Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) (50 page)

I wake up to the comforting aroma of coffee but remain unmoved, convinced that if I lie here long enough the feeling of rejection and my hangover will become a distant memory. I try to wrap my mind around what happened last night.

Note to self: no good decisions are ever made drunk…on alcohol, lust or dessert.

I’m almost certain my parents told me a version of that at some point before I left for college, but for whatever reason that lesson didn’t stick with me into adulthood. Or at least not where Lucas is concerned.

Sleep didn’t come until the early hours of morning after Lucas put a stop to my birthday celebration, not that it mattered if I slept ten hours or two. My mind was spinning even while unconscious.

Lucas wasn’t rude or unkind like I’ve come to expect; quite the opposite. He was level-headed and mature. Exactly how I should be acting because, hello, it shouldn’t have happened at all. Still, the way things came to an abrupt end isn’t sitting well with me. Something about his tone and the way he refused to let me down face to face felt like he was preoccupied by something other than me.

I roll over in bed, hugging my pillow and replay his words over and over again.
We’ll talk tomorrow
. Not pick up where we left off…talk. And that was after he flat out refused me returning the favor. If that doesn’t send a message I’m not sure what would. This is like when he scolded me for kissing him at the bar only a million times worse.

Getting through the day is going to be a challenge. It’s not like we have the buffer of work to help iron out the awkwardness either. Today he’s supposed to be taking me around London. Given how we left things I’m guessing I’ll be spending most of the day by myself because I have no idea what to say to him.

Hey, how’s it hanging? It took me thirty minutes to wash the ice cream out of my hair and the few places on my body you didn’t lick clean. By the way, that was one hell of an orgasm. Thanks for that! Ready to check out St. Paul’s Cathedral?

Kill me now.

Groaning, I sit up a grab the mug that’s long since lost its steam but still tastes amazing. He made me coffee, that must count for something. He also left me a note.

Gym and errands. Be back.

Alright, it’s not like he’s completely avoiding me. I’m probably over reacting. Up until he left for condoms it was an amazing night. He was attentive, thoughtful, and charming. I don’t regret what happened but I hate not knowing where his head is at.

He’s emotionally unpredictable.

My phone chimes and if for no reason other than I need to get out of my own head, I check my email. It’s from Jack.

Gabby,

Approval for Lucas’s promotion is sitting in your queue. Email me when it’s done.

Jack

My aggravation soars to an all-time high.

First of all, why is this is a priority at 2AM his time? And second, I’m pretty sure I said I agreed Lucas was ready to be promoted, but I meant in a few months from now like it was planned. Not today. What’s the rush?

Unless Jack’s already made the decision to make Lucas his successor and told me he’d hold off on it to make me think I had a say.

Whatever. I’m so not in the mood for this.

Lucas isn’t ready to lead the division but he also isn’t the type to say no. If Jack gives him the chance he’ll just kill himself to succeed. And if Jack feels this strongly about it he’s going to do it anyway. Leaders find a way to bypass their HRBP’s all the time.

I get out of bed and fold the half-dozen shirts of Lucas’s that I hand washed with my shampoo last night when I couldn’t sleep and hung dry.
Heaven forbid there be a stain
. I smile at the memory of our ice cream shenanigans and pray that by some miracle the situation isn’t as grave as I imagine.

Needing resolution on where we stand one way or the other, I knock on Lucas’s door. There was no indication in his note of when he might return. Hell he could already be back. I can’t sit here feeling uncomfortable about last night. No, I need to be an adult. We need to talk and he offered to show me around. It’s our last day in London and I don’t want to waste it.

Time to rip off the Band-Aid.

Standing in front the adjoining door, I knock three times. When there’s no answer I try the doorknob and find it’s unlocked. Just like both of us have done countless times since we’ve been here I let myself in.

The place is a mess.

Melted ice cream remains on the cart and the pillows are scattered across the floor. Not that I’ve ever seen his apartment but I assume it’s organized and neat, exactly like his office. Until last night this room was impeccably clean. The thought of him sleeping with such disarray going on is unimaginable.

I guess I contributed to this clutter, maybe I should straighten up.

Intending to do that, I place the stack of his shirts on the table and freeze when something catches my eye. On the chair next to the table is a crumpled paper bag with a small box poking out of the top with the logo of a symbolic horse. Snooping is wrong but I can’t stop my hand from pulling the box out of the bag for confirmation.

Condoms.

I bite my lip to contain my excitement. Did they get a new shipment in this morning or did he scour the entire city last night? More importantly, why the hell didn’t he wake me up? Curious, I reach in the bag and fish out the receipt and triple check the time and date.

It’s from last night.

My elation deflates faster than a punctured balloon.

Lucas lied to me.

He didn’t have the guts to tell me he changed his mind and lied.

God, I might be sick.

I stare at the package. What the hell do I do now? Call him on it? What good will that do? I’m mortified enough as it is. He flew out of the room to buy these, actually purchased them and somewhere in the trip to the room decided I wasn’t what he wanted. I’m not sure I want to know the reason. Point is he made a decision and it wasn’t me.

I toss the condoms on the table and go back to my room where I pace for an eternity and still have no answer on how to proceed. My phone pings with a text from Jack and I nearly throw the thing across the wall. Here I am having a personal meltdown and he’s up my ass about a stupid approval. What the fuck?

Wait a minute.

I stop pacing and review the sequence of events. If Jack’s already had the promotion entered in the HRIS system and simply needs my approval there’s a good chance he’s already told Lucas. The only time Lucas was alone last night was when he went to hotel store. If Jack called Lucas and told him about the promotion after Lucas had made his purchase it makes sense that Lucas would be acting weird.

Assuming that’s what happened, at least he had a valid reason for pressing the pause button, though he didn’t need to be dishonest. To be sure I scroll through my emails from last night. Sure enough there’s an email from Jack to Lucas, sent at 5:38PM EST. I’m cc’d.

Lucas,

I’ve spoken with Gabby and have her approval to move forward with your promotion. Being that you’re already working at a more senior capacity I see no reason to wait. Effective immediately your title will be Senior Vice President, Strategy. We’ll discuss your new compensation when you return.

As I told you a couple of week ago, having a strong partnership with HR is essential to the success of the organization and your own success as a leader. Glad you decided to invest in the partnership.

Congratulations on this accomplishment and great work in London.

Jack

Lucas’s response came about an hour later.

Thanks, Jack—for the opportunity and the great advice. I wish I’d taken it sooner but given this news I’d say the energy spent building the relationship was well worth it.

I reread Lucas’s reply. The energy spent was well worth it? Why, because his promotion went through sooner than expected?

Anger courses through my veins.