In the Company

I quietly slipped out of the apartment early the next morning, ready for my run. The sun was just peeking out into the mid-June morning and if I played my cards right, I would have time to do at least a 5k by 8 o’clock. Our work day started at 9, so if I hustled through a shower, I would look completely presentable.

I had never been blessed with Ryleigh’s good metabolism, so I was always dieting and exercising. And even if Ryleigh wasn’t lucky enough to burn off calories, she probably wouldn’t want to run with me anyway, especially not slightly hung over.

I stepped out onto the New York City sidewalk and plugged in my ear buds, into my iPod. I was stubborn about sticking to my BlackBerry for as long as possible and wouldn’t upgrade to an iPhone like Ryleigh had. The sleepers of the city (there were a few of us), were just waking up and emerging from their apartments and very little traffic crowded the streets.

At an easy pace, I started moving down the street, towards Central Park. It would be empty at this time of day giving me freedom to run wherever I liked. Or at least, I thought it would be.

I was about 2 blocks from the grassy area in the center of New York when my run was interrupted.

I was passing a coffee house that Ryleigh and I were known to frequent. It took a lot of self-control not to stop in and sample the day’s special. Going past the door, I could see a group of guys that had just exited the café, all in running shorts and t-shirts.

‘Well, shit,’ I thought. They were headed to Central Park too, I had bet.

“Guys!” a loud voice yelled. “Wait up, assholes.”

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. My back had been plowed into with the door when it had been pushed open abruptly.

“Shit,” the same voice muttered from above me. “Are you okay?”

I squinted up at him, shading my eyes from the rising sun.

“Fine, fine,” I shrugged as I accepted his hand and he pulled me up. “Just a little surprised.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, smiling a little at me.

I nodded, taking him in. He was good looking, that’s for sure. He had light colored curls and a sly smile that made you think he had something hiding behind his bright eyes.

“Nice going, Kaner,” another voice laughed.

We turned and saw the group of guys I had seen coming towards us.

“Less than 48 hours in the city and you’re already making the ladies fall for you,” another said.

“Well, you know,” ‘Kaner’ winked at me.

Typical ducha, as my brother would say, a douche.

I rolled my eyes at him and his friends. “Yeah, sure thing.” I left them with that sentiment. It was New York; I didn’t need to worry about being courteous.

*****

As I sprinted up the steps to the apartment-late, I crossed my fingers that Ryleigh was done in the shower. Thanks to being run over at the coffee house, I wasn’t back at the apartment until 8:20. We needed to be heading to work in 25 minutes, sooner if we wanted to walk.

“Someone’s late today,” Ryleigh smirked as I ran through the door. She sat at the kitchen counter, sipping a large mug of coffee, probably black.

Instead of coming up with a smart-ass comment, half in Spanish probably, I settled for turning on the bright, overhead light in the kitchen.

“Dammit!” Ryleigh shielded her sensitive, hung over eyes.

I threw my gross shorts and t-shirt off into the hamper and grabbed a new, non-sports bra before taking off for the bathroom and sliding to a halt outside the door, Risky Business style.

I power showered probably faster than ever and hoped my hair would air-dry. There was no time to break out the blow dryer. With ten minutes to go before we needed to leave, I was tearing through my closet, looking for something extra special to wear.

“Make-up in the cab,” Ryleigh said as she grabbed one of my cosmetic cases and loaded it with some basics as I dressed.

“Gracias,” I said as I literally jumped into my pencil skirt.

“What made you so late today?” she asked as I slipped on some pumps and grabbed my earrings.

“On the way,” I motioned for her to go out into the kitchen first. “Any chance you-,” Ryleigh didn’t need me to finish my sentence. Instead, she handed me a travel mug of coffee. “I love you.”

“I know, I know,” she opened the front door. “Now time to spend too much money on a cab because my Spanish roomie was late.”

“I’m sorry!” I huffed as I followed her down the hall.

*****

“So you don’t know who they were?” she asked as we set our things down at our desks. As assistants to the CEO, we shared a small office, right next to hers.

“Like I said,” I shrugged. “They looked the tiniest bit familiar, but I have no idea how.”

“Damn,” Ryleigh sighed. “Wish we knew who they were.”

“Ry, Rose!” a distressed male voice came from down the hall.

“Right on time,” Ryleigh smiled, reclining on her desk chair.

“Be nice,” I scolded my friend. “Hi, Gabe!”

Gabe was a fashion consultant that had instantly befriended Ryleigh and me when we joined the agency. He was a good guy to have to show you the ropes when you were new and he was always up for a shopping trip.

“Girls!” he flounced into the room. “They’re here! They’re here!” Gabe’s smile was wider than the Cheshire cat’s.

“Who’s here?” I leaned against my glass desk. Even Ryleigh was interested. She sat up and perched on the edge of her seat.

“The clients that Deena’s had everyone freaking out over,” he elaborated, using his hands.

Ryleigh and I exchanged a look before grabbing the papers we had to carry everywhere with us that contained Deena’s schedule and bolted out the door. Everyone in the office had waited forever to find out who was so special and the moment was finally here.

Falling into step behind Deena, we walked in silence down to the elevator. Stepping on, she turned to us.

“These clients are a big deal for us,” she said. “I’m going to be relying on you girls for a lot over the next few weeks. That means being on call for anything. Understood?” It shouldn’t have been a question. That was all Ryleigh and I did.

“Yes ma’am,” Ry nodded.

“Anything you need,” I pulled the binder of papers to my chest and checked that my phone was on silent.

Stepping off the elevator, the three of us were greeted by six, familiar looking men.

‘Wait a second…’

“Gentlemen,” Deena smiled. “I would like you to meet my assistants Ryleigh McKinn and Rosalina Delgado. Ryleigh, Rose, I’d like you to meet our newest clients.” She gestured down the line of men. “Maxime Talbot, Claude Giroux, Taylor Hall, Tyler Seguin, Brayden Schenn,” Deena moved to the side to reveal one last person, someone that had a familiar set of curls and an even more familiar smile. “Patrick Kane.”