Page 97 of Pierced

The doors open and I step out to see Valerie on the move.

“Oh, hey, Val.”

“Hello, Mr. Chevalier. Welcome back.”

“Where you headed?”

“I just have to run and handle something for Ms. Rothschild.”

“Really? What?”

“It’s for the party. She’s really taken over since you’ve been gone, sir.”

“She has?”

“Oh, yes. She has.”

And then she’s gone. K. That was… odd. But then again, Valerie is odd, so…

I stroll down the line of executive offices, nodding and saying hello. I pass by Josh Washington’s office, wave hello and he jumps up from his desk. “Oh, Pierce?”

“Washington! What’s up?” He looks at me curiously. Which is when I glance at the name plate outside his door. Goddammit. “Washburn! What’s up?” Sometimes the best cover is just to pretend the fuckup didn’t happen. Ugh. I really gotta get better with names.

“Uh,” he starts, as he reaches me in the hall, “hey, I just wanted to check… we’re fine. Right?”

“Uh, you and me? Yeah. We’re great. You’re my guy, Washburn!”

“No, no. Well, I mean that’s awesome, thanks. But, no, I mean Le Man. Myrtle’s really been busting my ass to sell space to two new advertisers by day’s end, and—”

“She what?”

“Yeah. She seems to think it’s pretty crucial. And I know you were in New York all week with your dad, so… the magazine’s not in trouble, is it?”

I’m genuinely stupefied by this line of questioning. “Uh, no, man. Everything’s great. So, wait, so Myrtle, my VP of social media, told you that it’s crucial we get two new advertisers by today?”

“Yeah.”

“And—and forgive me, but—you’re the VP of…”

“Ad sales.”

“Right.”

“So, y’know, I just assumed that was a direct order from you because, y’know…” He wags his head back and forth. Here we go. Now that Myrtle and I are together, I’m gonna get this ‘afraid to talk to the boss about the fact that he’s seeing an employee’ head wag all the time.

“Because…?”

“No, nothing. Just… you’re saying the magazine’s good though, right?”

I feel totally challenged answering the same question multiple times. “Yeah, Josh. Everything’s great. I’ll ask Myrtle why… just don’t worry about it. Everything’s great.”

“OK. OK, good. Thanks, Pierce.” He smiles. And as I move a few feet away from him he adds, “Hey! Really looking forward to the party this weekend. Really.” And he winks at me.

What an odd guy. Man, I have some weirdos working here.

When I landed, I texted Myrtle that I’d be here soon, but she didn’t text back. As I’m almost at her office, I grab my phone and check to see if I missed a message from her when I hear a deep, husky, man’s voice say, “May I help you?”

I look up from my phone to see… well, basically John Elway at twenty-three.