’ as you call him, got down and dirty at a Christmas party two years ago. She was mortified when everyone found out, but it turned out she kinda liked him.”

“I shouldn’t have called him that. I feel bad,” I murmur into my salad.

“Don’t. He’s a fat ass. He’s been grossing me out for years,” Malory says, and I cringe at her words. I said he was heavy, not gross. The man is actually really sweet.

She continues. “And never underestimate people in this business. Everyone sleeps with everyone. That’s how they get ahead.”

I wonder what Malory means by that. Correction: I know what Malory means by that, but is there an underlying meaning? Is that how Malory got to be Vice President? She has come a long way in the two years I’ve been out of work. Then again, she lives and breathes this business. This is New York. It’s no surprise a woman would hold a high title in her thirties. We’re breaking the metaphoric glass ceiling.

But how many people could she have slept with to get where she is today? I’m not naïve. I guess I just have higher expectations for those around me. And I choose to believe Malory is where she is because of hard work.

Malory pays the bill, as she always does, and we head back to the office.

Exiting the elevator, I see the display of white roses taunting me, reminding me of Alexander Asher. They are still thick and blossoming, yet more plush and rich.

Walking over to them, I put my nose to their soft white petals. They smell delicious. My eyes widen at the scent… tobacco and vanilla.

The hair on the back of neck stands on edge.

He’s here.

My spine stiffens at the thought of seeing him again but I turn around to confront the man who has me on pins and needles. Looking about the space of white and mahogany I see there is no one seated in the waiting area and Trish isn’t at her desk. She’s probably in Heather’s office.

Malory has gone straight down the hallway, heading to a meeting, so it’s just me alone in the lobby. Asher is nowhere in sight.

Continuing to look around the room, I follow the scent back to its original location. The flowers. The scent is on the flowers. They smell like him in the most bizarre way.

It is quite possible I am going insane.

Gabriel and I made plans to go to the exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art on Wednesday since he’ll be working this weekend and traveling the next. We hope he’ll be able to sneak out of the office at a reasonable hour.

We haven’t had a date night in months. Any free time he has is always spent with Jackson. I get it. Gabriel’s top priority is his little boy. I love that about him.

We had a great weekend despite my meddling mother being there, but I’m excited to spend some alone time with him.