"Well, I'm working on it. I just really want to get this job at Cross, and then I feel like I'll be able to breathe easier and things will go really well." Naomi slid her dark brown fingers into her black curls and tugged absentmindedly at a strand of her hair.
She'd graduated college and had been hired pretty quickly in the business field. She had been lucky and landed a good job. She was a hard worker and she was promoted quickly because of her ambition and her keen intelligence. The job market had changed and she changed jobs with it; and when she did, she found herself headed down a career path in which she had no real interest.
In an effort to get back on the right track, she began to put her resume out in the business field again to see if she could land her dream job. She wanted a job where she could grow with the company and advance past glass ceilings. She wanted to become an executive before she was thirty. She knew she could reach that goal if she was working with the right company and for the right bosses. Leadership was paramount with goals like she had, and she knew it.
She researched several companies in Manhattan, and when she found out that Cross Corporation was hiring, she sent her information in immediately. She was stunned and far beyond thrilled when they had contacted her for an interview, but from the moment that she hung up the phone from that call, she had been walking on pins and needles, hardly sleeping at night, and she hadn't felt so nervous since she had applied to the college that she had been dreaming of getting into.
Inviting her best friend Andrea over for coffee had been a two-fold endeavor. She was glad for the chance to visit with her, but more than that, she had needed the moral support of someone who truly believed in her. Since her parents had been killed, she had felt in the depths of her heart as if she had no one but herself. Most of the time she felt confident relying on herself, but on those occasions when her own confidence just wasn't quite enough, it helped her to know that she had a close friend that she could rely on to boost her up, and Andrea was just that person.
Andrea and Naomi talked about other things; Andrea was a newlywed who was still enjoying the golden glow of blissful love, and Naomi was focused with laser beam intensity on her career. They visited a long while before Andrea finally stood to leave, hugging Naomi tightly.
"Now, you call me the minute you know about that job with Cross and let me know how it all worked out, okay? Stop worrying about it; you just go in there with a positive attitude, you do the interview, and then you let it all go and just trust that whatever is supposed to happen, will happen. Okay?" Andrea said as she released her from their hug and set her hand on the door before walking out.
"I will," Naomi said with a wide grin as her cheeks warmed slightly and she looked down, her long black eyelashes closing her light blue eyes. She had gotten her eyes from her father, but her dark skin and curves had come from her mother. "Thank you so much for everything, Andrea, I really appreciate it."
Andrea nodded and headed out of the door as Naomi closed it behind her. As soon as the lock clicked shut, she closed her eyes and leaned her back against the door. She hadn't intended to talk about her parents. She almost never spoke of them to anyone ever, and bringing them up on the spur of the moment as she had with Andrea, had been more painful than she had shown her friend. Their tragic accident weighed heavy in Naomi's heart, and she knew that it always would. Her father and mother were her life, her rock, and losing them had devastated her. The only reason that she hadn't given in to the grief of it all was because she felt so strongly that she owed them everything. No matter what, she couldn't let them down.
Nothing could get in the way of her success and her achievement in reaching her goals. She was working as hard as she was not only for herself but also for both of them, to thank them for all they had sacrificed, and to make the most of the precious gifts they had given her.
She drew a deep breath and felt the heartache seeping out of her eyes. Knowing that rest was the best thing for her, she went to her bed and laid down in it, curling her long legs up to her stomach as she hugged a pillow. She took her mind back to happier days when she was growing up; moments she had treasured with her parents, and times that she would always hold onto.
*
Telephones rang, an elevator dinged as the doors slid open, fluorescent lights hummed almost indistinctly overhead, computer keys tapped intermittently throughout the room, and the dull murmur of quiet conversations filled the air of the large working area in the high rise office building. None of it was being heard in the silent room that was just down the hall and behind a large wooden door that was closed. It was a luxurious office that bespoke the wealth and prosperity of both the company and the man who owned the company.
It was spacious and well lit, with thick dark carpeting, large windows on two sides and wood cabinets and shelves lining one wall. There was a private bathroom, a hidden bar, and a casual seating area, as well as a desk and chairs. That office was silent at that moment because the two men who were in it were both looking at paperwork. One of the men had black hair that was silvered at his temples. He had delicate traces of time etched onto his face in the form of fine lines that crinkled often around his green eyes, and deeper wrinkles in the skin around his mouth. His green eyes were looking through his reading glasses at the pages laid out on his dark mahogany desk.
He was the owner of this company. The younger man sitting studiously before him was also his; he was his grown son. The younger man closely resembled his father, Phillip Cross. He too had dark black hair, though no silver had yet begun to show itself in it, and he had the same sharp green eyes; like emeralds, deep and mysterious. They both shared the same squared jaw and full lower lip, high strong cheekbones and dark brows that furrowed when they were thinking intently or concentrating as they both were at that moment.
Phillip was still in very good shape physically; he worked out regularly and it showed. His son Jonathon could have been chiseled from a statue. Jonathon was solidly built: muscular, trim, and tall. He thought he was serious looking, but it was the opinion of most everyone else that his confidence and sternness was arrogance rather than confidence and practicality.
Jonathon's eyes skimmed swiftly over the paperwork that his father had given him and in less time than his father had spent looking at it, he set it back on the old man's desk and leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on the cushioned leather that covered it.
Phillip, well accustomed with his son's impatience, paid him no attention whatsoever and instead, continued to read through the paperwork at his own pace. When he was finished, the only sound in the room that could be heard was the tapping of Jonathon's fingers on the chair. His father looked up at him as he set the papers down and slowly slid his reading glasses off of his face. Phillip rested his wrist against his chin and contemplated his son for a moment before speaking.
"Well, Jonathon, what do you think?" he asked, his eyes keen and piercing on his son's expression.
Jonathon sat up and brought both of his hands to the desktop where he picked up the first page on top of the stack and lifted it slightly before dropping it back down like it was hot. "I think it's ridiculous. I think I just wasted ten minutes of my life that I am never going to get back again, and I think you should have seen that before I did, and before you asked me to look at this with you."
His father didn't blink or move, he just watched him for a long moment before bringing his hands down to his lap and sitting back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "Why do you think that?"
Jonathon sighed in frustration and leaned back in his own chair; closely mimicking his father, though he did not realize he had done it. "If I wanted to buy a tech company that wasn't making any real headway in the market, I could find no end of them. This one isn't providing us with anything that we don't already have. It isn't offering us any new technology that we could use or that might have any real effect in the market or the world, and they have a terrible track record. I can't believe you even brought me in here to look at this, if you want the truth."
Phillip chuckled lightly and nodded. "I thought you'd say that." He leaned forward and pushed himself away from his desk, and then stood up and set his glasses down on the paperwork he had been reading. Jonathon watched him closely.
Phillip walked around the edge of his desk and headed to the corner of the room where he opened the cabinet that held a wet bar. He reached for a glass and then looked over his should. "Would you like a scotch?"