The Matchbaker (A Romantic Comedy) (7 page)

My stomach plummets as if I’m on the Great American Cyclone at Six Flags. Everyone chuckles at his off-color joke, which makes me even more embarrassed. Celia laughs the hardest, though, and I toss her an odd look. One would think she’d be on my side, seeing as I’m her protégée. But no…there she is, yucking it up with Señor Chauvinist.

“Um, sorry,” I say as I try to slip into the only empty chair around the table. I want to say that I was never informed of any meeting, but I fear it’ll come off sounding stupid, in a “my dog ate my homework” kind of way. “Won’t happen again,” I say instead.

“I’m sure it won’t.” Clyde gives me a wink, and I’m not sure how to take it. Does that mean he believes me or is he making fun of me? I’m inclined to think the latter. But never mind. I need to focus and get all I can out of the rest of the meeting. I fish my iPad out of my bag and start a new document, ready to take notes.

“So,” Clyde says, addressing the room at large as he clicks off the overhead projector, “are there any questions?”

Everyone looks around and shakes their heads. A few seconds pass while Clyde waits to see if anyone will speak up, and then he says, “Great. Good meeting, everyone. Back to work.”

My jaw drops. It’s over? I’ve missed the entire thing? Surely that can’t be the entire International Strategy meeting? I know it’s my first time sitting in on one, but really, that was it? How could they have said anything truly important in such a short amount of time? I’m dumbfounded and now I’m incredibly nervous that I’ve missed something valuable. But I’m sure Celia will help me. She always takes great notes. I’ll look them over and be all caught up. It’s fine. Just one meeting missed. No big deal.

“Miss Cooper.” Clyde is staring at me from the other end of the table. He, Celia and myself are the only three left in the room.

“Yes, Clyde,” I say, doing my best to maintain professional decorum.

He swaggers toward me, a glint in his eye that makes my skin crawl. “I’d like to see you in my office in fifteen minutes.”

I gulp and look at Celia. Her face is hard, and she won’t make eye contact. I get the feeling she’s not on my side anymore and it makes me uneasy. “Yes, sir. I’ll be there.”

~*~

Clyde’s assistant shows me into the office once I arrive at the appointed time. Wow. I thought my office was nice, but this is insane. You could fit four of my offices into this one room. He has a wall of water that trickles into some kind of invisible reservoir near the floor. It’s illuminated at the bottom with lights that change color from blue to pink to green. His desk is sleek and minimalist, with only a few neat stacks of papers on it and a brand new iMac with a tiny wireless keyboard and mouse. There’s a bar on the other side of the room, stocked with some of the most expensive bottles of scotch, vodka and wine that I’ve ever seen. The fireplace and sitting area make me feel like I’m in a 19th century Englishman’s library. Old definitely meets new here but somehow it works, and I almost don’t want to leave.

Maybe one day I won’t have to. Maybe one day this place will be mine.

“Miss Cooper.” Clyde spins around in his chair, turning from the windows to face me in a dramatic attempt at intimidation. It’s not easy to intimidate me, but this move is genius on his part.

“Clyde,” I say with an air of professionalism as I take my seat in the leather chair opposite him.

“Miss Cooper, I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you properly on your promotion.”

“The fruit basket was lovely,” I put in, even though I’m sure his assistant was the one to send it.

He gives his head a toss to the left. “Care to join me for a drink?”

“Oh,” I say, caught a bit off guard. I don’t usually drink during the day, but when you’re an executive, do as executives do, right? “Sure. I’d love one.”

I follow him to the sitting area. Before he pours the drinks, he flips a switch hidden in the stone mantelpiece and the fire comes to life in the fireplace. He turns at my gasp and gives me a wink.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes,” I say, and I hate that I sound like I’m gushing. It’s not like me to suck up, but after being late and missing one of the most important meetings of the year, I feel as if I should. “Very.”

“What’s your poison, Candace?”

It’s the first time he’s called me Candace. Maybe he’s starting to like me and we can just let this whole late business slide. “Perhaps, um…perhaps you would like to choose for me?” I suggest. I know nothing about the scotch he has and I don’t want to seem presumptuous by making him open an entire bottle of wine just for me. And after the binge in Connecticut, vodka is off the menu for some time.

He makes a show of choosing the scotch and finally picks one with a gold label and a giant 25 on it. “I think you’ll really like this. Aged twenty-five years in oak casks. There’s a high plum note, but you’ll get a lot of chocolate and cinnamon at the back end.” He hands me the tumbler and I’m kind of excited to try the drink. The flavors sound so delicious and warm.

He holds up his glass. “To your promotion!”

I clink my glass against his and take a sip. And then I sputter and cough as I struggle to keep the liquid in my mouth. Oh, my God. Not only does it burn like hell, but I’m sure I look like a complete idiot.

Clyde slaps me on the back. “Not much of a scotch drinker, are you?”

I clear my throat and take a gulp from the glass of water he offers. “You made it sound more like a cupcake. I guess I was just surprised. But it’s good,” I say, and then deciding that’s not enough, I add, “Really, really yummy, actually.”

He laughs, a condescending type of laugh that makes the bad kind of goose bumps appear on my arms. “It’s all right. You’d probably prefer a cosmo.”

I want to tell him that actually, yes, I would prefer a cosmo, give him the finger and walk out, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds. Instead, I laugh and say, “Oh, well, I’m sure I can get used to this in time.”

“Don’t put yourself out, sugar.” He winks at me. I’m starting to get an odd, creepy feeling about this meeting. Especially when he slides onto the couch a little too close for my comfort. “So let’s talk about your new role here at Bell North.”

“Sure.” I sigh inwardly with relief. Maybe he’s just nestling in for a tête-à-tête regarding my new position. “I’m really excited about it. As you might know, I’ve been working my backside off for the last two years, and I’m just thrilled it’s finally paid off. I mean, I’ve been dreaming of this job for so long…”

I break off, and for good reason. He’s turned sideways on the sofa and he’s playing with a strand of my hair with his left hand. I’m fairly certain he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said. “You’re a very attractive girl, Candace.”

Oh, boy. “Ah, thanks. I appreciate that.” What the hell else do you say when your boss starts to hit on you?

“You know, I was little surprised you were so late this morning.” There’s disappointment in his tone now. “But I could probably forget about the whole thing, if…”

I’m going to be sick to my stomach. “If?” I prod, very much against my will.

“Well, that depends on you.” He leans in and plants his lips unexpectedly against mine, and I’m at once enveloped in the cloying smell of his cologne. 

I’m so shocked that all I can do is sit there for a moment. But when he tries to engage in a rousing round of tonsil hockey with me, I put my hands to his chest and shove him off. “What the hell are you doing?” I ask as I jump from the sofa.

“I’m giving you an opportunity to help me forget about the fact you missed a very important meeting this morning.”

I stare at him, my breath caught in my throat, threatening to strangle me. All I can think about is whether or not this was how Celia worked her way to the top. She does love scotch, after all. Did Clyde cultivate that particular love? Ew. I’m struck with a serious case of the heebie-jeebies as I imagine Celia and Clyde in a compromising position. Damn my overactive imagination!

He’s starting toward me. I have to say something. I duck behind the sofa to put a little more distance between us. “Well, I’m happy to stay late,” I say, and then realize how that must sound. “Or come in early!” There. No one expects sexual favors early in the morning. Do they?

Clyde has a twinkle in his eye. The bastard is enjoying this game of cat and mouse, but this mouse is way too smart to let the disgusting, perverted cat catch her. “I had something else in mind, actually.”

“Oh, really?” I’m trying to sound innocent as I back out of the room as quickly as I can in four-inch Prada heels. “Well, maybe you can send it to me in a memo…or an email. Either one is fine. I just remembered Celia needed to see me in her office, like—” I look at my wrist, where I don’t wear a watch “—five minutes ago.” I reach the safety of the door and fling it open, inwardly rejoicing that I’ve almost made my escape. “Thanks for the drink!” I shout, and then I slam it on a not-too-happy-looking Clyde.

I collapse against the door and his secretary, Susan, looks up at me curiously. He must not try to put the moves on her, because she seems completely oblivious to my situation. Of course, she’s also pushing seventy, so maybe that has something to do with it.

“Everything all right, Miss Cooper?” she asks.

Trying to play it off, I stand up straight and tug on my suit jacket. “Just fine, Susan. Is everything all right with you?”

She nods, and then shrugs. “Do you need to schedule a follow-up appointment with Mr. Markowitz?”

“Um, no. Thank you, Susan. I’ll just be on my way.” I nod and smile and then make my way to the elevator. It arrives after an interminably long wait, and I almost jump up and down with glee. But then I hear Clyde’s door open. I don’t dare look back, but I hear plain and clear when he says, “Get me Celia. Immediately.”

Ew. She’s either going to have to finish what Clyde tried to start with me…or they’re going to talk about giving me my walking papers. This is definitely not what I expected from my promotion. Very little seems to be going my way these days.

~*~

It’s five forty-five. My day ends in fifteen minutes. I’m a nervous wreck. Celia’s been upstairs most of the afternoon, and I’m so shaken up over the morning’s events and worried about what might happen, that I haven’t done an ounce of work all day.

I tap my fingers on my polished cherry wood desk. I click “refresh” on my inbox. I bounce my foot up and down so hard that it’s making the rest of my body shake.

I look at the clock, certain it must be six by now, but it’s not. It’s only five forty-seven. How could only two minutes have passed? This is the longest day ever.

Just thirteen more minutes and I’ll be out of here
. Thirteen more excruciating minutes. That’s all.

My phone rings and I jump, knocking my glass of water over. It spreads across the desk toward my laptop and simultaneously drips off the edge, onto my Chanel suit and Prada shoes. Oh, God. What do I save first?

As I reach for my laptop, I glance at my phone to see who it is. Holly. Took her long enough. But I can’t answer now. These shoes can’t get wet.

I swivel my chair so my legs and feet are out of the line of fire, and grab some napkins out of the top desk drawer. I’ve just gotten the water under control when Celia pops her head into my office.

“Candace,” she says, all business-like. “We need to talk.” She walks in and right behind her is a guy I recognize from the HR department.

My stomach plummets. All the work I’ve put into this company and I’m about to get sacked for not giving the boss a blowjob.

“I’ve just had a talk with Clyde, and we feel, based on your performance, that…well, we’re letting you go.” She procures the pink slip and lays it on the desk. I’ve missed some spots of water and it bleeds through the piece of paper. “We’ve both signed. We just need your signature, as well. John will help you pack. I’m going to have security come up to escort you out.”

I can’t believe this. I can’t believe how detached Celia is. I thought we were friends. I thought she’d been pulling for me all this time. I might be getting myself into even deeper water than I’m willing to swim in, but I have to tell her about Clyde.

“Celia, this isn’t fair.” Yes, it sounds childish, but it’s really not fair. “No one ever told me about the meeting this morning, and…Look, I know this sounds far-fetched, but…” I look up. Celia is clenching her jaw so tight, I worry she’ll break all her teeth. I shift my gaze to John, the HR guy, and back to Celia. She probably doesn’t want me to say anything in front of him, but I think he’s just the person who needs to hear. “Clyde hit on me this morning. He said he would overlook my lateness if I…did things.”

There’s silence. Silence riddled with envy. And now I understand completely. Celia’s never been pulling for me; she’s been trying to keep me away from Clyde. Somehow, she’s formed an attachment to the scumbag. But clearly the scumbag will do anything under forty with a decent set of tits. No wonder my promotion took so damn long.

My phone vibrates and both Celia and I look at it. It’s Holly again.

“Candace, whatever Clyde did or said, I’m sure it was a misunderstanding,” John puts in, trying to remain as diplomatic as he can. “You’re being let go because you failed to realize the importance of this morning’s meeting—”

“I didn’t even know there
was
a meeting!” I throw up my hands and let them smack loudly onto the desk.