Chapter 2
It was Thursday morning, and I found myself in New York for the second day. The journey here was quite different from my usual experiences. It was the first time I flew private; I had the honor of being on Mr. Martinez's jet alongside Nicole. Despite having moved around a lot growing up, I was mostly accustomed to long, tiring, smelly road trips. The flight was a whole new experience.
New York felt more overwhelming than I had anticipated, but Nicole assured me that I would gradually adjust to the city. I couldn't quite decipher if she was simply fulfilling her job responsibilities or genuinely being friendly, but either way, I was grateful for all the help she had provided.
Thanks to Nicole's connections, she managed to find me an affordable place to stay. She even negotiated a lower rent for the first two months. Although my studio apartment was small, it suited me perfectly. It had a decent-sized bathroom and kitchen, and the bed was incredibly comfortable. The first thing I did was take a long, hot shower, without feeling guilty.
Overall, things were going smoothly, except for one aspect—Oliver Martinez himself. I took my job seriously, did it well and strive to excel as a secretary, even if it's not my ultimate career goal. However, Oliver seemed to find fault in everything, nitpicking even when I performed my duties well.
***
I walked up to Oliver's office, determined to remind him in person about his upcoming meetings. Despite sending him several emails, I hadn't received any response. I glanced through the glass wall that separated our offices; we both disliked the arrangement, but it was necessary for us to be in close proximity.
I knocked on the door and waited for Oliver to tear his gaze away from the computer screen before entering.
"What do you want, Reynolds?" he asked, crossing his arms. I couldn't help but notice how his jacket hugged his biceps.
"I just came by to remind you about the meetings. You have one in 10 minutes, and around 10:15, you have the meeting with PetroTechs," I explained, holding the tablet in my hand.
"Only 10 minutes left? Who do I have a meeting with?" Panic flooded his face, causing him to sit up straight and quickly open our shared digital calendar.
"Gravity Fuel, Oliver Martinez," I reminded him, emphasizing the use of his full name. I quickly learned that he didn't like to be addressed as Mr. Martinez alone; he insisted on including his first name.
"Why do I have meetings with both Gravity Fuel and PetroTech today?" Oliver looked at me like I was crazy. I understood that scheduling two meetings with oil and gas companies on the same day might not be the wisest decision, but it was what he wanted.
"You specifically requested to meet with Gravity Fuel first, as they are your top choice, sir," I carefully replied. When he nodded in acknowledgment, I continued, "Unfortunately, they weren't available until today, and you wanted the meeting to be as early as possible."
"Still, you scheduled both for today?" he asked, sounding mildly frustrated.
"Sir, I confirmed these arrangements with you on Wednesday, and you personally requested Petro Tech to be scheduled for 10:15," I reminded him. When I initially double-checked with him, he seemed annoyed that I even questioned him.
"I see that I approved it, yes." Oliver's gaze remained fixed on the screen, his jaw momentarily clenched. "Okay, I'll head to the meeting room. Make sure these are taken care of before 12," he sighed, gathering the papers into a folder and handing them to me.
"Of course, sir,. I forced a smile as I took the folder.
Once I returned to my desk, I checked the contents of the folder and realized that they needed to be signed by the financial team, but not the one in this office. I would have to drive about half an hour away to get those signatures since refused to accept digital signatures for these documents Gathering my belongings, I headed straight to the other office, hoping it would be a quick visit. However, Mrs. Ramsing, whose signature I needed, wasn't due to arrive until 10 AM. I decided to pass the time by grabbing a drink. I had only had dry cereal this morning and tea at the office, so I was in need of something more. Across from the office, I spotted a charming café that seemed perfect.
I entered the café and joined the queue. I initially intended to order a regular iced coffee, but my eyes landed on the tempting caramel cookie delight drink. Despite my inner voice telling me to stick with the usual, I found myself still ordering the caramel drink when I reached the register.
As I took the first sip, a smile formed on my lips. I had no regrets about choosing this drink; it instantly improved my mood after dealing with Oliver. Glancing at my phone, I realized I still had an hour to kill. Feeling a bit uneasy sitting alone, I decided to head back to my car. On my way, the door almost slammed open, narrowly missing my face.
Startled, I let out a shriek, only to see an elderly man holding the door. He opened his mouth but froze in place, his eyes fixed on me, scanning me intently.
"Sorry, are you okay?" I quickly apologized, as if it were somehow my fault. The older gentleman across from me had me concerned for a moment, with the way his eyes widened and studied me.
"I'm so..." he began, still staring and not budging out of the way. "Sorry for staring, you... you remind me of someone dear to me," he explained, and suddenly his gaze didn't feel so strange.
"I hope it's someone wonderful," I joked, letting out a slightly awkward laugh.
"Trust me, she was one of the best people I ever had the privilege to know," the man said, a faint smile gracing his lips. His bright blue eyes softened as he reminisced. "Is there any chance I can buy you a cup of coffee? To make up for almost hitting you with the door?"
"A little late for more coffee," I wiggled my drink in front of him, and almost instantly, his lips formed a pout.
"What about those mango pastries? They're the best here," he suggested, pointing to the pastries display as he stood in the queue.
"I'm actually allergic to mangoes," I explained truthfully, and once again, he pouted. Now I felt bad for making the old man sad. "But I noticed they just got a fresh batch of blueberry muffins that I'd love to try," I blurted out without much thought.
"Perfect." He smiled, his pearly whites—maybe fake—on full display. "I'm Jace Clair," he introduced himself, and I shook his hand, providing him with my first name alone.
I found a table and decided it was time to make a new friend, even if it turned out to be someone who could be my grandfather. Who knows, maybe he'll have some valuable lessons to share with me. Either way, it was better than sitting alone in the car for an hour.
Jace returned with his drink and two blueberry muffins. As he sat down, he let out a soft sigh and took a moment to compose himself. His head was adorned with a crown of gray hair, and the silver-like streaks seemed to suit him perfectly. I couldn't help but notice the golden band on his ring finger, which made me wonder about his long-lasting marriage. It struck me that I had never really had a grandparent-like figure in my life, and I felt a sense of curiosity.
"Vanessa. That was my wife's name. We got married when we were 21, and today would have been our 51st anniversary," Jace revealed when he caught me staring at his wedding band.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Jace," I replied sincerely, quickly averting my gaze from the ring.
"It's okay. The 45 years I got to spend with her were the best." Jace smiled warmly at me.
And just like that, Jace began sharing more about his wife and their beautiful love story, the life they had built together. It was like listening to a fairy tale, and he narrated the stories with such passion that I couldn't help but be captivated. Soon enough, he started asking about my day, and I found myself venting about my difficult boss without mentioning any names or the company, of course.
It was safe to say that meeting Jace and having a conversation with him brightened my day even more than the caramel cookie delight drink.