Submitting to Her(15)

"Oh you know - trying to get my head around this Fitzroy proposal," I said, citing one of my clients I knew he knew nothing about.

"You're slipping boss," he laughed.

"Must be getting old," I said, then added: "But not as old as you, of course, Brookie."

Joking around a little diverted attention from my own inner turmoil, and I managed to hold on sufficiently to keep it all to myself. I felt so strange, and it was an unusual feeling for me. I'd never before been involved in a relationship more complicated than a sales pitch - and my relationships had all invariably ended the morning after my sales pitch, so I hadn't even had to manage a customer account as far as the opposite sex was concerned. Now, suddenly, I was hooked on a particular girl and completely unprepared for dealing with it.

How on Earth was I supposed to manage this particular account?

At 4:30 that afternoon, I received an email from Zoey asking me to attend her office at 5pm to update her on the team's activities. God - the moment I saw that email pop up in my in-box, my heart started racing. I naturally dwelled on her brief instruction, my insides warmed by hope, my eyes meandering between the few words she'd written, trying to ascertain if there was subtext in there, subtext indicating she wanted me physically.

Shortly before the appointed hour, I saw Zoey return to her office, greeting Finnegan briefly on her way in, followed by a brief conversation in response to his polite question as to how she was doing.

At 5pm, I noticed to my horror that five other members of our team were entering Zoey's office - the senior salesmen. I followed them in, and took a seat on one of the chairs she had assembled in front of her desk, thinking it a cruel trick.

"Okay, we're getting back on track," Zoey said to the six of us. "Why don't you update us on where everybody is, Aiden?"

She turned to me. I'd reacted to hearing her use my first name, rather than the surname she'd used while dominating me on that fateful Friday afternoon. Did she see disappointment in my face?

I hadn't prepared anything to say for this meeting, not imagining it would actually turn out to be a proper sales update. I could see the others were a little annoyed this should be taking place at 5pm, when they should have been on the way home. Well, I'd have to wing it.

"Of course," I said to our precocious head of department. It wasn't so bad. I had a good idea what everyone was working on, what progress they'd made recently, and what our deadlines were. I had a positive message to recount - I had been a good lieutenant to our previous head of department, and in six months we hadn't slipped so much that I hadn't been able to pull things back towards a more promising direction within a few days.

Once I was done, Zoey asked the others a few things, mostly trivial matters, and then asked me more questions about what was coming up for the rest of the month.

At the end, it was half past five, and I could tell the others were itching to get out of there. Our vice president said she was pleased our team had begun to get back to a good operational environment, and stated her intention to hold weekly update meetings at this time to go over everything. There was a quiet groan at that from my sales colleagues, but our boss let it go. I remembered her previous attempts at weekly meetings with some amusement - the number of people that had failed to turn up, even managing a few worthwhile excuses, which had prompted the concept to die a death.

This time, I got the feeling our meetings would be very successful going forward - I'd make it so, if Zoey's new confidence faded.

At last, she dismissed everyone from the room.

"Oh... Aiden, would you stay behind, please? I want you to take me through some of the Villier numbers before you go home."

"Sure," I said.

That analytical part of my brain was whirring into action again, assessing her use of my first name. She'd been acting completely normal around me when our co-workers were present, and that was clearly a good thing. I think my co-workers would have been a little baffled to hear her start referring to me by my surname.

Yet as my colleagues now streamed out of the room with the clear intention of getting the hell away from this building as quickly as they could, I found myself hoping desperately that once the door closed leaving only the two of us there, Zoey would start using my surname again.

"That went well, didn't it, Jones?"

Her voice had changed, as soon as we were alone. I felt a burning in my chest and a tingle in my loins.

"Yes, Ms Schoenberg. Very successful."

"And we'll have more successful meetings each week from now on, won't we? Really improve the communication channels."

"Yes, Ms Schoenberg."

Slowly, she rose from her chair, and walked around to the door, which she once again locked, managing to do it so quietly I couldn't even hear the mechanism.