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3
Oden
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Home of three powerhouse sports teams, a surplus of bridges (most of them painted an eye-catching golden yellow), and the best brand of ketchup to ever exist. Not a bad place to spend at least the next eight weeks. Not bad at all.
In the baggage claim area of the Pittsburgh International Airport, I found a chauffeur holding a sign with my name on it. I didn’t break my stride as I nodded curtly at him and led the way outside. That was kind of my thing: leading.
The chauffeur jogged to catch up to me.
“May I take your bags, sir?”
“Thank you, I’ve got them. Where are we parked?”
He nodded at a shiny black Audi parked a few feet away. I walked briskly toward it, and seconds later, we were pulling off.
I spent the next half hour answering half a dozen emails on my phone before prying my eyes away from the screen and glancing out the tinted window. The skyline view of downtown Pittsburgh was as impressive as ever. Behind the yellow bridges, some of the taller buildings, like the UPMC skyscraper and the US Steel building, dominated the scene.
The spring sun bounced off the murky waters, waters which were comprised of three separate rivers that intermingled in this modern, unique city.
“Beautiful,” I murmured.
“Indeed,” the chauffeur agreed with a distinct note of pride in his voice. Pittsburghers loved their city and were quick to let it be known.
It was early on a Monday morning, so we hit a bit of traffic on our way to Oakland. I checked my Rolex and grimaced. It was pushing nine o’clock, and my introductory meeting with Gayle Walsh was at a quarter to ten. I despised being late.
Leaning forward slightly, I said, “We’re going to have to go straight to Underthingz Lingerie Co., instead of stopping at the hotel first. I don’t want to be late for my first day of work.”
“Yes, sir. We’re actually not that far away, so even with this congestion, we’ll arrive within the next forty minutes.”
I nodded. “Very well.” I kept my eyes on my Rolex, timing the driver. He had exactly forty minutes to get me there.
To my delight, we arrived in twenty-five minutes, sliding into a parking space directly in front of a newer-looking, but moderately sized building. The nondescript grey paint and plain concrete slabs created a rather drab look, which I think was done on purpose. True, it was a racy lingerie company, but it was located in a respectable business district. No sense in displaying the latest line of thongs on a mannequin in the window.
Holding my door open, the chauffeur said, “I’ll be waiting to take you to your hotel once you wrap up here, sir.”
“Excellent. I shouldn’t be more than two hours, if that.”
He nodded just before I walked away. I buttoned my suit jacket as I entered the building, wanting to look professional. A pretty, blonde receptionist checked me in then directed me to the elevator bank, but not before she advised me to get off on the third floor, where Gayle would be waiting.
Sure enough, when the elevator doors slid open, a waifish, middle-aged redhead stood outside them.
“Oden Matthews,” she said, grinning widely and extending her hand. “What a pleasure to finally meet you.”
We shook hands.
“Likewise, Gayle. Likewise. Although, I must admit, with all of our emailing and phone conferences, it feels like I’ve been working with you for a long time already.”
She chuckled.
“It does. Something I think will make your transition that much smoother.”
I smiled in response.
“Shall we head back to my office for a brief chat? Afterwards, we’ll pop in on the Monday morning meeting, and I’ll introduce you to everyone, including your team of models and marketing admins.”
“Let’s do it,” I replied enthusiastically. I’m sure Gayle thought my excitement was work-related, but it really wasn’t. It was because I was one step closer to meeting her.
