the keyboard.
I shouldn’t have been on seven.
My to-do list for the day was longer than my arm.
I’d rescheduled a call.
Renata was going to murder me soon.
I’d wanted to see her reaction. If the note had made her smile. Instead, I witnessed what looked to be a special moment between her and Miles then received a terse email.
I wrote back.
From: [email protected]
Dear Ms. Levy,
Please refrain from calling me Mr. Aldrich. That’s my father.
Do you hate elephants now?
Curiously,
Weston
It didn’t take long for me to receive a reply.
From: [email protected]
Dear Mr. Aldrich,
I don’t hate elephants. Only a sociopath would hate them. I’d simply rather not receive Post-its with facts on them anymore. Isn’t that a waste of company resources?
Indifferently,
Elise
I growled to myself. Elise was fifteen feet from me, typing away on her computer like I wasn’t in the room. She’d spent years ignoring my existence from afar, but up close was harder to deal with.
From: [email protected]
Dear Ms. Levy,
Is it the Post-its that offend you or the elephant facts?
Please note I requested you not address me as Mr. Aldrich. I’m neither a stranger nor old enough for it to be required.
Thoughtfully,
Weston
She stopped typing and used her mouse to click on my email. It only took a second for her lips to purse and her forehead to crinkle. Then she started typing again, and a thrill shot up my spine, anticipating what she would send next.
From: [email protected]
Dear Boss,
The only thing I’m offended by are the trees being chopped down to make the Post-its you wasted.
Do your investors know all the time you spend googling elephants?
I have a lot of work to finish. If that’s all…
Busily,
Elise
I tapped out my reply, vowing it was the last one. I had to retreat to my office to get actual work done. There was no chance it would be happening here, where distractions abounded.
From: [email protected]
Dear Elise,
Please note my objection to being addressed simply as “Boss.” You could be addressing anyone, as it is not specific to me.
You’ll be pleased to know all the paper used at Andes, Inc. is 100% recycled. No trees were harmed in the writing of said Post-its.
Environmentally,
Weston
Elise continued typing for several minutes. The entire time, my eyes flicked from her to my screen. I nearly gave up and retreated to my office when my email notification lit up.
I clicked on her message.
From: [email protected]
Dear Grumpy Boss,
Is that better? Anyone reading this would know I was addressing you.
I am extremely relieved for the trees. Still, the Post-its are unnecessary. Ages 10-13, I spent studying elephants and have retained everything I learned.
Expertly,
Elise
I bit my lip to hold back a laugh. Grumpy Boss. Only her. She told me once I was Elliot’s grumpiest friend. It hadn’t seemed like an insult, merely an observation.
From: [email protected]
Dear Elise,
I’ll inform human resources of the change in my name. It may cause some confusion, but in the end, cutting to the chase will be much more efficient.
On a different note, what did you have to discuss with my brother in the stairwell?
Notably,
Weston
From: [email protected]
Dear Grumpy Boss,
Can you also report to HR that my boss is prohibiting me from getting my work done? If you send your name change and my complaint in one email, your efficiency level will rise exponentially.
That is between Miles, the stairwell, and me.
Have a good day.
Conclusively,
Elise
Though Elise was done with this interaction, I still wanted an answer. I started to formulate a reply when Renata sent me a message through the internal system.
You have a call in five minutes. If you’re not up here to take it, I’m officially taking over your position. I’ll have you know, I’ve always thought Andes should start using more polyester. Like leisure suits. That will be my first decision as CEO. Disco wear.
I grimaced at her threat and shut down my laptop. I’d played around enough. I was responsible for too many livelihoods to loiter on the seventh floor, waiting for a glimpse of a smile from a girl who could barely deign to acknowledge me.
It was six on a Friday. Most of the staff had left for the weekend. I was sitting at my desk, catching up on work I’d neglected the past two weeks.
Distracted.
That didn’t happen often.
In fact, my single-mindedness had ended several of my relationships, including one with a woman I had almost gotten engaged to. Women had told me even when I was with them, I was at work. My focus would stray. The truth was, when it came down to it, Andes had always been more important to me. They had been right to leave me.
Yet, here I sat, mountains of responsibilities, and I wasn’t even attempting to take any of it on. While I should have been returning calls and going over a cost analysis report, I was watching a recording of the security feed of the seventh-floor stairwell.
No sound.
I could only imagine what Elise and Miles were saying to each other. Intense. Emotional. Miles looked serious for once in his life. Elise passionate.
I’d watched it several times, and it always ended the same: him hugging her, her melting into him and hugging him back.
There was no possible way they were a couple.
But why not? They were the same age. Elise was beautiful. Miles…well, he had his charms which seemed to land him women by the droves. Why wouldn’t they be interested in each other?
Disgusted at myself, I hit the keyboard.
The recording started over.
I watched it again.
