Competition: It makes life interesting. It forces one to go the extra mile to come out on top. Jordan Young makes a lifestyle of competition, consistently staying at the top of pack at Dimensions ENT, in the rapid fire world of commercial advertising. Jordan is also a player’s player when it comes to the women on the revolving door of his love life. That is, until he has a chance encounter with Chelsea. But Jordan has made enemies. Wyatt Thompson, CEO, WyKnot Incorporated, has a vendetta with Jordan’s name on it. He’s just been handed the smoking gun, his finger on trigger, and aim firmly on taking his arch nemesis down in a whirlwind of shame, disgrace, and dismissal.
He had ten minutes. In those ten minutes he needed to prepare himself for one of the biggest pitches that he would deliver. Jordan Young made it happen at any cost. He didn’t get to the fortieth floor office for nothing. In his three years with Dimensions ENT Advertising Group, he quickly climbed the ladder and gladly kicked off anyone weaker. He would make it to the top. This one account would take him there.
Jordan glanced over the notes that he made on the post-it and stopped halfway. He was set to pitch his idea to some of the highest paid execs of the biggest shows on television. Before he finished his idea and closed down his projector, the ink would be drying on the contracts. He smiled and closed the folder. He almost hated to brag. He was the best. He could talk a snowman into a tan making it sound like the best idea ever. He inherited his silver tongue from his father; probably one of the only good things that he received.
Jessie Young was one of the major hustlers from the streets; controlling and regulating everything from pimps and ho’s to the drugs that came on his territory. When Jordan was old enough to hold his own, Jessie made sure that his son knew everything that he needed to take on the family business. Jordan started from the bottom and worked his way up, slanging and pushing until one day he saw his father gunned down in the very streets he ran. There was no one left but his mother, Lena, and sister, Jessyka.
He always saw the strain that his father brought onto the family; the dealing, the late nights with who knows, and the constant arguing with his mother. Jessie would argue that he was providing for the family the best he knew how. It was something that he knew that his mother couldn’t refute because the kids had food on the table, clothes on their backs, and just about anything that they wanted. She couldn’t deny that he was providing; just that she hated the means.
The night that his father ended up dead, Jordan knew that he couldn’t follow in his footsteps. He dropped the game, ended up at Stillman College, and got his degree in English. It was just chance that he stumbled upon an internship at Dimensions ENT, who were looking for a motivated person with sales experience for the one spot left open. He knocked out all of the competition and from where he sat there was a lot more room to move.
Jordan stood up grabbing the charcoal gray suit jacket that draped over the back of his leather desk chair. He slipped it over his shoulders and grinned as the tailor made jacket fell directly into place over his biceps. He kept his body fit by going to the gym at least three times a week. Appearances meant everything. As he looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror, he rubbed the neatly trimmed goatee and smoothed his hand over the deep waves of his Caesar cut. The women flocked to him and he gladly accepted each one of them. With skin the color of roasted almonds, dark brown eyes, and a body like a pro athlete, he heard on more than one occasion what celeb he resembled. He knew better, because he looked superior.
Jordan chuckled to himself as he buttoned the top button of his suit jacket and walked over to his desk. He carefully put the portfolio in his briefcase and walked out of his office down the hallway to the boardroom. He felt good. By the end of his presentation, he would feel one hundred times better.
***
Jordan walked into the conference room where the four executives from the show Paranormal waited. He shut the door pulling the blinds on all the glass walls that separated the busy little bees in the office from the room full of potential clients. Jordan wasted no time. He knew they were busy and if he didn’t charm them right off the bat, he would lose them to another company. He wasn’t having that. There was only one other company that could sway these men the way he could, the man behind them the last one he needed to make the big deal.
Jordan took time to watch a couple of episodes from the latest season of the show to get an idea of what Dimensions ENT could do for them. He didn’t expect to watch the whole season. He liked it and the content was good, but viewership was starting to slack. That’s why they were here. Jordan stood at the head of the table placing his briefcase in front of him. He opened his suit jacket to reveal his lavender silk shirt.
“Gentlemen, good morning. I’m glad that you all made it safely from California. Let me be the first to say congratulations on being renewed for a thirteenth season.”
Murmured thank-you’s greeted him as he pulled the swivel chair out and took a seat.
“Now, let’s just get right down to business, huh?”
He flashed a reassuring smile around the room and pulled out the portfolio from his briefcase.
“Paranormal has been on air for years now. We’ve kept steady viewers and now we’ve become stagnant. What can you and the Dimension’s team do for us,” a ruddy faced, heavyset studio executive opened up the questions.
“Well, sir,” Jordan stood and walked over to the projector that was set up for him.
He turned it on and connected it to the laptop computer on the shelf behind the projector screen.
“I have a few ideas that I think will capture more viewers for your show. I mean, the problem isn’t the viewers you already have. You want more. I can tell you with the ideas that I have, you can bet that you’ll be renewing for two more seasons.”
Jordan flipped open the portfolio, pointing out details that went along with his PowerPoint presentation. The executives were following along. He could see them passing around approving glances, and he continued. He turned the page and saw the most important page of his presentation was missing. He spent all night perfecting this portfolio and here was a missing page. Seconds passed and he could tell that the Paranormal executives were wondering what he was leading to. Just as quickly, he pulled a solution out of his ass. The next few weeks while the cast filmed on set in California, they would pick one viewer who correctly answered a fan question about the previous episode and record a personal message that would air at the end of the episode next week. Viewers would have to tune in, watch, and participate. A win-win for everyone involved.
The executives seemed to buy into the idea. He finished the presentation without the execs noticing anything was wrong. He took his time walking around, shaking each of their hands, and thanking them for coming out. He escorted them out of the boardroom and to the elevator where they disappeared behind the silver doors.
Jordan saw red as he walked back to his office and slammed the door. He could have completely fallen flat on his ass in the conference room. If it wasn’t for his quick thinking, he would be out of a job right now. The executives loved his ideas and signed the contract without another thought. He scanned over the project again, wondering where he went wrong and what happened to the missing page that held his real idea. He liked what he came up with in front of the clients, but he hated to be unprepared. It was unprofessional. You came with your shit and you came right. Thinking back, the only time that this information even left his possession was when he sent his secretary to the printers to make copies for the clients. Somewhere between her desk and the printers, she lost the page that could have cost him his career. He angrily punched in her extension and waited for her to answer.
“Yes, Mr. Young?”
His assistant tried to sound professional but failed as she cooed into the phone.
They shared a past and since he cut her off, she was trying everything to get back into his bed.
“Can you come into my office?”
Jordan hung up before she could answer and reared back in his desk chair as he waited for the door to open. Almost as soon as he hung up the phone, Crystal, his secretary since he started, walked into his door. She was a five seven beauty with a drop-dead body. She never approached his desk; only stood at the door with her manicured hands folded in front of her.
“Is there something that I can help you with, Mr. Young,” Crystal asked as she saw the irritated look on his face.
“As a matter of fact, there is.”
Jordan leaned forward and placed his folded hands on the desk.
“You do realize that today I had a very important meeting with some very important people?”
“Yes. I do. I hope that everything went well.”
Crystal gave a little smile hoping that he was going to thank her for her work in making the deal.
“I closed the deal if that’s what you’re asking. My concern is, while I’m in the middle of this especially important presentation, I find one of the most important key points missing from it,” his eyes seemed to burn a hole into her. “Care to explain?”
“I’m sorry. Everything was there when I took it to the printers. I looked it over myself.”
“Well, apparently you didn’t look it over hard enough. My ass was on the line and you almost made me out to be a fool. I said guard it with your life. To make sure that it got back here the same way that it left here, and you didn’t make that happen.”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t happen again. This isn’t your first incident where something like this happened. You’ve been slacking for quite a while now. What am I supposed to do with that?”
Jordan sat back in his chair bringing his hands up into a tent in front of him.
“I swear I’ll be more careful in the future.”
Crystal could feel her heart start to pound while she tried to keep her tears from falling. This was the last thing that she needed. She portrayed the life with her friends that she wanted, but in reality, she was way behind on all her bills and losing her job now would land her right on the street.
“I’m not taking that chance. You cost me time and most importantly, you almost cost this company a lot of money,” he pulled himself back to his desk and pulled out his next project folder. “I’m going to need you to get your things and be out of your desk before noon. You’re fired.”
Crystal stood stationary as she looked at him continue to work as if he never said a word. She could see the course of action happening in front of her eyes like pictures in a photo album. The lost job, being kicked out on the street, and she didn’t have a place to go. Her options were few, but if push came to shove, she could probably room with one of her girls after she concocted some bullshit excuse for why she got kicked out. She was planning when her thoughts were interrupted by his voice.
“Now, Crystal. You have an hour.”
She nodded and wiped her eyes while she whispered a sorry in his direction. She turned on her heels and walked out of the office, quietly closing the door behind her.
He dropped his pen as the door closed. He hated to be so hard on her. Truth be told, she was a hard worker. She completed her work but constantly seemed to miss something. This wasn’t the first time that he was forced to work on a whim. Today was the last straw. He needed someone that was going to be dependable and not leave him working any harder than he already was. Jordan picked up the phone and dialed the extension to the main receptionist of Dimensions ENT.
“Ms. Wallace, this is Jordan Young. I’m going to need you to set up a few interviews for me. I just let go of my secretary and I’m going to need a new one as soon as possible.”
Ms. Wallace was an older woman that he looked at like his grandmother. She was quiet and always greeted visitors with a smile. She was efficient and he knew that if she was asked to do something it would be done right.
“That’s not a problem. I can set up some interviews for you tomorrow. Is that okay?”
“That’s perfect, Ms. Wallace. Please call and tell me the interview times so that I can fit them into my schedule.”
“Absolutely. I’ll have them before you leave for the day.”
“Thank you, Ms. Wallace. You’re a life saver,” he smiled.
“You’re welcome,” Ms. Wallace said before laughing and disconnecting the call.
He started working on his new assignment; a movie ad that needed to be ready before next week. There was no doubt that by the end of the day tomorrow he would have the perfect person for the job.
Chapter 12
Deion closed his office door, loosening his tie and taking a seat behind his desk. His mind was on Chelsea and their romance, or in his determining, the lack thereof. What was he doing wrong? He picked up certain vibes from her that she was at least interested in him, but for whatever reason he couldn’t seem to get past first base with her. The kisses shared no more than the perfunctory goodnight peck on the cheek and it was beginning to really depress him. He concealed interest in the woman for months, garnering any little bit of information he could from Wyatt when they would talk about her. Is there someone else? The question came managing to send his mood into an even darker shade of black. Come on Deion, you’re better than this man, his mind told him of his attempts to gain Chelsea’s affection. Deciding he better step his game plan up a few notches, Deion opened his rolodex and searched for the restaurant in mind. He was still planning internally when the knock on his office door disturbed him.
“Come in,” he called out still absently searching the mini index cards before him.
Shanelle walked inside and took a seat in the chair directly in front of his desk, patiently waiting as she watched him continue to search for whatever he sought. Plucking the small card from the massive stack some three minutes later, Deion placed it on his desk before raising his eyes and regarding his assistant.
“What’s going on Shanelle,” he questioned amiably.
“My conversation with Crystal today,” she began skillfully as Deion’s interest was piqued.
“Oh really now, and what was that like,” he questioned, reclining in the chair, fingers steepled.
Shanelle chuckled a bit, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable before continuing.
“She says she filed a sexual harassment lawsuit against Jordan, and an EEOC suit, alleging that her refusal to continue their sexual relationship resulted in her termination.”
Deion smiled fully, taking in what the woman was telling him.
“Is she ready for the hailstorm that’s going to happen once Jordan gets those papers?”
He definitely hoped that Crystal would have the fortitude to see it through.
“She knows,” Shanelle returned. “But his dismissal of her and the baby they created, I think will fuel her fire well enough.”
Deion’s mouth dropped.
Wait, did she just say…, what the hell?
Shanelle chuckled again.
“Mmhm, that was my reaction too.”
“So she’s having a kid from him?”
Shanelle shook her head yes.
“She’s about four months along, with no intentions of aborting, or letting him off the hook.”
Deion smiled again.
“Damn, he picked the wrong one this time. Okay well keep me posted Shanelle.”
He ended the conversation, still needing to make the dinner reservations.
He was also planning to call Wyatt and give him an update. He was pretty sure the news would make the man’s day.
“Are you leaving soon,” Shanelle questioned as she stood to leave him.
Deion glanced at his cell, noticing it was well after 9 P.M.
“Damn Shanelle, I’m sorry, go home,” he told her apologetically.
Normally she remained until he left the office in case he needed a file or something urgent required to go out.
“It’s fine,” Shanelle told him, holding his office door open. “Good night.”
Standing on the other side of his now closed office door Shanelle sighed deeply, chastising herself for not telling the man inside how very attracted to him she truly was.
***
Ixotic remained very much unsettled as Wyatt came inside, smiling, and gave her a short hug. He called earlier saying he wanted to talk her and that it was important. Since the call, two hours ago, her nerves imagined every horrible scenario, recalling their every interaction to search for any offenses she may have unintentionally committed. Of course she continually came up empty, which did nothing to help her achieve calm.
“You want a glass of wine,” she questioned being hospitable.
Truthfully she wanted to point blank ask him what he wanted and make him spit it out. The suspense was doing a number on her.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Wyatt returned still smiling a bit.
She returned the gesture and went into the kitchen.
Ixotic heard him getting comfortable on the sofa as she removed the cork from the bottle and poured them both a liberal glass of the deep burgundy elixir. Please don’t let him say he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore. Not sure why he would, but scared, nonetheless.
“Here we are.”
She forced herself to stay light handing him the glass and sittingt on the other end of the sofa.
“I don’t bite Brooklyn,” Wyatt teased of the gesture.
Another nervous laugh, she moved closer to him and sipped her wine.
Wyatt took a sip from his own glass, setting it on the coffee table they sat in front of him.
“How was your shoot?”
“It went really well, even with Delange on set,” Ixotic answered, relaxing just a little.
Work was safe territory. Wyatt chuckled at her reference to the high strung photographer who always made crazy demands on set and threw wicked tantrums when they weren’t met.
“When’s your next shoot,” Wyatt questioned drinking a bit more of the wine.
“Not for another three weeks thankfully,” Ixotic returned, actually needing the break.
She found herself working non-stop for the past six months. She was exhausted.
“That’s great, gives you a chance to relax, and we can hang out a bit more.”
Wyatt dropped the words trying to feel her out.
“Wyatt, you don’t hang out,” she tossed back, not wanting to show her excitement at the idea. “WyKnot is your mistress.”
Wyatt smiled a bit, before regarding her seriously.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about tonight.”
The nervous feeling returned full force and Ixotic put the glass down so he wouldn’t see her hands shaking.
Deciding she would let him unburden himself without interruption, and still terrified this would be the last night she saw him, Ixotic remained quiet. Wyatt reached out taking both her hands, looking into her eyes.
“Brooklyn, we’ve been cool for a long time… You’ve been there through some really dark and rough patches for me, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”
Ixotic gave him a small smile at the words spoken. He began speaking anew.
“You know how I felt about Brina, and how her death devastated me.”
Ixotic took a quick breath, not realizing she subconsciously held it.
“For a long time I’ve been trapped in that place, stuck, not going forward or back, just stagnant…”
She nodded, but still didn’t speak.
“Well something clicked for me the other day.”
The conversation with his father returning to his consciousness.
“I’m sorry Brooklyn,” Wyatt spoke softly.
“Sorry for what, Wyatt,” Ixotic finally questioned, wholly confused.
“I’m sorry for being so caught up in dying, that I forgot to live. I’m sorry that it took me this long to realize how attracted to you I am, and how much I enjoy you being in my life.”
Ixotic blushed.
“I promise, if you give me the chance Brooklyn, I’ll make it up to you.”
He pulled her closer holding her in his arms.
“I forgive you Wyatt.”
She began stroking his face relieved she wasn’t alone in the sea of emotions she felt about him.
“And I think I would enjoy you making it up to me,” she finished their lips meeting.
Fully occupied, Wyatt never felt his phone vibrate beginning the promised task, removing Ixotic’s top, her soft moan filling his ear.