Chapter 14 - Someone’s Frustrated

Austin

It’s a good day. A really fantastic day, actually. Normally, I would have a love-hate relationship with Mondays but this time, I’m pretty okay with it.

I stare at my reflection in my bathroom mirror. My arms don’t make me wince. I’m in such a good mood that I barely pay them any attention.

I button up my long sleeves. No suit jacket today, I feel so light and calm.

I make my way over to my massive granite kitchen. The coffee has finished brewing and I make myself a cup. I even try to add some milk to it. Just for a change.

That was a mistake. I drain the liquid down the sink and make my usual black and strong cup.

When all is right with the world once more, I take my liquid gold and head to my office downstairs. It’s fairly early but I’m still hyped up.

Spending the weekend at your childhood crush’s place having a sex marathon can do that to you.

I just feel like this is going to be a great week.

I pass by my assistant’s little corner outside my door. She isn’t here yet and that’s understandable.

Now, I don’t usually snoop around anyone else’s office space. It’s rude and unbecoming of a man but my eyes catch something on her computer screen.

It’s a bright yellow sticky note.

Normally I would just ignore the unassuming note but there’s something about the way the deep indents are etched on the paper. The dark ink and the style it’s written make me think the person who wrote it was so aggressive when they jotted this down.

If the intensity is not clear, the words on the paper make it so.

‘You looked very gorgeous at the party - I liked the color of your cheeks. The black dress was lovely.’

What the hell? I’m sure new girl didn’t write this herself. Or is this some sort of positive affirmation shit that people go around saying to themselves?

If so, that’s fucked up. But I doubt she’d be praising her own dress and complexion, of all things.

It seems like it comes from another person. An observer, perhaps? Wouldn’t her friends or acquaintances just outright tell her during the night?

Why the need to write it down? Unless it didn’t come from them.

I shake my head. It’s none of my business anyway. Whatever mambo jumbo she likes to say to herself or someone else.

I don’t care who compliments her, it’s just weird.

I leave it alone. Just when I’m about to head to my office, the elevator opens and I see two people across the hallway.

I instinctually lean back on new girl’s desk and observe them.

Tommy is blabbering something to the girl. Said girl was texting on her phone.

It’s evident that she’s not paying him full attention.

He shifts so that he’s blocking her way.

I raise my eyebrows at that.

New girl sidesteps him and laughs.

I grit my teeth. It was funny when she wasn’t minding him.

I don’t like people flirting in my hallway. It’s disruptive to business operations.

New girl spots me before Tommy does. He’s still trying to grab her attention and I make a show of crossing my arms.

She stops dead in her tracks. That deer-in-highlight look is actually pretty cute on her.

I try to prevent the smile that’s threatening to escape my lips.

She punches Tommy on his shoulder to stop him from being a goof.

I want to punch his face just for being here. I take a sip of my black coffee just to prolong the awkwardness for new girl.

I don’t talk. Tommy pipes up when he sees me.

“Hey, bro. Morning!” He greets me cheerfully.

“Yeah, it was a good morning,” I mumbled to myself.

“What’s up?” He pipes up again.

“What do you mean ‘what’s up? This is my place of work. Shouldn’t I ask you what you’re doing here instead?” I snap at my friend.

“Whoa. I was just dropping off Olivia here. What’s with the attitude?” He’s narrowing his eyes now. And that irritates me so much.

“Never question my ‘attitude’, I am still your boss, after all, Mister Ford,” I emphasize his name and the professional tone that drips off my tongue.

From the ‘what the fuck’ look on his face, he doesn’t like his ego getting bruised like this. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. He needs to learn his place and he should respect his boss at all times. We’re not fooling around in the engineering department or the warehouse.

This is my kingdom up here.

“I am not your ‘bro’ here, Mr. Ford. Shouldn’t you be working right about now?” I deliberately check my watch. It’s just a minute past time-in, and he’s the manager so he has flexible work hours, but I’m trying to make a point here.

“Oh, okay. That’s how it is.” He straightens his posture - squares his shoulders and that tick on his jaw is visible. “I see, Mr. Cane.”

Still, I don’t care. I’ve never been one to back down.

I stand at my full height as well. The look plastered on my face - the one I use to intimidate my business competitors and misbehaving employees.

New girl steps in between us. Bold of her to come between two towering guys. I spare a glance at her determined face just before she turns around and addresses Tommy.

“Thanks, see you around.” She tries to dismiss him. He doesn’t get the clue or he ignores it.

“See you,” He tells her. “At lunch,” He looks at me while saying this. Trying to incite something from me.

“Okay?” He goes back to face her.

“Actually, we’ll be going to Montana.” I interrupted whatever new girl was about to say.

She sighs. I’m not sure if it’s because I saved her from answering or if she’s just done with the conversation.

“Okay, Mr. Cane. Bye, Tommy.” He takes her cue this time and heads over to the elevator.

He gives me one more look. I remain stoic.

New girl seems to notice the sticky note on her screen now given by the scrunched eyebrows.

The dubious expression on her face confirms to me that I’m not the only one who found it weird.

Before she’d think it was me who wrote it, I told her to get ready to leave.

I admit, it was a last-minute decision but I just don’t like anyone dictating to my own assistants what their schedule would look like.

It’s not that I want to control her time, it is her free time for god’s sake, but the way Tommy said it right to my face just provoked me. I don’t back down from anything or anyone.

It’s petty and childish but I have the power to direct her schedule and I will use it as I see fit.

Besides, I really do need to visit my biggest site. I can just take her along.

What could she be doing here if she needed to assist me there?

After justifying my impulsive decision, I spenT the next hour finishing paperwork and checking up on each department’s reports.

I told new girl to call ahead our Montana project and arrange our visit.

By the time I’m done delegating work for the day, she’s fixing up her workstation.

I signal her to follow me to the elevator.

Unlike her cool and relaxed demeanor with Tommy earlier in the same elevator, she keeps her distance from me. Her rigid posture lends no doubt to the fact that she’s tense. I’m not sure if it’s from fear or professionalism.

The contrast irks me. And that annoys me. I shouldn’t care if she’s comfortable around me.

That’s what I want, isn’t it? I want my people to fear and respect me.

So why am I bothered if she keeps her distance? I don’t want her to treat me like a friend. Right?

Asking myself this question pisses me off. I shouldn’t care at all how she interacts with me. I’ve never cared how my assistants treat me. I barely take a look at them. I focus on their output - their work and not personal interactions like these.

But it bothers me how comfortable she is with Tommy and how insolent he has become.

I shouldn’t care but I do and this adds to the frustration. By the time we get to my car in the basement, my mood has soured. The fact that I cannot control my emotions makes me want to punch Tommy’s face.

I don’t speak the whole way to Montana. I’m stewing in my own bad mood. The scenery must have entertained her because new girl doesn’t initiate any communication either.

The smile on her face contradicts my disposition but I think she doesn’t let it bother her. She’s like a kid on a road trip.

She took a little bit of a nap halfway there but her face is back to being plastered on the window and observing Montana.

I’ve been to the site so many times that I fail to appreciate its location and the scenery the road trip features.

I pick up on the awe and wonder that comes across her face when she views the mountains for the first time. The fondness in her eyes when we pass through the valleys and the delight when she spots bison and deers. She seems to love the wildlife and their carefree way of living out here.

She gets this wistful look whenever we pass by the houses on the prairies. Her palm on her chin and that dreamy look make me want to ask her what she’s thinking.

I stop myself.

We arrive at the site and it’s one of the main buildings in this remote town. This is one of my projects that I’m personally invested in.

It’s a hospital specifically for trauma patients which includes all kinds of trauma: whether it’s physical or mental. This is close to my heart and I’m very involved in this project.

And that’s why I blow up when I see that the site isn’t manned properly and the construction workers are barely doing anything. The equipment is left haphazardly all around, the people aren’t even wearing protective gear.

I immediately zeroed in on my assistant.

“I thought you called ahead to arrange our visit?” I ask her, barely keeping my cool.

“Yes, Mr. Cane. The foreman said he was expecting us. But uh…” She looks around clueless.

“Where is he?! Call him up, now!”

She scurries over to a corner and proceeds to dial up the foreman. A worker passes me by and I grab a hold of him.

“Where’s Johnson?” He must have detected the seriousness of my tone because he nervously points to a makeshift room where I assume Johnson the foreman is located.

Inside, I see him seated in a plastic chair, nursing a cup of coffee.

“Johnson! What the hell?!” He spits out the coffee on the papers he is holding in surprise at my voice.

“Mr. Cane, sir!” He says while he attempts to salvage the soaked paperwork in front of him.

“Didn’t my assistant call ahead?”

“Yes, sir but..” In the corner of my eye, I notice my assistant creep into the room during the whole commotion.

“Where are the workers? Why is everything so disorganized?! And why the fuck are the people just milling around?!”

“Sir, we’re just on a break. They’ve been working nonstop over the weekend.”

“I don’t give a damn, Johnson! I don’t pay you to just let the workers fuck around here. There should be at least a couple working. Why isn’t there a rotation schedule?”

He scratches his chin. I caught him there.

“This is the last time I’ll let this slide.” I walk out the door and grab a hard hat.

I hand one over to my assistant, she carefully puts it on. It hardly fits her small face. I repress the need to coo at this and channel my anger at the state of business around the work area.

Johnson must have signaled for the workers to go back to their designations.

My frustration is mounting. The level of work input and the state of the area is simply not up to my standards. The reports that Johnson is sending are far from the truth.

I bark out commands. I get my hands dirty. I question Johnson’s assistant foreman about the real status of the project.

Earl is new, he’s a bit older than Johnson but he seems like a good man. He answers truthfully, with no sugarcoating and just the facts of the situation.

After sufficiently scolding the workers and outlining all the improvements I need to see, I call Johnson back to his makeshift office.

The grim look on his face hints that he knows what is coming up next.

“This was not acceptable at all, Johnson. I’ve seen you do so much better. This is evidently poor management on your part. And I had no idea. The reports are contradictory to everything that I can observe here.”

He remains silent the whole time. I ask him to explain his side but he keeps his head low.

With no explanation at all from him, I let him go. Earl would be better to take the position. It seems that his performance declined over the years and he just doesn’t care about the work anymore.

I grit my teeth. Johnson was integral in our previous accomplishments at the company but it’s time I face the truth.

Nothing good lasts forever.

I refrain from observing my assistant as we go back to Portland.