She decided that she’d call Emory as soon as she had a spare moment and fix things so the nagging ache in the center of her chest would go away. She grabbed her keys and bag and headed for the door to her apartment. She’d just have to find a way to get through the afternoon.
“Please wait.” She turned at the sound of the voice. Emory sat on the couch looking up at her helplessly, lost. “I don’t want to fight.”
Sarah let her bag fall, a spark of relief flaring in her chest. “God, I don’t either.”
“If you’re happy, I should be happy. Sometimes, I try to micromanage and I shouldn’t have done that today. I just want things to be easier for you, and instead I made them harder. Ignore me.”
Sarah sighed and sat on the arm of the sofa next to Emory, offering a tired smile. “I could never ignore you, even if I wanted to. You’re stuck with my attention, I’m afraid.”
“Even when I’m overbearing?”
“Can you imagine how much I must like you?”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
Emory took her hand and squeezed. “So go to work and forget I was a headstrong idiot. Maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll call me later and let me know when I can see you again because I really want to see you again soon. You know, redeem my good name?”
She leaned down and kissed Emory’s temple. “I will most definitely call you. I can think of all sorts of ways you can make it up to me. Creative ways.” That earned a smile and Sarah’s heart did a little backflip.
Back on track, she thought to herself, back on track.
*
It was a slow day at Global Newswire, but then mid-quarter Tuesdays always were. Trevor was busy with client mail outs and most of the account execs were out on presentations. Emory picked up the phone, seizing the slower pace of the afternoon.
“Wanna come over and see how a press release makes its journey?”
Sarah paused on the other end of the line. “Are you offering me a tour of your office?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Can you swing it? How are you ever going to understand how to properly market that up-and-coming business of yours without a little hands-on coaching in PR? Plus, that means I’d get to lay eyes on you, which, you know, is kind of the whole point of this phone call.”
Sarah checked her afternoon appointments while Emory waited. “I have to meet my designer, Samantha, at the Miller house at four o’clock. But I have time before. I can be there in a half hour.”
“Perfect. Give your name to the receptionist and she’ll call me when you get here.”
An hour later, as the elevator opened onto the forty-fourth floor, Sarah found herself in a rather impressive looking lobby. It became clear to her that Global Newswire inhabited the entire floor of the office building. Three elegant couches were arranged in the center of the large room with a marble coffee table in the middle. In the corners, towering vases of fresh flowers were each showcased with dedicated accent lighting. A coffee station stood to the right with a stainless steel carafe and every kind of flavored creamer you could imagine. Near the far wall stood a dark oak reception desk complete with a beautiful looking woman behind it.
“Welcome to Global Newswire,” she said in the most soothing voice Sarah could imagine. She was smiling but carried an elegance befitting the rather impressive room. She couldn’t help but smile at the sharp contrast to her mother’s elderly receptionist, Marjorie.
“Sarah Matamoros to see Emory Owen.” The young woman eyed her for a moment, the smile never leaving her face.
“Do you have an appointment with Ms. Owen?” She turned to her computer screen and began tick-tacking away on her keyboard.
“Yes and no. She knows I’m coming, but I don’t think you’re going to see it on your calendar there.”
“I’m afraid you’ll need an appointment. Ms. Owen is very busy and hasn’t made any note of your meeting.”
“Would you mind giving her a call?”
“If you’ll be so kind as to take a seat, I’ll see what I can do.” The smile was no longer quite as warm. Sarah did as she was told, but took out her phone in the process and shot off a quick text message. “Your receptionist thinks I’m trying to infiltrate Fort Knox. Help?”
It was only a moment before her phone buzzed in response. “Well trained, that one. On my way.” Emory appeared shortly and whisked Sarah through the thick oak doors that led into the world of Global Newswire. The receptionist, whose name turned out to be Leslie, apologized profusely, much to Sarah’s guilty pleasure.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Emory said.
“Are you kidding? And miss the chance to see the empire you spend day and night constructing?”
Once inside, Sarah was surprised to see that the posh elegance of the lobby was reserved for essentially that, the lobby. The inner office of the company looked more like a working newsroom with few frills.
A series of several dozen workstations dotted the large open space with private offices flanking its perimeter. “These are the editors,” Emory said, gesturing to the rather bookish looking individuals at the workstations. They stared, entranced, at a series of codes on their computer screens. “Once a press release has been sent to us with instructions on who’s to receive it, the editors code the transmission before sending it over the wire through our satellite links. The codes tell the press release where to go. It’s also up to the editors to proof the release. If it’s transmitted with an error, we have to issue a correction, which is a huge strike against us in the industry. We try to avoid it at all costs. This office is currently error free. I can’t say the same for the Dallas office, however.”
“What happened in Dallas?” Sarah was incredibly intrigued by the process.
“Five errors in six months. I’m travelling down there next week to implement a new training program with one of my editorial managers. I’ll be letting two of the editors go while I’m there.”
“Wow. Doesn’t that upset you to have to tell them they no longer have a job?”
“It’s just business, and a necessary part of running a company. Haven’t you ever had to fire anyone from Immaculate Home?”
“Once for stealing, but that seemed unavoidable. When someone underperforms, we always try to make them better.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
Sarah considered this. “We find ways to compensate for the weak link, I guess. I just can’t shake the knowledge that they have families to support and kids to put through college.”
“I can’t consider those kinds of things. In fact, I never have.”
“I guess I’m a softie then. Now show me your office so I can ooh and ah at how important you are.”
“I like the sound of that. Right this way.” They strolled down the hallway to Emory’s corner office and paused outside next to the desk of a very serious looking young man with flaming red hair. “This is my assistant, Trevor. I think you’ve spoken to him on the phone once or twice.” Trevor stood and extended his hand politely. “Trevor, this is Sarah, my girlfriend.”
Trevor’s eyes widened in delight. “Well, in that case.” He reached out and pulled Sarah into a warm hug.
“All right, all right, that’s enough. Let the girl go.”
“It was nice to meet you, Trevor.” Sarah laughed, following Emory into the office. Once inside, she took only a brief moment to scan the spacious room before turning back to face Emory. “Do you think we could close the door for a minute?”
“Okay.” Sarah had an indiscernible look on her face that made Emory uneasy. “Is everything all right?”
Once the door clicked into place, Sarah closed the distance between them until she stood in front of Emory. “You just called me your girlfriend.”
It had seemed second nature to Emory and she realized now that it shouldn’t have. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I should have asked if it was okay. I just figured because you didn’t know Trevor—”