Trigger
"We need to talk, Missy," says the authoritative voice of my boss, Heather Morrison, as she breezes into my office in her immaculate perfection. As the CEO and Editor-in-Chief for Morrison Group, one of the biggest lifestyle brands in the country, Heather dresses the part very well with her long silky and super straight blond hair, crisp white shirt, skinny ankle pants, high heels and square reading glasses, she is the epitome of what her company is like – classy and effortless. Heather was once an IT executive who founded a lot of start-up tech companies, nurtured them for success, then selling them to the highest bidder. She is good at what she does; make money, lots of it. Technology was something she is very good at, but it was never her passion. So she worked and saved enough to finally focus on combining her real passion which is fashion and all things media. Heather wanted a successful women-owned lifestyle and media company and she got it. And I'm extremely lucky to be a part of it.
"Oh, so I'm Missy today, am I in trouble?" I reply in mock worry. Heather likes to call everyone names. The names differ depending on her mood. I for one, being her favorite person in the world (according to her) have several names. I am Ana, when she's all motherly and caring and generally in a good mood. She also calls me, Steele or kid, when she's excited and bossy, which happens almost all the time. Today, I am Missy, because I'm in a little bit of trouble, nothing serious, though. And like any other mother hen, she calls me Anastasia, if I'm in really deep shit.
"Not to me," she replies breezily as she gracefully takes a seat right in front of me. "We'll get to that trouble in a bit," she adds dismissively which is fine by me, because this means it's a no biggy.
"Please don't tell me you're setting me up with your guy friends again," I guess in horror. Yes, I've been single for a while but after a failed relationship in Seattle and after everything that I've been through after Seattle, I really have no time to mingle. Mind you, I tried. I am, after all, anything but a saint. Unfortunately, none of them panned out. And being a sucker for a challenge, my boss, yes, my boss/mentor/older sister/friend has tried setting me up with all, if not, most of her male friends. So far, none of them worked-out. Except for Brett who I've become good friends, instead of boyfriend, much to Heather's disappointment.
"Uhm, no. I've given up on you ages ago," she smirks. I met Heather at a convention in New York, three and a half years ago, when I was still working for Seattle Independent Publishing, which later became Grey Publishing. I was assistant to Mr. Roach at the time and happily living in Seattle. But when the happy part changed into a must get-out of Seattle part, and I decided that it's time for a change, and that change is to move to New York, Heather was the first to welcome me. She offered me a job and which I gladly accepted. I started as Heather's personal and executive assistant, which was the only job opening at the time. A year later, she promoted me as editor at the lifestyle division, then a year and a half later, about six months ago to be exact, she promoted me to head the fiction department at the publishing division.
"Gee, thanks. What's up?"
"Ana, ask me about Hamptons, please?" she says excitedly. As the CEO of a multi-million dollar company, Heather has money, lots of it. She's owns several properties all over, some of them are in New York. She has a Penthouse in Manhattan with Central Park views, her current fortress. She still has her first apartment called, single-lady on the Upper East Side, which she's renting to me for peanuts and of course, her newest baby, a summer place at the Southampton.
"Hi Heather, any news about the Hamptons?" I say sweetly.
"I'm glad you asked, Annie, my newest baby will be done in three weeks."
"Oh, yay! Congratulations, Heather!"
"Thank you, you and my little pot-sticker are invited to the grand reveal next month. I want you to personally write the feature for the next issue of the lifestyle magazine and I want you to contact your photographer friend, Jose and see if he can take the pictures that we can use for the article," she says, sweetly, while firing instructions left and right.
"I'm no writer," I try to tell her and she of all people knows it, but the severe look of my boss' face has me backtracking, "Yes, I'm an editor. Just don't expect the article to be immaculate like you."
"That's the spirit," Heather smugly replies. "Now, about your misdemeanor, Missy," he smug tone morphing into disapproving. See what I mean? Three seconds ago, I was Annie, now I'm back to Missy.
"Yeah, what is it anyway?" I say wearily, mentally recalling if I did anything bad recently. Nothing… that I am aware of.
"You need to take a vacation," she says dryly.
"What? You're suspending me? Is it that bad? What did I do anyway?" I say, panicking now. Shit!
"No, silly!" Heather's girly laugh made me relax a little. "HR went to me this morning with a list of employees who hasn't touch their accrued vacation hours and yearly vacation perks the company provides for free and guess what, you are on top of the list," she finish, her voice laced with disapproval.
"Oh… so… how does that count as misdemeanor?"
"For someone so smart and works for me, I might add, you can be very thick, Ana. You haven't taken even a day of vacation for two years and you know it's against company policy. We're a lifestyle and media company. Do you know why the word lifestyle goes first before the media?"
"To promote ones well-being," I say, sounding more like a two year old getting scold by her mother.
"Correct. That's why it's mandatory for all my employees to take annual week-long vacation on top of the earned PTO. The stress free and family environment is what makes this company, the it company. And it doesn't make me happy to hear that my former assistant, best editor and favorite person in the world, is not abiding by the rules just because she got me and her dream job," she says vehemently, though her eyes are amused.
"There you have it, I got you and my dream job. Trust me, I enjoy doing this every day and I appreciate the whole stress free working environment, but I have lots to do and frankly, I don't know where else to go. My family and friends visit whenever they can."
"More like you don't want to make time, Ana. You are way too young to drown yourself with work. I mean, I applaud you, but even the most productive people need to step away from their dream job, to relax, recharge and most of all, spend time with family and friends. Besides, I'm sure Ray, Carla and your friends will be thrilled to have you."
"Really? When did you last go on vacation, boss?" I ask innocently, ignoring her last statement. I almost laugh at my boss' rosy blush. I'm pretty sure she's on top of that list from HR.
"The beauty of being a CEO and editor-in-chief is that, I can do whatever I want, so don't take that tone on me, Missy," she answers smugly. "You, my dear, are under moi, which means, I get to tell you to go and take a vacation, even though you've manage to put three of your author's in the New York Times best sellers list on your first month as Senior Editor, and also because the company will not fully reimburse your excess PTO, so you have no choice."
"Fine, I guess I'll go on a vacation. Now that I think about it, I haven't seen Ray in a while," I concede, knowing full well that she will nag me into submission.
"Good. It's settled then, email the details to HR, cc me and they'll take care of it for you," she says happily as she prepares to leave my office while get back to my work. "Oh, and Ana?"
"Yeah?"
"You go and have fun with your family and friends," she winks.
After settling the deal with HR, I was told to go on a three weeks of paid vacation, plus reimbursement for the excess PTO hours that I've accumulated over the past two years of none stop work. My vacation starts during the weekend which means I only have two days to prepare my team and myself and of course, to tell my family about my visit. I chose to stay in Seattle for the duration of my vacation since, my mom and her husband, Bob, visited very recently. Heather was right. My dad, Ray, was elated when I called and to tell him about my vacation and though he showed his elation through limited 'yes' and occasional grunts, I can tell he is excited since I haven't seen him since he visited a few years back. Kate, my best friend was ecstatic when I told her, even though like my mom, she tries to visit every chance she gets. She happily offered her apartment to me, volunteered to pick me up at the airport and also offering the latest news about our friends. Jose will open his latest exhibit, this time in Seattle, rather than in Portland while Kate's, older brother, Ethan very recently got engaged to his girlfriend of two years, Mia Grey.
"Oh wow! Way to go, Ethan!" I tell both my best friend, Katherine Kavanagh and Ethan, who happens to be in her apartment when I called.
"You know what that means, Ana," I hear Ethan say. My heart begins to sink.
"What would that be?" I ask innocently, though I think I already know what they'll say next.
"Duh?! You're officially invited, obviously," Kate states, matter-of-factly. Right. Being invited to Ethan and Mia's wedding would mean, I'll see him. I get to be in a room with my ex-boyfriend/dominant. Fantastic. Mind you, things ended amicably between us. I love him but he couldn't give me what I wanted and I couldn't give him what he wanted and needed in a relationship. So the natural thing for us to do is to end things between us, even though it hurt on my end, while he treated our relationship like a business deal gone sour. He didn't like the idea of separating just because of our differences any more than I did. I'll even go as far as to say that it angered him because he was, at least, at first, then as easy as snapping fingers, he masked his emotions and acted indifferent, which hurt me even more but nonetheless, it solidified my reason to leave. I shudder to think what his reaction would've been if I told him the other reason my decision leave him. To leave the place that i called home.
"Don't worry, Steele, you're not the only one. I suggest looking for a hot date though, if you know what I mean," she adds, when I didn't say a thing. Kate and Elliot's relationship ended soon after mine. I know that it was partially my fault, but Kate insist otherwise. She insist that Elliot cheated on her with an architect. But deep down, I know that Kate's protectiveness of me became the source of her and Elliot's arguments. Then my decision to move to New York a few weeks after my relationship with Elliot's brother ended, and the fact that he spent a drunken night with that architect, sealed the coffin between them.
"I don't need a pretend date, Kate. Remember, it ended amicably between us, no drama. Besides, everyone moved on. I mean, it's been what, three years?" I half lie, as my mind starts to replay everything that happened before I decided to pursue my career elsewhere.
"Whatever, Steele, let's talk more about the nuptials when you're here."
xxxxxxxxx
"Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic devices until we are safely parked at the gate. Thank you."
The disentangled voice of the pilot break my inner recollections of what transpired during the last few days leading up the now. As the plane carrying me back to my home town, back to my family and friends inch closer and closer after flight delays at JFK, alas, we are nearing the end of this dreadfully long five and a half hour flight. And in just a few moments, I will be back to the place that I once called home. The place with never ending gloomy gray sky, the place where I started my career, home to my family and friends and more importantly, home to the one person that I only ever loved. So far. So what if I'm not fully over the fact that this person didn't try to find out what the real reason behind my needy behavior? So what if it crushed me when the said person didn't even bother to stop me when I left? Yeah, yeah, I'm not fully over him, but I am doing my best because I now have other priorities like my life and career. But I guess the one's first love never truly dies saying applies to me too, I snort and shake my head at the thought. But before I my mind continues to add more snort-worthy thoughts, I feel warm hands touch mine. I look to see the still sleepy, innocent blue eyes meet mine. I smile fondly as my companion yawns and stretches comfortably from his seat, but again, the disentangled voice of the pilot alerts him.
"Flight attendants, please take your seats for landing."
My companion blinks a few times, then looks at me with worry etched on his beautiful face and say, "Mommy, I'm scared."