CHAPTER TWO: ALMOST TYPICAL DAY

            My day starts at 6:30 am sharp. After my guests for the night leaves, I like to have thirty minutes to myself. I get a chance to lay out, watch the sun rise from the large windows of my bedroom. The whole world is gone for those thirty minutes. Every once and a while, I’ll doze back off. That thirty minutes is my peace. By seven, I am up, moving around. I start off by taking a hot shower, washing the sweat and the cologne of a man from my body. I proceed around the house, letting my skin air dry. I have a cup of coffee, choose my outfit for the day, and dry my hair. From there, I finally get dressed, and head out for the day. I like my privacy. So it’s only natural that my place would be isolated from the rest of the world. I have a two bedroom home, very modern, located on the top of a hill, overlooking the city of San Francisco. I am closed off from the neighbors, a rather large tan gate surrounding the property. Being a very successful black woman has its perks. You probably want to know what I do. My job is very rewarding. I am a creative director. My job is to take a product and sell it. I am in charge of all advertising, and let me tell you, I am very good at what I do. With a Bachelors in Business Administration from California State, I better have something to show for it. Six years of my life after the age of eighteen was spent in a classroom. My studies were my main concern. I had to be sure that I would have a secure future. Not long after graduating did I receive a job offer from Quality Advertising, an upcoming Advertisement and Marketing Company. I have been there ever since. I plan to go far in my career.

            I have my own corner office on the third floor. I don’t get to see much from the office windows, but I’m not complaining. I could be like every other employee beneath me who are stuck on the floor, their view being each other. I was not jealous. I was comfortable right where I was at. I walked into the office, seeing my team of seven people hard at work. We had just finished a product, helping design and advertise a new horror film. The client was very happy with the work, and left a good impression of me to the CEO. I had barely reached the door to my office when a young pretty blond stopped me.

“Good Morning Raine,” She spoke, a smile on her face and a coffee in her hand. I was quick to take the coffee from her and bring it up to my lips. She grinned. Karen was one of the top members of my team. She was also a suck up, but I wasn’t going to say anything about it. If I did, and she stepped back, who would bring me my second cup of coffee for the day? You could say I appreciated her. You could also say that I found her to be competition. She had good leadership skills. And even though I was the person she spent the most time with during her work day, I wasn’t the only Supervisor who noticed.

“Good morning Karen,” I greeted back, not missing a step. She did well to keep up with me. “How are you?”

“The same as I was yesterday,” she said, her voice chipper; that perfect little grin never leaving her small face.

“Right, Great as ever. Ready for a productive day.” I continued walking, not bothering to glance back at her, but knowing that she was nodding her head. I hid my smile. Her response never changed. Sometimes I wondered if she meant it, if she really loved her job that much. I stopped at the glass door of the corner office I loved so much, turning around to look down at Karen. She was a few feet shorter than me. Of course, the three inch black heels I worked with did offer me quite a bit of an advantage, but everything about Karen was short and small. Her blond hair was perfectly shaped, hugging the side of her small face, stopping right at her jaw line. She had a button nose and thin lips. She was only 5’2, her legs and arms thin, her hands, reminding me of a seven year old. Her eyes, though a gorgeous blue, were beady. If you took in one physical aspect at a time, there was nothing appealing about this woman. But as whole, if you were into the thin, tight, body types, she would fit perfectly. She stared up at me. “Was there something that you needed?” Normally, she’d hand me my coffee, we would greet each other and she would be back at her desk, ready to impress, as if she knew that I was watching her like a hawk. Of course, I played it off, acting as if she were just like all the other members of the team, when she wasn’t. Like I said before, she was competition. Being here only four months, she has to start from the bottom. But anyone at the bottom normally wants to get to the top. The top is my job. And though she worked hard day in and day out to take care of my wants and needs, she wanted my job.

“Oh well…” She stuttered a bit. This was already a new side of Karen Aguilar. She was normally straight to the point. She never said anything that would be deemed out of line, but her words were always heard. The fact that she was stumbling over herself told me we were traveling to a whole other territory. “Raine, I know you’re busy. I know you probably have some other project that you will be introducing to us at this morning’s meeting, but ….” I blinked slowly. Get to the point, I thought. My coffee is starting to cool. “There is a project that I wanted to run by you.” I took a deep breath.

“Well, who is the client?”

“My brother,” she answered. She kept eye contact the whole time she spoke. She had courage, but I could still see a hint of fear in her eyes. What if I said no?

“Who does he work for?” I asked.

“Himself,” she finished. I nodded my head. Now I could see why she felt a bit unease. A young man, working for himself. No larger name attached to it. It meant that no one knew of him. This would be a favor, a side project that would bring in little to no money. Our careers would be better without it, going with it, we may risk a lot, stand to lose a lot, depending on what was being advertised and if we help with any increase in sales. It would also put my name in jeopardy. I would be the one to take the project up to the board, pitching the idea, hoping that it would pass. Have I mentioned that I was successful, that I did my job very well? Well, I didn’t achieve all I had by pitching dumb, useless ideas. And I wasn’t going to start now. I took another deep breath.

“Get me a report on it,” I started. “Be very detailed, very specific. If you want me to pitch it to the board, you are going to have to pitch it to me first.” She nodded her head, eagerly, ready to start. “You have until Friday.”

“Yes ma’am,” she started.

“And you are doing this on your time, not mine,” I verified. Again, she nodded, having no objections. I heard the landline in my office ring. “Was there anything else?”

“No. Thank you Raine,” she said, the pitch in her voice higher than what it was before. I watched as she walked off, realizing I probably just made her day. I swung open the glass door of the office, walking over to the phone, putting the heavy receiver to my ear.

“Raine McClaren.”

“Good morning. How is my favorite Creative Director?” The voice was raspy, slow, but booming all at the same time. I knew it by heart.

“Mr. Davis,” I spoke out, grinning from ear to ear, as I fell back into a silver office chair, crossing my legs, as I leaned as far back as it would allow. Getting a call from one of the board members is always an honor. Mr. Davis always seemed to be fond of me. “How wonderful to hear from you! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I trust you got my email Ms. McClaren?” I shook my head, realizing I had yet to go through emails. Usually it was something that I looked over during my first cup of coffee, but I simply did not do so today. I sat up straighter, logging on my work email on the desktop computer. And sure enough, there was an email from Mr. Davis.

“Looking at it now sir,” I said, feeling bad that I hadn’t done so in the first place. I liked to be on top of things, both in the workplace and on a man. I skimmed through the words. My presence was being requested at a board meeting on the eleventh floor at 9 am. Twelve minutes and counting. “What is this in regards to?” Mr. Davis chuckled.

“Well, McClaren, to answer that question, you must come to the meeting. See you soon.” And just like that, he disconnected the line. I sat there, listening to silence. Being called up to the eleventh floor was always a serious thing. You were either getting promoted or getting fired. I took a deep breath. Please don’t let me lose my job today, I thought as I finally put the phone down. I stared out the glass windows of my office, seeing the little bees hard at work at their desks. My eyes wandered over to Karen. No way am I losing my job I thought. I was quick to type up an email to be sent out to the team, explaining that our morning meeting has been pushed back from nine thirty to ten-thirty am. And then, I was off.

            Eleventh floor. That’s where the meeting was being held, the meeting that required my appearance. That meant I had eight floors to get myself together. The large doors to the elevator shut, enclosing me in alone. I breathed in and I breathed out.

“What the hell is going on,” I thought out loud in quiet tones. “I swear if I am getting fired…” I am taking this whole place down with me. I closed my eyes. Another deep breath. How was my team efforts the last few months? Everyone did very well. Very few call outs. Appointments and deadlines were kept. What about our productivity? How many projects did we complete last quarter? My mind raced as I started to count them… Ding went the elevator. Suddenly the counting in my mind stopped. I opened my eyes, all the while clasping my hands before me. The doors opened and there he was… Jordan Cummings. He put pressure on his left foot as he waited for the elevator. His large hands rested in the perfectly snug pockets of his dark gray Armani dress pants. He was without the matching jacket, rocking a thin white button up shirt that was tight in all the right places. His silver and white tie shimmered, matching his seemingly gray eyes. His dark hair was pushed back, as it always is, putting that famous chiseled face on display. Our eyes met.

“Going up?” he asked, with a slight smile as he straightened his posture. I gave a nod. He stepped on, allowing the doors to close. I stared straight ahead, wanting to act as if he didn’t exist, but I could feel his eyes glancing over the features of my face. “You look nice today. New blouse?” I nodded, looking down at the sheer blue and white fabric, which was tucked into a tight black skirt.

“Yes it is actually,” I began with a smile, not going to shy away from a compliment.

“I think you missed a button though,” Jordan said, now having his whole body facing me. “Isn’t the objective of a blouse to cover…” He ran his hands over his chest. “Everything?” I blinked slowly, letting a sigh of annoyance escape my lips. He let out a soft chuckle. “Relax, I’m only joking.” He turned back towards the door. Tenth floor. Shouldn’t we be there by now? Ding. I awaited the doors, stepping ahead of Jordan. A few steps out and he speaks again. “I’m sure Mr. Davis will love it.”

“Bite me.”

“I would, but hasn’t everybody…” I stopped in my tracks, ready to whirl around and give him a piece of my mind. Why the hell was he following me? Didn’t he have a job to do?

“Jordan, don’t speak like you know what you’re talking about,” I stepped closer to him, staring up. I hated how tall he was. It was so attractive and the last thing that I wanted was to be attracted to this man. He stared down at me, almost amused.

“There they are!” The familiar voice boomed. I quickly turned around, hands in front of me again and I placed a grin on my face. “Mr. Cummings and Ms. McClaren! Nice of you to join us.” Mr. Davis spoke as if we were late. He wobbled over to us, a cane in hand. He was slightly round in the belly, a short stocky man, but that wasn’t what was causing his limp. It was simply old age. Last time I checked, Mr. Davis was around sixty five years old. He had thin gray hair on his head, but his mustache had a lot of volume. He wore a black suit, the jacket looking as if it would burst open at any moment to let his fat free.

“Mr. Davis.” Cummings spoke, as he shook the boss’s hand. I was next, flowing my fingers out to the old man. He took it gently into both of his hands, his fingers slightly brushing across my soft skin. I could feel the wrinkles of his flesh, but it didn’t bother me none. Neither did the kiss he placed right above my knuckles. I smiled politely.

“It’s good to see you Ms. McClaren.”

“No need to be formal,” I said, releasing my hand from his grasp. “Raine. Please.” The man nodded, his thin lips smiling back at me.

“Your name is absolutely beautiful, have I told you that?” I chuckled.

“Yes. Every time you hear it,” I responded. I could see Jordan rolling his eyes. I could only imagine all the snide comments he was building up for me in his head.

“Well, come on you two,” old man Davis spoke. “The meeting is about to start…” He was the first to disappear in a closed off board room.

“His eyes were on your chest the whole time,” Jordan mumbled from behind me. I quickly threw my arm back, slamming it into his stomach. Jordan held his groan.

           Five minutes passed and the board members were still making their way into the board room. I shook my head at their tardiness. I could have had time to finish my coffee, but I left it behind. I was sure it was on its way to being a cold unfulfilling taste. Such a waste. Jordan sat across from me, and Mr. Davis sat at the very front of the room. Seven additional men joined as well, and then finally the wooden door to the large room was closed. The meeting had commenced. There were quiet greetings until Mr. Davis rose to his feet, cane in hand, clutching it as tightly as he could. His blue eyes stared through his long light lashes as he scanned the room. We all stared back. Was I the only one that was clueless? Looking across the table, Jordan displayed the same look of confusion.

“I’m sure you all are wondering why I asked you here today,” Mr. Davis spoke, just before clearing his throat. His voice sounded hoarse. I wasn’t sure if it was because of his old age or if the man was coming down with some sort of summer cold. There were nods throughout the group. Great, I wasn’t the only one in the dark. So, what was going on? “This business, Quality Advertising, has been my life for the last forty years. It’s been runner up to my family for as long as I can remember, and quite honestly, I have reached an age where it’s hard for me to do both, to keep up in both. I’m either neglecting the business or disappointing my family… the struggle is… how do you young kids say? Real?” There were scattered chuckles. “I called you all here to announce my retirement.” The room stayed silent, but many people seemed to drop their jaws at the news. I sat up a little straighter, now interested. Quality Advertising without Alan Davis? I couldn’t imagine such a thing. Who would take the eighth spot as board member? Who would take over the spot of ‘Boss’? “So here’s the deal. My son has dreams to be an actor. I once told myself that I could trust him to take over the business, but quite honestly, he’d run it to the ground, and I cannot have that happen… hence the reason you all are here.” Where was he going with this? I felt my eyes grow a little wide as he continued on. “Seven of you…” He began to wobble around the large rectangular table, the sunlight streaming into the slightly opened blinds, brightening the room. “Seven of you already know the trade secrets. You know how I run my business. You know the ins and the outs. Most of you have been with me for ten years. The other two, Mr. Cummings and Raine, only four years, but you two are my top supervisors. You’re leaders. You take what you want. People love your work. When I read anything about Quality advertising, one, if not both, of your names are mentioned. So I trust that when I leave, I will be leaving this place…” He put his hands up in the air, praising his forty years of work. “In good hands.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Jordan asked. Mr. Davis placed his hands on the young man’s shoulder, standing behind him.

“I’m saying positions need to be filled.” He gave him a pat, as if shutting him up. The one thing I did know about Mr. Davis. He hated to be interrupted. I guess Jordan never got that message. “One of you seven,” he pointed to the stuffy old guys in the suits, “will take over the CEO position. My business will be your business. My son will hold one of the board member spots. Always. So that leaves, you two…” His eyes darted between Jordan and I. “Fighting over the 8th spot on the board.” Jordan eyed me, while I eyed everyone in this room. All the board members were old. They’d be ready to retire themselves in the next five to ten years. A light seemed to go on in my head. I could do better than a board member. I could be CEO. I hid my smile as best I could. My eyes locked with Jordan. He seemed confident, but the difference between Jordan and I was the fact that I saw the bigger picture.

            “So, our time has finally arrived,” Jordan hissed, his love for competition showing in his grin. We faced each other head on, waiting for the elevator doors to open. I was sure for a man like Jordan, fit, very well groomed with a lot of money in his pocket, competition was something that he didn’t get a lot of. Well, maybe he did, but he would always win by a landslide. He wanted something that would require a little more work, something that would be more satisfactory if he came out on top. Jordan and I have always been neck and neck, but there was nothing that we were fighting for specifically. Until now. I am a threat to him. What he doesn’t know is that I compete every day of my life. Being female, African-American, and working at an Advertising company filled with mainly men… I had to make sure I wasn’t going to be a laughing stock. I had to make something of myself. Leave a trail of good reviews behind me. I worked my ass off day in and day out for the spot that I am currently in, being the only female supervisor, pulling off the most public projects. No way, was I going to stay right where I was at. I belonged on that board. Hell, if I could pull off what I was thinking, I’d be the new CEO.

“Please Jordan,” I said with the roll of my eyes, “I’m going to blow you out the water.” He grinned.

“Do you know why Cummings is my last name?” I titled my head to the side, crossing my arms as well. This has got to be good. “When you think you’ve gotten rid of me. I am always right there. Coming for you. I am coming for you Raine!”

“Really? I always thought it was because you cum …prematurely.” His mouth dropped. I didn’t try to hide my smirk as I brushed past him and stepped on the elevator. “I’m guessing you’ll take the next one,” I finished, as I pressed the round button for the third floor. I admired the redness of his face, the anger he tried to mask. That’s how I want you to be when I win everything I thought as the doors closed.