toward men. I hooked up with women sometimes too, but it was rare. Leave it to a young guy with a nice body to get me to leave my comfortable bed and meet for—hopefully—wild sex.
No matter how good the sex was, though, I knew that heaviness would crash back down on me later once I was alone again.
It always did.
***
When my alarm went off at five o’clock the next morning, I groaned and shut it off. I didn’t get home until after midnight, so I’d maybe gotten four hours of sleep total. All for a piece of ass. A damn good piece of ass, but still.
After showering and throwing on one of my best suits, I drove to work, arriving with five minutes to spare. I rushed inside, tugging off my coat and gloves as I did and tossing them on the chair in the corner of my office before gathering the folder Reed had put together for me that had budget and sales information for the last quarter, as well as campaign plans for a big client we were trying to hook.
The meeting was just as much a review on my work performance as vice president as it was on an approval on our marketing plan.
Robert Crawford stood beside the chair at the head of the conference table, hands shoved into his pants pockets.
“I don’t like to be kept waiting, Sawyer,” he said, turning to me. “You’re a minute late.”
“Apologies, Mr. Crawford.” I technically was right on time, but I wasn’t going to argue that point with my boss.
“You have something for me?” he asked in a gruff voice. His eyebrows looked like two large white caterpillars, and when he furrowed them, they looked even bushier.
“Yes, sir.” I motioned to the table for him to sit, and he did, all the while glaring at me with his fuzzy eyebrows. I then laid out the folder and opened it to show him the design plans for the campaign and explained to him the direction we planned to go with it. “The social media team is already on top of building the client’s website, as well as working on ideas for promotional material before the big opening of the resort.”
“Your job is to ensure our company’s marketing efforts are making us money,” he grumbled as he flipped through the pages. “You feel it’s beneficial to waste so much time and resources on social media?”
“I do feel it’s beneficial,” I explained, keeping a steady tone and not letting my irritation show. Robert had looked down on me ever since I’d started working at the advertising agency seven years ago. He was thirty years older than me and felt like my ideas were too young. When really, he was stuck in the past. “The numbers don’t lie, Mr. Crawford. Look at the sales from last quarter. We have a top-notch marketing team filled with diverse and talented individuals who not only get things done, but they—”
He flicked his hand in the air. “Although I’m sure it was a nice, rehearsed speech, Sawyer, I don’t need to hear it.” He pointed to the paper. “You’re right about one thing. Numbers don’t lie. And these are some good ones. The project is approved.” He scooted back his chair and straightened his suit jacket as he stood. “As for your end-of-year review, keep doing what you’re doing. It seems to be working.”
He left the conference room without another word. I braced my arms on the table and puffed out a breath of relief.
“Good morning,” a soft voice said, breaking through the quiet. I looked up to see Reed standing in the doorway, bundled in a fitted red coat and a cream scarf. His light brown bangs were brushed to the side and held in place by a thin headband that matched the color of his coat. “I have your coffee.”
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing the folder off the table and walking toward him.
His brows shot up.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“No.” He handed me the large coffee and walked at my side as we left the conference room. “I’m just not used to you saying thank you.”
Huh? It wasn’t the first time I’d ever said it to him.
Was it?
“Did Jim Henderson agree to the meeting time?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.” Reed followed me into my office. “He’ll be here at one thirty, and I’ll have a PowerPoint ready.”
“Good.” I took a sip of the coffee before placing it on the desk, along with the folder. “Is my calendar