“Mr. Thorne would like to see you about a special project.”
I snapped out of my panic mode.
“A…project?”
I must have sounded skeptical, because he went on: “It’s very important. A logo redesign for the company. He wants to keep it quiet for the meantime, but he asked to speak to you specifically.”
I was torn between flattery, and a curious sense of foreboding. I was proud of myself, of course, for attracting his attention. Then again, the attention of a man like that might be something I’d regret having in the very near future.
“Right now?” was all I could muster, for all the thoughts swirling in my brain.
“Yes,” said the attorney. “Right now.”
I followed him down the long hallway that led to Mr. Thorne’s office. It was separated from the rest of us by enough distance to make him seem untouchable. I wondered if he’d learned about that in one of his many management conferences.
I hesitated at the door. I’d never been inside his office before. Aside from Lisa, I didn’t know anyone here who had. I felt like the attorney would soon ask me to take off my shoes, or perform some act of contrition.
Instead, he simply pushed the door open and walked in, gesturing for me to follow.
The office was not at all what I expected. I would have imagined it as something Spartan and cold, with a lot of empty space, no human touch whatsoever. Instead, the first thing that caught my eye when I walked in was the variety of tropical plants thriving around Mr. Thorne. Some were clustered by the window, some featured in a small alcove against the back wall, and a few small ones even lived on his massive mahogany desk. The multitude of grow lights gave the office a soft, welcoming glow. The ceiling, too, was just the right height - not so tall that the space was forbidding, but not so low that it felt stuffy and cramped.
Mr. Thorne himself stood in the center of the room, by a grouping of lounge chairs and a small coffee table. He was smiling guardedly. Or maybe that was just his normal smile. I didn’t think I’d ever looked at him fully in the face before, and I’d certainly never seen him smile. It made him look younger. Not that he’d looked old before, but the difference was marked. I actually had no idea about his age, but I’d always guessed him to be in his early thirties.
“Please, Ms. Wainwright,” he said, gesturing towards one of the chairs. “Take a seat. Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Juice?”
I shook my head.
“Before we begin, I want to assure you that this meeting is absolutely nothing to be concerned about. I have no issues with your job performance here. I have a business proposal for you, which I believe to be mutually beneficial. My attorney is here to oversee our negotiations and ensure that each of us is getting a fair deal. Do you follow so far?”
I nodded, swallowing hard. I suspected he was about to ask me to do something that was against every business ethics seminar I’d ever been forced to sit through.
He took a seat in one of the chairs opposite me, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “I want you to understand that if you refuse, your employment here would not be jeopardized in any way.”
The attorney was twirling his pen between two fingers, staring at the floor. I got the feeling he wasn’t very happy with what was going on, but he wasn’t about to say anything as long as he was getting his paycheck.
“Ms. Wainright, as I’m sure you know, I’ve been living and working in this country for a long time. This place is my home. This is where I have built everything that’s important to me. But, as it happens, I was born just across the border, in Toronto. Unfortunately, I put my trust in the wrong person to handle the paperwork that should have allowed me to legally live and work here. He stole a lot of money from me, but worse than that, he failed to properly file my papers. I was not aware of this until I received notice from the INS that I was no longer welcome here.” He paused, fiddling with his cufflinks. “You’re an intelligent woman, I’m sure you can see where this is going.”
Well. This certainly had taken an interesting turn.
I forced myself to think about this logically, if such a thing were possible. He was a good-looking guy, of course - no question about that - in fact, I couldn’t help but think I’d look slightly dingy by comparison, on his arm. But obviously he didn’t think so. Or he didn’t care.
I cleared my throat. “Mr. Thorne…sir…can I ask why you picked me?”
He looked at me for a moment. “Your supervisor,” he said, finally. “Mrs. Anderson. Lisa. She’s one of the few people who know about my…problem. When she came to me and told me that you and she had several conversations where you expressed distaste for the institution of marriage, I thought you might be interested.”