Another One Bites The Dust

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"Anna... Anna. Anna!" A voice calls out to me breaking my train of thought.

"Yes?" I respond barely giving the intruder my attention.

"Did you hear what I said?"

In my experience, if someone responds to you only after saying their name several times, they might not have been listening to you the entire time. Such was the case here. And considering the voice belonged to my exceptionally obnoxious secretary Sheila, I wasn't too keen to keep listening anyway.

"No, I didn't hear what you said," I replied with a hint of annoyance lacing my words.

"The new lead publisher is coming here today. Is his name Alexander something? He asked that all managers be in the conference room before he gets here. Just a heads up."

Well, sometimes she wasn't obnoxious.

"Thanks, Sheila. I'll head there once I finish this email."

"No problem Miss Boss Lady." she had drawn out the s to make a hissing noise through her teeth. There's the obnoxiousness.

I gently rolled my eyes toward the computer trying to refocus on the email that I had just been writing. I was engrossed in the banter I had created with one of my new writers. So much so in fact that I completely forgot about the meeting with Alexander Breighton. I was finishing up when I heard Sheila through the intercom.

"Anna, the meeting is about to start. You better hurry if you want to try to make it on time."

"Shit," I mutter to myself.

I try to make myself look half presentable. I tuck my blouse back into my trousers, Pull my chestnut brown hair back into a messy chignon, throw on my heels and run straight for the conference room.

"Wait!" Sheila screeched

"You forgot all of the new writer bios you need for the meeting."

"Shit. Shit. Shit." I mutter under my breath as I round back to the desk to retrieve the files.

As I round the corner, I slam into something, hard. I was completely caught off guard at this structure that felt as though I had slammed into a wall of concrete. As I fell to the floor, papers flying everywhere, I was even more perplexed as this new wall gave a low chuckle.

"Are you okay?" the concrete wall asked.

As I look up, I am made aware that this, in fact, isn't a concrete wall at all. It is actually a very well tailored man. Wearing a look of what I could only assume was concern, staring down at my now extremely disheveled figure.

"Mam, Are you okay?" He asks again. It has now come to my realization that I have just been sitting there, staring, for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. Sorry about the um, running into you." I manage to say through my embarrassment.

The same low chuckle rolled through the air.

"Mam. I think you're worse off than me. No need to apologize." With that last sentence, he shrugged his shoulders and walked down the hall to the conference room. I wait till he is a safe distance away before turning to Sheila.

"Who the mother of fuck is that?" I question her in a loud whisper.

Sheila rolls her eyes, "Don't you read any of the emails I send you? That's the Alexander, whatever guy. He's your new boss."

My embarrassment is almost palpable. What a way to restart my life. I can't seem to get anything straight.

I collect my things and head straight to the conference room. I am still quite frazzled as I take my usual seat near the head of the table. I am forever grateful that the meeting had yet to start. At least I could spare myself some embarrassment in not being late. I become engrossed in re-reviewing my new author's bios. Making sure that I am prepared for any questions thrown my way. There is the usual chit-chat in the conference room continuing in a low hum. The people near me don't think that I am listening when they keep whispering about my unkempt appearance. It sounded as though one of them said something about me maybe trying to make a better effort with the new boss coming in. Truth is I don't frankly give a shit. What does my appearance have to do with my work?

I glare in the direction of the woman who made the comment, and she quickly averts her eyes. Suddenly there was something on the drapes across the room that had piqued her interest.

The place was gradually growing quieter as people were preparing themselves. I suddenly felt eyes on me and warm breath stretching across my cheek. Someone was close, uncomfortably close.

Without looking up from my paper I say, "Can you please take a step to the side, you're much too close for my comfort." With that, the warmth disappears. I sigh a breath of relief until I hear someone loudly clear their throat to my left, where the heat was coming from.

"Alright, if everyone can turn their attention towards me we can commence this meeting."

I glance up towards the voice and realize it is coming from Alexander. Standing directly to my left, where the person who was making me uncomfortable was standing before. I pale as the puzzle pieces in my brain fit together. He was that person. Once again I had managed to embarrass myself. I try to distract myself from this torture but to no avail. Everyone in the room is looking at me. Their expressions vary from sympathy to annoyance as I realize I am the reason why the meeting was getting off to a late start. I can feel my facade deflating, so I resolve myself to staring at the wall past Alexander so I won't have to make eye contact.

The meeting continues as my attention slowly starts drifting back to my author bios. I'm reading through Arthur Wentleys bio, the pretentious prick when I am snapped back to reality by someone saying my name.

"Anna, Mrs. Devins? Are you with us." Alexander repeats.

I cringe at the mention of my former surname.

"The name is Ms. Christianson. Not Mrs. Devins. I apologize for being lost in my thoughts. I've been..." I take a moment to scan the room once again noticing all eyes on me. "...a bit distracted."

As I finish my statement, my eyes finally land on Alexander. He seems rightly annoyed, but there is something in his eyes akin to... concern?

"Well if you can readjust your attention we are going over your new authors and your numbers for the past year. I am doing my best to get caught up to speed." He proceeds to overemphasize every time he says your, to make sure his point lands. Boy does it.

"Once again I am sorry. Please continue."

"Alright then... Ms. Chrisrtianson."

The meeting continues without a hitch, and with each passing minute, more eyes are making their way off of me and back onto Alexander.

As the meeting closes and I am heading back towards my office. Someone grabs my shoulder from behind, and I instinctively flinch. I wheel around and nearly smack into the same concrete wall of a man as I did earlier.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ms. Christianson. I was just hoping to catch a word with you. Are you free for a few minutes?" Alexander asks.

"Yes but I only have a few minutes. I have several meetings set up for the rest of today with some of my new writers. Some of them are more... needy than others."

I struggle to open the door to my office, papers threatening to fall from my hands onto the floor.

"Here, let me." Alexander reaches past me brushing his arm against my shoulder. Once again I flinch from his touch papers now cascading to the floor.

"Oh. Fuck!" I say under my breath.

"You really have a foul mouth don't you." Alexander states.

I peer up at him as I start collecting my papers from before. He kneels to my level and starts trying to collect the papers.

"Please don't, it's okay really. I have the bios in a specific order, and I prefer they don't get fucked up. To answer your rhetorical question, yes I do have a foul mouth. I'm pretty sure we are both adults so watching my language isn't particularly necessary." As I finish my last sentence, I stand up and walk into my office leaving Alexander still squatting on the floors staring at me dumbfounded. He stands up and brushes himself off. Making his way to the marron couch in the corner. He sits down with a hefty sigh making like he plans to stay a while.

"Please make yourself at home," I say sarcastically as I take my own seat behind my desk.

"Are you always this... unpleasant?" He asks.

"Yes and quite frankly people have stopped asking me questions a long time ago. So if we can get to the matter at hand here. What is it you would like to speak with me about?"

He shuffles on the couch now uncomfortable with my blunt approach to this conversation.

"Well, I came to talk about some of your new writers. I would like to distribute some of them to other editors in the company. I need you to step up more to the role of Head Editor. I need all heads of the company of board. You won't take on any new writers. I will take three of your new writers as well as giving you more responsibility for team morale. You will need to fix whatever attitude this is, or we will be renegotiating your contract is that clear?" Alexander stares straight into my eyes. Trying his best to be intimidating and failing, miserably.

"Let me tell you something Mr. Breighton. I understand that my attitude can be off-putting at times, but I am a damn good Editor. I make the highest numbers in this office. I am the first here and the last to leave. I apologize for anything you may have considered rude, but I frankly don't think to take my writers from me is in your best interest. If you honestly believe that you need to disperse my writers than please allow me to chose who goes and who they go to. If they hear that this is my doing, there may not be as much of an uproar. That's all that I ask."

It's at this moment that I take my first real look at him. Taking in his swept up hair down to the furrowed brow that I can only be held responsible for. His eyes are focused on his hands as he thinks my proposal over. I could even dare to say that with the broad shoulders and well put together look he was quite handsome. But not in a real obvious kind of way. I stop staring as he makes eye contact with me.

"I'll tell you what Ms. Christianson.." I cut him off.

"Call me Anna... please."

"Okay, Anna, I will give you one week to get this situation settled. If this isn't taken care of by the time this week is up, then I will take over. Have we come to an agreement?"

"That sounds like a deal, Mr. Breighton. I will have the full report on your desk on Friday morning. Now can you please leave so I can start my meetings for today? Unless there anything you would like to discuss?"

I stand to open the door. As I am making my way over, he catches my arm.

"Please, call me Alexander."

The shock of him grabbing me after all of the other touchings as rendered me motionless. After what felt like an eternity of his hand on my arm I nod.

"Okay... Alexander. Feel free to stop by when you need my door is always open."

I pull my arm from his grasp and open the door signaling that this very uncomfortable meeting has come to a conclusion. I don't understand why I told him that. My door is always closed. I only speak with people when they have made an appointment and for a good reason. I am still on guard. Today I have slipped more than I have in the past year so why has this gotten to me so much? Why has this new entity caused me to slip up? Not now, not when my life finally has some normalcy.

He exits to the hall not before sending a casual wave to Sheila who is chatting away with someone on the phone. For being someone who never separates herself from her phone, she is one hell of a secretary. Annoying but hard working.

I close the door and let myself unravel for one second. Just one moment in time will I allow myself to break a little. I slide down the door thinking of the name he had used. Devins, my husband's name. One I hadn't heard in a very long time. I pull myself from the ground and refocus my energy on placing these writers. I can handle this project, I'm just not so sure about the new boss. As I head to my desk, my head becomes slightly clouded by the look in Mr. Breight... Alexanders eyes. The look in his eyes was searching for something. Hopefully, I never give him the chance to find what he is looking for. The way he asked me to say his first name. As though it may hold some weight with me, left me with more questions about him than answers. For the first time in a long while, someone has piqued my interest, and I will find out why.

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