Slip and Slide
(For klarosummerbingo. Prompt: "water park." Rated T)
Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it's the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. "Hold the elevator!" she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.
She hadn't been that loud, and she's nearly late for a critical meeting. It's the first one with a new client, and she'd hate to make a bad first impression.
She'd had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn't that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.
She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, "Take a breath, Ms. Forbes."
She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. "Sorry. I'm just…"
"Stressed? I can tell."
Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn't mean her hair has exploded.
She smiles weakly, "Big day today."
A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline's comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.
Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. "Good luck, Ms. Forbes," Alfred murmurs as she passes.
It's a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone's rooting for her.
She's relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn't recognize him, but that doesn't mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He's dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. "Thank you so much," she says to him, turning so they're shoulder to shoulder. "You're a lifesaver."
The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He's stoic, eyes forward, but she's sure there's a hint of amusement on his face.
An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. "Feel free to ignore him," the man who'd held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she'd be charmed by the accent if they'd met in a social situation.
Or any situation, if she's honest.
"My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker."
Huh. She hadn't have figured brothers. They've both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline's head swings back, "Are you a trouble maker?"
His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.
Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.
"I'm about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?" His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.
Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn't changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she'll run into this guy again.
"I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I'm almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character."
"Not the trusting sort, are you?"
Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.
He laughs briefly, "Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I'm meeting. I'm stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?"
"Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts."
Dimples' brother chimes in again, dry this time. "I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant."
Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they're almost on her floor. "If you're going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that's a mistake."
The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. "This is me. Thanks again."
The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline's reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.
She still glances back at the elevator, can't help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.
Even if she never sees him again, he'd made her morning a little brighter.
Now, though, it's time to work.
Fifteen minutes later, Caroline's pacing in her office. She's pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she'd picked up at the dry cleaners. It's a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket's boxy, and she's wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There's a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she'd changed into sensible flats.
She'd learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she'd been the project lead. She'd been called 'Honey' and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She'd received skepticism when she'd introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master's in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.
Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she'd usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.
Expertise that's kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn't have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.
Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that's less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline's choosing to believe her. It's even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she's pitching on will be built in Spain.
Being project leader, she'd traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn't carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline's seen.
At the very least, it can't be a worse experience. She hopes.
She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. "What are you wearing?" Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. "Is this polyester?"
"Maybe. I thrifted it."
Katherine's face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.
"Ew, why?"
"Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me 'sweet cheeks.'"
She'd been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn't have cried into her Ben and Jerry's quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.
Kat snorts, "Elijah Mikaelson would never. He's aggressively polite. I haven't spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent."
That's a new name. Caroline doesn't like surprises. "And who is Niklaus?"
"A brother. And a business partner. He wasn't originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?"
Caroline's eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?
Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?
There's a tap at the door, her boss' assistant's head poking in, "They're ready for you in the conference room."
Ugh. Maybe she's cursed.
The presentation goes fantastically.
Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don't seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can't grasp complex concepts. They'd shaken her hand when she'd arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they'd been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He'd said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus' assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.
Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it's Caroline's turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she's incredibly pleased with her innovation.
She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).
They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She'd done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.
She thinks Klaus' handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she's just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.
She kind of hopes she isn't. It's probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can't she?
Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat's disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.
She replies to a few emails before she notices one that's just arrived.
Hello Caroline,
I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.
Warmly,
Klaus
She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn't imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he's barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she'd usually attempt at this point.
If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn't, well… she's only fostering a good working relationship. That'll be essential if they land this contract.
And she's like 90% sure it's in the bag.
Hi Klaus,
Thank you!
The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I'm excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.
Best,
Caroline
P.S. Thanks for the cookies.
His reply comes minutes later.
Caroline,
I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I'm sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.
Warmly,
Klaus
P.S. You're welcome. Which coffee order was yours?
Well, that's the opposite of a bad reaction.
Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She's reasonably sure she's not doing anything that's prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She'll double-check the firm's code of conduct.
Just in case.