Professional Boundaries Page 7

  I was beyond happy to have the weekend over with. Typically, I reveled in them. Sure, I loved my job, but I loved evenings and weekends more. However, I needed to get away from myself and my thoughts; I needed to work even though I knew working meant seeing Ian. True, I wouldn’t likely see him a lot; it wasn’t like Boss and I worked together constantly. In fact, he ran his accounts and I ran mine and I took care of the running of the office. We met weekly, and sometimes we collaborated, but it wasn’t an everyday thing. I was sure Ian would want to collaborate even less. He was the type who hated group projects. He liked doing things on his own.

  I got up super early on Monday and dressed with a purpose. My sister was right; I was going to show him what he’d missed out on. I wore a nude pencil skirt that left no question I was a woman, a very feminine yet chic red wrap-around blouse, and beige suede peep-toe pumps. I may not have been the new boss, but I sure looked like it. The red lipstick was even coming out again. If I had been one to take selfies, this would’ve been the morning for it. I pulled my hair up in a messy yet sexy bun, made my lunch, and then was out the door with a spring in my step.

  I was hoping to be the first one there, but I was disappointed when I saw the Infiniti with Colorado license plates. Dang it. Delfia wasn’t even there. No matter, I was a big girl. I just needed to remember to treat him like I had never known him before. I was going to be professional. I proudly walked in to the empty foyer and made my way up the stairs. I took a deep breath before I opened the door. It felt right. I belonged here, no matter who the director was. I smiled to myself before I opened the door to the executive level.

  I heard Ian before I saw him. It sounded like he was still using the conference room, which made sense. Boss was still going to be working there that week while he turned everything over to Ian. I think he also wanted to be there just in case he needed to referee, but I planned to be on my best behavior, or basically employ a simple strategy of avoidance, if I could get away with it. Unfortunately, that didn’t work so well when I tried to scoot pass the conference room unnoticed.

  It was like he was waiting for me, like a cheetah ready to pounce on its prey. He immediately met me at the conference room door as I passed. “Good morning,” he said.

  I wanted to say it was a good morning, until that moment, but I acted professional. “Good morning. Did you have a nice weekend?” That was professional, right?

  He thought for a second and pressed his lips together. I also noticed that his eyes drifted over me. “It was interesting. How was yours?”

  “Just fabulous.”

  His eyes narrowed. He knew I was being sarcastic. We both stood silent for a moment.

  “Well, ok. Have a good day.” I began to walk off, criticizing myself for sounding so stupid. I was supposed to sound professional, not like an awkward ex-girlfriend.

  “I’d like to meet with you later today to discuss the digital ad software. Let me know what your schedule looks like,” he called out after me.

  I took a deep breath, and before I turned around, I reminded myself to treat him like I would any colleague, even though he was already getting on my nerves. “I’ll send you a copy of my schedule, and you can let me know what works best for you.”

  He smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Bryant.”

  I had already begun to turn around, but I stopped dead in my tracks and turned toward him again. “Did you just call me, Ms. Bryant?”

  “Yes,” he said with no apology. “I feel it’s important to maintain professional boundaries with my employees within the office.”

  There were so many things I wanted to say, including what a pompous twit he was, but I kept it together. “I see, Mr. Greyson.”

  He looked like he was going to respond, but he thought the better of it and just turned and went back to the conference room. I headed back to my office and shut the door harder than I intended to. I sat at my desk and just stewed. What was all this bull about professional boundaries? If he thought he was treating me like just another employee, he had another thing coming. Boss said this was a partnership, and Boss had treated me like a partner. Seriously, Ms. Bryant? What an idiot!

  As soon as my laptop came up, I immediately began to fill my schedule for the day. I smiled to myself. Looks like I won’t have much time for that meeting with Mr. Greyson after all. I almost laughed, thinking about his formality. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but seriously, this wasn’t the 1950’s, and I wasn’t some little girl that took orders. With more than a little glee, I emailed him my packed schedule and then went to work catching up on all the email I had missed on Friday.

  Halfway through me playing catch up, Delfia came in and gave me a big hug. “You don’t know how afraid I was you weren’t coming back.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back and made you worry. I just needed to … sort some things out.”

  “So what’s up with you and the new boss?” she asked quietly, but wickedly.

  I knew I needed to proceed with caution. I had no desire for the whole office to know that Mr. Greyson and I once dated and that I was more than smitten with him. I loved Delfia, but she was the queen of office gossip.

  “What do you mean?” I said innocently. Or as innocent as you can get when you’re lying.

  She practically laughed at me. “Oh, honey. There’s definitely a history between the two of you.”

  I tried to answer with the truth without telling the whole truth. “He was my calculus tutor my freshman year in college.” That was the truth.

  Her eyes gleamed, and she pursed her lips. “Why do I get the feeling those were private lessons?”

  “Delfia!”

  “Fine, you don’t have to tell me, but I have a feeling it’s going to get real interesting around here.”

  I didn’t even bother with a rebuttal. I just let her walk out laughing to herself. She was right, though; things were going to get real interesting. In fact, “interesting” only took a few minutes. Mr. Professional Boundaries decided to grace my office doorway with his presence, and here I’d thought I wouldn’t see him all day.

  “Can I help you, Mr. Greyson?” I tried to keep the derision out of my voice, but my nineteen-year-old self begged for it to come out. I mean, for heaven’s sake, this man used to wrap me up in his arms and kiss me until I saw stars, and then he would whisper in my ear, “Kelli, I’m crazy about you.” Now here he was expecting me to call him, “Mr. Greyson.”

  He raised his eyebrow at me. “Do you have a problem with calling me Mr. Greyson?”

  I saluted him. “No sir.”

  So much for being professional. I looked at the time. That had lasted all of about forty-five minutes.

  “Kel—”

  I smirked at him

  “Ms. Bryant, in my experience, it’s important that someone in my position set the proper expectation. I’m not here to make friends. ”

  I so badly wanted to comment. I had the best comeback on the tip of my tongue; it took everything I had for me not to say what I so desperately wanted to. I wondered if Boss knew what an arrogant jerk he had hired to take his place. We were going from the man that was everyone’s friend to a man that apparently wanted to be an island.

  I held in my comment, but it was really hard.

  “Do you have something to say?” he asked arrogantly.

  I just shook my head no, but he knew me better. He knew I had something to say. He waited several seconds before he spoke again. It was like he was daring me to say it. I almost did, but it was like a battle of wills, and I planned on being the victor. When he realized I wouldn’t be rising to the sarcastic occasion, he invited himself all the way into my office and came around and stood behind me at my desk. I thought it was odd.

  He leaned down and looked over my shoulder and pointed to my screen. “Would you mind pulling up your schedule?”

  Oh, he smelled good. He was still wearing the same cologne he had so many years ago. It was a warm, spicy scent. It drove me crazy, and when I looked o
ver to him, our faces were too close for comfort. I immediately turned and complied with his request and tried to ignore my rapid heartbeat. This was ridiculous.

  My schedule immediately popped up, and he reached over and began touching the screen asking about each appointment and asking if it could be rescheduled. Each time I replied in the negative. He was becoming increasingly frustrated with me. Good, I thought.

  “How about a working lunch?” he suggested.

  “Hmm … I had wanted to run some errands.”

  “Kel— I mean, Ms. Bryant.”

  I loved how he couldn’t even stick with his own dumb rules.

  “It’s important that we meet. I would be happy to have Ms. King (aka Delfia), order something in for us. Or if you would like, we can go out somewhere together.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. He was giving me a headache. I really didn’t want to meet with him, but I knew I couldn’t keep avoiding it; the more I put it off, the worse it would be.

  “I brought my lunch. I’ll meet you in the conference room at noon,” I replied in resignation.

  He stood up straight. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it, Ms. Bryant?”

  I turned my chair and narrowed my eyes at him. “Is that all, Mr. Greyson? As you can see, I’m busy.”

  “I look forward to meeting with you,” he said while walking out.

  Yeah, well that makes one of us, buddy! I crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at the door.

  I peeked out my office door to see Delfia trying to hold back her laughter. I just shook my head, threw my earbuds in, and went to work. I had emails and proposals that needed my attention.

  The only interruption I welcomed was Boss coming in to wish me a good morning. “You look good in this office kiddo,” he said. I wanted to say I would look even better in the adjoining office, but I just left it alone. What’s done is done.

  The morning unfortunately flew by between catching up on email, sending out two proposals, and having a conference call with a demo. As noon approached, I headed to my private bathroom and touched up my make-up. I knew it could have seemed like I wanted to impress my new boss, but I would have done it for anyone, and mostly for myself. I pulled up the roadmap for the product on my laptop before I undocked it and grabbed my lunch. Then I made my way over to the conference room. Delfia smiled devilishly at me as I walked by. I shook my head at her and smiled back.

  “By the way, you look sizzling today,” she whispered.

  I laughed and kept on walking. I loved her. I walked in to find Ian, I mean, well you know who, set up with two laptops running, surrounded by a myriad of files. It also looked like he had ordered in sushi. Yuck! When he noticed me, he stood up and pulled out the chair next to him. Ugh, I was planning on sitting across from him. Once again, he thwarted my plans.

  I begrudgingly took the seat next to him. “Thank you,” I said somewhat politely. I almost added in that it was probably crossing a professional boundary for him to pull out my chair, but I decided to keep that to myself and get this meeting over with.

  “Would you like some sushi?” he asked as soon as I was situated.

  “Uh, no thanks. We like our fish fried here in the south.”

  He kind of laughed. “You might like it.”

  I just shook my head no and pulled out my crunchy peanut butter and plum jam on whole wheat bread sandwich.

  Before I took a bite, he looked at my sandwich, “Remember that day in the park when …” he trailed off.

  I looked over to him as he continued to stare at my sandwich and then he looked at me. For a brief moment, I saw the old Ian. It was a little disconcerting, but then, just like that, it was gone.

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe you still eat those.”

  I had probably eaten more peanut butter and jam sandwiches than I could count, but I still loved them. They were a reminder of childhood and happy times. Some of those happy times even included him. I wondered what day in the park he had remembered, because there were several to choose from. It was our favorite place to study and engage in other activities.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Well, I can’t believe people eat raw fish.”

  He held up sushi roll in response and downed it.

  I went back to my plain sandwich. “So what did you want to discuss?” I asked after a few bites.

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin and then pulled up a file on the laptop closest to him.

  “I wanted to discuss the direction of the product, new feature enhancements, branding etc.”

  “Great, I’ve been working on a roadmap …”

  He didn’t even let me finish my sentence before he began showing me mock ups of a totally revamped product. It looked nothing like the original. It was very sleek and slightly complicated.

  “Have you ever worked with banks and credit unions before?” I interrupted him after several minutes.

  “A few,” he responded.

  “Ok. Then did you know that most marketing departments, especially in smaller financial institutions, don’t have access to IT departments, and most of them lack high tech skills?”

  “This product doesn’t just have to be utilized by financial clients.”

  “I agree, and I would like to branch out to other verticals, but I don’t want to alienate our current clientele in the meantime. I believe the roadmap I’ve created addresses both issues.”

  He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “Show me what you have.” It was like he was daring me to dazzle him.

  No problem, I thought. I pulled up my road map that included a presentation outlining what I believed to be key feature enhancements like an expanded ad library and tools to create your own ads with ability to add branding and logos. I discussed my idea for tier levels of features and support with varying price points, and I also mapped out a free version with a limited feature set with just enough to water their mouths in the hopes of turning them into paying customers. Intermittently, I looked at Mr. Greyson and found him engrossed in the presentation. When I was done, I turned toward him.

  He grinned and nodded his head. “I’m impressed.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am,” he said with no hint of apology.

  I couldn’t help it, I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “What did you expect?”

  He briefly touched my hand, but quickly he seemed to realize that was crossing professional boundaries; he pulled it back, but it wasn’t quick enough. It was like my hand was saying, “Hey, I remember that touch.” And unfortunately it liked it. Dumb hand.

  “You’re taking that wrong.”

  “Oh really, how should I take it?”

  He leaned forward, toward me. “Are you going to be sensitive about everything I say?”

  I leaned closer.

  “Do you plan on continually being condescending, Mr. Greyson?”

  We both stared hard at one another for several moments. Boss walked in and caught us in our staring battle. We both quickly moved apart and sat up straight. I smoothed out my blouse. Boss looked between the two of us. I could feel my cheeks redden out of embarrassment and anger.

  “Great, I’m glad to find you both together,” Boss said.

  “Ms. Bryant was just showing me her roadmap,” Ian, or whoever he was, informed Boss.

  Boss smiled and winked at me. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  “Very,” you-know-who replied. Then he ruined it. “But I would like to add in a few more feature enhancements like more variability and ordering control. I would also like to bring in a graphic designer to update the interface.”

  I whipped around to look at him. “What’s wrong with the current design?”

  “It’s too busy and a bit outdated.”

  I looked at Boss for support. That was my design, and we had carefully gone through several versions until we got it right. We had even sent it out to several potential clients for feedback.

  Boss looked uncomfortable as he pulled on his co
llar. “Kelli, maybe this is a good time to turn over the design work to someone else, so you can focus more on marketing and selling the product.”

  My shoulders dropped. How could Boss take his side?

  “I didn’t realize the design was yours,” Ian said.

  I glared at him. I wanted to say it wouldn’t have made a difference, he still would have said the same thing, but all I could manage was, “Is our meeting over, Mr. Greyson?”

  “What’s with all the formality between you two?” Boss asked.

  I stood up without Ian’s answer; I was declaring the meeting over. “Mr. Greyson feels it sets the proper boundaries between himself and his employees.” I almost said lowly subjects, but that would have been going too far.

  I walked to the door and looked back at Boss’ confused face and Ian’s stunned one. “Excuse me, I have an appointment.”

  There was no need to say it was with me, myself, and I. I headed straight for my office and quickly put on my walking shoes and grabbed a jacket. I needed to walk around the lake to clear my head and possibly reevaluate my decision to work for Mr. Pain in My … Backside. As I walked back past the conference room, I could see Boss and Ian in deep discussion on the other side of the now-closed door. I’m sure my name was being brought up. I just kept on walking.

  When I hit the cool air, I breathed in deeply. I felt so out of control. I couldn’t, in recent memory, remember feeling so out of sorts. I needed to get it together, but for some reason I just couldn’t seem to no matter how I tried. As I walked, I just tried to focus on my breathing and tried not to think about the idiot that occupied the conference room and ate sushi. Ok, I thought, I hope his sushi was tainted. He deserved a good case of food poisoning. How dare he be surprised that I actually have talent, and how dare he call my designs outdated! I worked hard on those, and I researched the best color schemes, patterns and placements for ease of use and aesthetics.