Ryder
For the next few weeks, I did everything in my power to avoid the Brand Development department like the plague. It was an easy task. I was kept extremely busy with the fresh batch of issues that had emerged after I had found solutions to the previous ones. When I first started working in this industry, I had the notion that a successful agent would eventually reach a point where there were no active fires to put out. That if I worked diligently or for a sufficiently long period of time, I would be able to exhale slowly and deeply without feeling the throbbing pressure that comes from unresolved issues. After putting in a lot of effort for several years, I finally came to the conclusion that there was never a tipping point. If I had worked nonstop for the rest of my life, the length of time that people had to wait would have been unacceptable regardless of how much I accomplished.
But I came to realize that the issue wasn't with me; rather, it was due to the fact that this was an impatient town populated by people who wanted to come first and foremost to each and every person in their sphere of influence.
And as much as I wanted to deny it, narcissists are what made this world go round in the first place. It used to irritate me, but after twenty years of working in this field, I've finally come to realize that it takes a special kind of person to believe they have a shot at succeeding there. My roster would shrink to a size lower than what it had been when it was being maintained by my father if I only signed reasonable and levelheaded actors. In order for me to succeed in this field, I was forced to accept significant challenges in exchange for substantial benefits. When Samantha still lived at home, doing that was challenging, but now I have all the time in the world to get things done. If I so chose, I could spend each and every waking second putting out various fires. And if doing so prevented me from thinking particular inappropriate thoughts, then that was merely an additional advantage of doing so.
I literally and figuratively rolled up my sleeves and got my hands dirty for the remainder of the month of August. I took a ruthless approach to negotiating the contract, which resulted in me haggling late into the night. I found that I enjoyed this activity. Because I was responsible for my daughter, I was never able to fully immerse myself in something to the extent that I am doing now. It turned out that I enjoyed drifting off to sleep with thoughts of hundreds of millions of dollars going around and around in my head. In all honesty, it wasn't about the money at all. I had more than sufficient resources for the remainder of both my life and Samantha's. That was the obstacle to overcome.
It was difficult for me not to think about Lexie, who lived two floors below me, even on the infrequent mornings when I did not have a meeting or a problem to solve. I was able to catch a few glimpses of her as she made her way through the lobby, the golden highlights in her hair shining like a beacon.
Because I never saw her interacting with any of the other members of the brand development team, I was intrigued by her. I made an effort to learn how the company operated, and as a result, I was aware that their department was not the most welcoming. It crossed my mind to contact Angelina Bangert, who is in charge of it, but I was aware that doing so might not be of any use. Angelina made it abundantly clear to me a number of years ago that she desired to be more than just friends, but I declined her proposal.
Two weeks after the unfortunate encounter I had with Lexie on the sidewalk, Lyndon and I had lunch together. We went to a sandwich shop that was never busy because he didn't have much time, and we sat at a table with our backs to the shop's windows and under a striped awning. Before saying, "I don't have anything yet," Lyndon made sure there was no one else in the area by looking around several times before he spoke.
"Then why on fucking earth did you practically sweep the table for bugs before we sat down?" I inquired, completely frustrated. The extreme caution that Lyndon exercised became legendary. This was one of the reasons why he was the best, but it also made being his friend extremely frustrating at times. Even at the bar where we went for happy hour once a week for the past fifteen years, he insisted that we keep the same server and preferred to sit with his back against the wall.
Lyndon gave a casual shrug, displaying no concern. His philosophy held that if you never let your guard down, there is no chance that you will make a mistake. He took a bite out of his sandwich and began chewing, all the while keeping an eye out on the surrounding area as though he were conducting a risk assessment.
After he had finished swallowing, he continued, "She's got Hayes and Sons tailing you." "A company operating at the middle level that is falling. You've probably noticed."
I responded with a dry remark, "I've definitely noticed." The car that had been following me so closely for the past two weeks hadn't slowed down at all. On rare occasions, he would switch cars, but by this point, we pretty much considered it a running joke between us. I gave him the finger in response to his morning greeting wave of the hand. When I saw him sitting across the restaurant from me while I was having dinner there once, I decided to send him a drink, and when it arrived, he greeted me with a thumbs up.
According to Lyndon, "Word is, she paid them a retainer, but they haven't seen a dime since," the retainer payment was made by the client. "I wouldn't exactly call them highly motivated at this point in time."
“Good.” We sat together and enjoyed the silence while we munched on our sandwiches. I was standing there doing nothing but watching people go by. When Lyndon was looking at them, he did so with a focused intensity that caused some of them to turn their heads awkwardly.
He inquired, "Are you familiar with her?"
I looked up in the hopes of seeing a client, a colleague, or possibly even a potential client who knew me and wanted to work with me. I had hoped to see any of these people. I was caught off guard when Lexie turned her head to look at me. It was like being shocked by electricity when I first laid eyes on her. My pulse quickened and the hairs on the backs of my arms stood on end in response to what I heard. Naturally, Lyndon was able to see what was going on, and his eyebrows furrowed over his sunglasses.
"I guess you do."
Lexie was heading in our direction from the direction of the agency, but she must have halted when she saw me because she did not continue. After I had turned around to look at her, she immediately got up and started walking again. I could tell she didn't want to do it even though she had a strong chin because her hands were knotted together. I could tell she didn't want to do it.
When she got to us, she greeted us with a "Hi." She cast a swift glance in my direction before beaming a warm smile at Lyndon.
Lyndon immediately stood up straight and extended his hand. "Lyndon Campbell."
"Lexie Anderson." As she shook his hand, she flashed a bright smile and tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Samantha counts on me as one of her friends. My employment at Mr. Williams' company lasted for a whole year thanks to his generosity.
The fact that Lyndon's cheek twitched in amusement whenever someone referred to me as Mr. Williams was the only indication that he found the joke humorous.
"Ryder doesn't give anyone anything," he said. "No one gets anything from Ryder." It would appear that you had to put in a lot of effort to earn it.
I answered Lexie's question before she could respond by telling her, "She graduated with a grade point average of 4.2 and was accepted to several top law schools." I speculated that if she spent a year in this city, she might reconsider her goal of working in the entertainment industry as a lawyer.
When Lexie thanked me for the internship, she looked at me, and it was clear that she was surprised that I had looked at her resume. It was clear that she was surprised when she thanked me for the internship. In the beginning, I hadn't. When I opened her email for the first time in the past two weeks, I realized that I hadn't looked at the attachment in her email again. Even though it was obvious that it was the resume of a college student, the fact that it was so impressive should not be discounted. During lunch, she shared with us that she had held a leadership position in her sorority in the past. She also forwarded me her transcript, which revealed to me that the classes she was taking were challenging.
I looked into her eyes for the first time since I had yelled at her on the sidewalk two weeks earlier and said, "And don't call me Mr. Williams." "Ryder," he said.
When Lyndon said, "Or asshole," it caused her to laugh out loud.
She gave me a look before saying, "I'm going to stay with Ryder." When I turned around to look at her, I felt something that I could only describe as a chill. I could see Lyndon looking back and forth between us, his confusion turning into understanding, but I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
The bell on the door of the sandwich shop rang whenever someone finally emerged from the establishment. When she finally looked up, she had been preoccupied with other thoughts. It was impossible for me to take my eyes off the way the skin on her cheek, jaw, and the diamond stud in her earlobe glistened.
Her words, "I should go get my lunch," were the words that finally broke the spell.
I purposefully diverted my attention away from her in order to prevent her from regaining it later. My pulse was racing, and I could feel a dull ache all over my body. My heart was beating too quickly. I tried not to focus on the fact that her skin was radiant and that her hair was blonde gold. In addition to that, I didn't want Lyndon to realize that I was paying attention to what he was saying. It was as if his eyes were drilling holes through the side of my head. When I hadn't turned around to look at him, he said to Lexie, "I'll pull up a chair."
"Oh, no," she exclaimed in a hasty manner. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay here because I have a meeting. It was a pleasure getting to know you, Lyndon. Ryder, I'll see you back at work."
As she entered the building, the bell rang once more. After Lyndon waited for the door to close behind her and then looked at me with raised eyebrows, the door finally closed.
“What?” I asked belligerently.
He instructed her by saying, "That is what I want you to do."
"I guess what I'm trying to get at is, 'What the hell are you thinking?'" You certainly did get everyone to swear on their children's lives that they wouldn't touch this girl, didn't you?
I shot him a killing look. "I'm not thinking anything. Don't tell me what you think I'm thinking, you fucking jerk; don't tell me what you think I'm thinking.
"That is some very sound counsel. Make sure you listen to that advice because it was given to you by your daughter's best friend. Although Lyndon's tone was soothing and pleasant, it was obvious that he was trying to caution us in some way.
Despite the fact that I knew it was done with good intentions, it made me furious. Lyndon was aware of the way in which I was observing Lexie. Having the intended effect. He was attempting to protect me from getting into trouble, much like Andrew did for his clients in his role as a crisis manager. However, this was not an emergency, and I did not require any assistance at this time.
I responded by saying, "I am familiar with her. Even if she weren't Samantha's best friend, she is still working for the Williams Agency even if she was hired there. In most cases, I avoid conflict with my staff members.
“Good. Don't make a fool of yourself." Lyndon resigned himself to his fate and prepared to give up.
But when Lexie came back out holding the box with her sandwich, I couldn't help but follow her with my eyes all the way down the sidewalk until she crossed the street with quick, light steps and was out of sight. Even after she had crossed the street, I couldn't help but follow her with my eyes until she was completely out of sight.
Lyndon gave a shrug and let out a long sigh. He didn't even need to utter a single word. I knew.
I had problems.