Episode Eighty-Two
Rainer’s [POV]
I instructed my driver to drop me off around the block, telling him I wanted to grab a coffee or some nonsense, and I waited until the sleek SUV disappeared before I started walking. Tasha’s new office was in the center of downtown Oakland.
Businesses were slowly returning to the vibrant little city, and I was impressed that she had picked a place with such a good vibe. There was a coffee shop in the lobby of her building, and I took a minute to review its menu of fresh-roasted coffee and artisanal chocolate.
A woman smiled at me over her laptop, and I realized I was staring off into space. I was stalling. I edged down the block and entered the building’s main lobby. Marble walls and gold leaf spoke to the building’s historic status, and I was tempted to sit down and admire it. Instead, I opted to take the stairs to Tasha’s top-floor offices.
As I climbed, I wondered how on earth Tasha had convinced Stan to open up shop in such a neighborhood. He had deep San Francisco roots, and I didn’t foresee him traveling across the bay every day. I pushed open the door on the top floor and got my answer: the new company sign featured Tasha’s name, which meant Stan was planning to retire. The receptionist nodded to me and then glanced back with a widening smile. She smoothed down the front of her silk blouse and gave her lipstick a quick lick.
“Hello, I’m Amber. Is there anything I can help you with?” I didn’t know whether to be pleased or irritated. It had been nice staying out of the tabloids, but people still recognized me, especially in the business world. Either the receptionist was going to have to study names and faces better, or Tasha would find her a new position. “Just admiring the view,” I said. I winked at the receptionist and then turned to look out the large arched windows.
Oakland traffic streamed past far below, and from the top floor, I could see Jack London Square. It was a view worth admiring, but I was stalling again. It was my last chance to head back to the elevators before someone I knew spotted me.
What was I doing at Tasha’s office anyway? If I was being honest, Tasha and I didn’t know each other that well. Not well enough for a random drop-by. I could take the ‘just in the neighborhood route, but I knew Tasha wouldn’t fall for it. The last thing I wanted to do was put her on edge or make her suspicious. It had taken me long enough to get past her suspicions the first time.
“Rainer Maxwell, good to see you,” a voice boomed. I turned around and had my hand crushed in a vice-like shake. “Otto. I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said. The former Hyperion head of security clapped me on the shoulder and finally released my aching hand.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.
“I could say the same about you.” “I’m just wondering how Tasha got Stan Eastman to set up shop in Oakland,” I said. Otto chuckled.
“Oh, he put up a fight. Though I think this was his plan all along. You know he’s retiring soon, right? I think all he wanted to do was encourage Ms. Nichols to find her way.” I followed Otto across the reception lobby and through the double doors to the outer offices.
“So, Tasha is the brains behind all of this.” Otto swelled with pride. “She’s a great boss. The good atmosphere here. I like it. You would too.” I stopped in the hallway. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” Otto shrugged, but his gaze was shrewd. “You and Ms. Nichols made a good team.” “You don’t have to sound so shocked,” I said. Otto laughed again. “I’m serious. She wouldn’t have been brave enough to salvage the GroGreen project if it hadn’t been for you pushing her. And she wouldn’t have gotten into community development. I’ve been to see that garden, you know.” I glanced away, not wanting him to see that I had just come from visiting the garden we helped plant.
“So, Tasha took you away from San Francisco, huh?” I asked. Otto snorted and led me toward the executive offices. “Mr. Eastman insisted, with a very nice raise. Plus, I live over in Richmond and love the shorter commute.” I sighed. “All you East Bay people.” “Bet you wouldn’t mind ending up here yourself,” Otto said. He stopped and gave me another measuring look.
“Maybe there’s another project Ms. Nichols could include you in.” “No, no, I’m not here looking for a job.” As soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong thing to say. Otto’s eyes gleamed with speculation.
“Well, don’t let me get in your way. Ms. Nichols’ office is just over there.” I shook hands with the head of security again and then headed in the direction he pointed. The office was an open floor plan with a swath of cubicles running dow n the center. The offices on the side were almost entirely walled in with glass to let in the light. A large conference room dominated the far wall, flanked on either side by larger executive offices.
Tasha’s was on the left with a dramatic backdrop of Oakland towers and roofs behind it. She had pulled back the heavy linen curtains to allow the entire office to see inside. I was certain that watching Tasha put in a full day of work motivated every single person within sight.
She was pacing back and forth while talking on her phone, and when she glanced up, I froze. Her coppery hair caught the sunlight streaming through the windows.
The sleek, dove-gray business suit she wore hugged her body in the way only tailor-made clothes could. She looked every inch the powerful CEO, and I would have felt better with a folder or report or something to show her.
“Rainer?” Berger hailed me from behind a cubicle. “I thought that was you.” He wove around the cubicles and cut off my view of Tasha. I shook his hand. He continued to block my view of Tasha’s office.
“So, no more jet-setting through Europe?” “I got bored,” Berger said with a shrug. I crossed my arms over my chest. “I doubt that. Didn’t you see Ellison in Paris? I heard you were both there at the same time. She didn’t have one hundred and one parties for you to attend?” Berger adjusted his tie and studied the pattern in it.
“I did see Ellison, but she was busy,” he said. “I suppose her parties aren’t your kind of thing and vice versa.” I tried to inch past Berger, but he was determined to chat. “I attended as many as I could stand,” Berger said.
“But I don’t think she noticed.” I blinked a few times in surprise. “And you couldn’t catch the notice of any other woman in France?” Berger looked relieved when a man in a plain suit interrupted us.
“Mr. Berger here is your packet from HR. Please let me know if you have any questions. And congratulations again, sir.” The man hurried away back to work and Berger gave me a funny half-smile, half-cringe. “You probably have a few questions, huh?” I watched the man race through the cubicles.
“First off, I want to know why he called you ‘sir.’ He must not know who you are.” Berger smacked me with his heavy packet of paperwork. “I’m getting all respectable now, and I blame you,” he said.
“That can’t be right. My reputation’s still in the toilet.” “That’s part of it,” Berger said. “I was sick of having a reputation of all talk and no substance.
And I wasn’t lying about the getting bored part. I missed work. That’s why I blame you and Tasha. She helped you make the transition into real, meaningful work and I was kinda hoping she would do the same for me.” I felt a bright flare of jealousy and took a step straight toward Berger.
“So, why exactly are you here?” Berger held up both hands.
“Whoa. Just for a job. I came in only expecting a recommendation, but Tasha decided to take a chance on me. Professionally only.” I eyed him closely and finally uncrossed my arms.
“It’s just strange you showing up at the awards dinner and now here. And now you’re going to work for Tasha?” “It’s not like that. Totally the opposite. I’m trying to make myself more respectable so I can catch someone else’s attention. Not Tasha’s. Not like that,” Berger explained.
“Tasha was the only one you talked to at the awards dinner.” I was having trouble letting go of my irritation. Berger scrubbed the back of his neck and tried to explain himself again. “I can see how you might think I’m after Tasha. I mean, I was in a way. I crashed the awards dinner because I didn’t know when else I would see her. And I wanted to gauge how she felt about me before I asked for help getting a job.”
“And she was receptive?” My voice came out a growl. “She was distracted.” Berger elbowed me in the ribs. “And it wasn’t easy tracking Tasha down. She is a seriously busy woman.”
“How did you find out she’d be there?” I asked. “Well, first I had to find your old, razor-sharp assistant. Topher is one cagey guy,” Berger said.
The tension in my shoulders eased as the subject changed. “Are you trying to tell me that Topher let slip his boss’ private schedule? I would have thought you’d have better luck swimming from here to Alcatraz.” Berger snorted.
“Yeah, it wasn’t easy. I think he finally took pity on me. How did you manage to finagle the information out of him?” “I was invited to that awards dinner.” I stood up straight and slipped my hands into my pockets.
“Right, because you make a habit of going to things like that,” Berger said. “Just like you have a habit of dropping by old colleagues’ new workplaces.”
“Don’t you have some paperwork to fill out?” I asked Berger. He gave a triumphant laugh. “Oh, now I’m getting it. I’m here for a job. Why are you visiting our Ms. Nichols?”
“How are we going to know the temperature of the market if I don’t check in on the Ice Queen?” I asked. It was a low joke, back to the days at Hyperion when everyone made fun of Tasha behind her back. Berger did not respond to it with his usual bark of laughter. His smile froze into a crooked line, and suddenly he was much more interested in the nearest cubicle.
I felt my stomach sink to the floor. During our conversation, Berger had turned me so my back was to Tasha’s office. She had looked so busy and so focused as she talked on the phone that I had assumed she’d be staying at her desk. I had also banked on her less-than-thrilled expression when she saw me buy me a few minutes to think up the perfect thing to say.
Something casual but friendly. I had come to her new office to make her realize we could still get along. Now, I was afraid she had come out of her office just to overhear me talking the same kind of nonsense all the junior executives used to torture her with.
Berger met my eyes, just barely. It was clear that Tasha was directly behind me, but there was no way out of the comment I had made.
“She’s behind me, isn’t she?” I asked Berger. He nodded but said nothing. I sighed. “She heard me sounding like a horse’s ass, didn’t she?” “She did,” Tasha said. I spun around, but her expression was too hard to read. Berger found his voice again.
“We were just talking about how far you’ve come. We didn’t make it easy on you, and Rainer was just remembering the awful jokes we used to make. Not even funny. Just bad.” He trailed off, and Topher swooped in to try to salvage the awkward situation.
“Mr. Maxwell, so good to see you again. I remember when you used to tell off all your colleagues about how they joked behind Ms. Nichols’ back.” “Are we in junior high school?” Tasha asked. I laughed, not knowing if she was making fun of us or not.
“We are, but not you. I can’t even imagine what you must have been like in junior high school: hefty binder full of A+ schoolwork. . .” I trailed off to silence and stood between Berger and Topher looking sheepish. Tasha sighed. “I’m sorry to break up this little reunion, but I have a very busy day and there is a lot I need to do before my next meeting.” Topher brightened.
“I’ll get you a coffee. Her niece was born late last night. Healthy baby girl”