Entangled To The CEO

Rainer’s [POV]

I watched Tasha Nichols march out of the elevator and stride off down the office hallway.

Hyperion Industries was a huge corporation, so it shouldn’t have bothered me that I didn’t know where her office was before today.

The detail that struck me was the direction she took to get there.

All the junior executives had offices on the same floor despite our varied department focuses.

It was meant to make us feel like a larger team, in charge of the masses on the multiple floors below.

Our floor was supposed to be an equalizer, but as I watched Tasha go, I realized how obvious the hierarchy was structured.

Junior executives who fit the part sucked up to the higher-ups and played the game all had offices on the east side of the building, overlooking San Francisco Bay.

Those who weren’t as highly favored had their offices facing the gray behemoth building on the west side.

No wonder I hardly ever ran into Tasha; her office was on the far west side of the floor. George elbowed me as he left the elevator.

“She looks good, I’ll give her that, but I don’t think she looks like boss material.” Our cronies laughed as they made their way down the east-side hallway and into their offices.

The elevator doors shut, and I savored the few minutes alone. I wanted to prepare myself for the press conference, but I found myself remembering Tasha’s penetrating look instead.

Later, after the buzz and flash of the press conference, I found myself hesitating outside the elevator again.

I took two steps down the west hallway but could not come up with a legitimate reason to visit Tasha in her office.

And, by now, she knew what I’d done and was probably plotting the demise of my career.

“What career,” I muttered. I dragged myself to my office to wait out the ten minutes before the big product meeting. It wasn’t my office role to be early.

“Mr. Maxwell, congratulations!” My overeager assistant, Topher, jumped up from his desk and rushed around to shake my hand.

“Word is already going around that you nailed the press conference. What was that line you delivered about respect? I think the GroGreen app should use that as a slogan.” I slapped him on the back.

“All I did was point out that we respect nature and now there’s an app to help nature respect our busy schedules.”

“Amazing, sir. I’m so impressed how you memorized all that information and went to that party last night.” I could tell that Topher was dying to hear some details about the glamorous product release party.

He was practically drooling over his daydreams of tailored suits and palm-greasing business deals. It tied my stomach in a tight knot.

“Someone’s got to do the hard work,” I said. Topher laughed and returned to his desk.

“I’ve been reviewing all the product memos, but I’m still not sure I could convince the world to buy it. You are very talented, sir.” I thought of Tasha Nichols.

All the hard work had been hers, and yet the entire office was ready to put the laurels on my head.

I knew it was wrong, but I also knew this was how our business went.

Hyperion got ahead on the image just as much as innovation.

“It’s got nothing to do with me,” I said.All content is © N0velDrama.Org.

“The GroGreen app is going to change the way that people garden. It helps organize ideas, plot out the best use of the garden space, and keep the planting, watering, and everything on a tight schedule.”

“Not to mention how fun the garden simulator is.” He held up his phone.

“I’ve already got sprouts popping up in my first rows.” I glanced at his screen, impressed with the graphics.

Tasha’s team had an excellent eye for details, and she made sure the application had everything that a budding gardener might need or want.

“Why don’t you get a little planter box and plant some real seeds?” I asked Topher.

My assistant shook his head and adjusted the crisp white cuffs of his shirt.

“I wouldn’t want to get dirt in here. Virtual gardening is good enough for me. Wait until you see my GroGreen page tomorrow.”

“Right,” I said, vaguely annoyed by his response.

I moved past Topher’s desk and into my office. At a loss for anything productive to do, I headed straight for the window.

The view was significantly lower than the panorama of the penthouse office, but I was facing the right way and sure to work my way upstairs.

I wondered how Tasha felt in her office overlooking the gray facade of another building. The contrast made me uncomfortable.

“Sir, you’re on!” Topher scuttled into my office and turned on my large flat-screen television.

“You’re the headline story.” The business news segment started with a few still shots of me at the product launch party.

The news anchor played up the angle of me as the industry playboy, always on the first wave of the best parties and trends.

I cringed as I saw myself caught on camera with woman after beautiful woman.

Sure, it was just publicity, but it all seemed so ridiculous.

My stomach churned as the news anchor went on and on about the amount of champagne that flowed.

“And Hyperion Industries certainly has much to celebrate as the product sales are quickly outpacing any new app we’ve seen since PokeGo,” the business anchor reported.

Topher was hopping from one foot to the other in his excitement. All rumors and reports were pointing to a huge success.

“I can’t wait for the meeting, sir. Can you even imagine the kind of bonus you’ll be getting?”

“The profits get spread out over hundreds of people,” I reminded my assistant.

“And I just came in on the tail-end to help with public relations. I’m sure the long-term team members will get much more.” Topher shook his head.

“No, sir, I checked. All junior executives are considered equal pay no matter how long they have worked on a project.”

“Speaking of work,” I said.

“I need a minute to return some calls.” Topher nodded and trotted back out the door.

I sat down at my desk and kicked my heels up on the corner, knowing full well my assistant would look back as he shut the door.

The young man grinned, seeing me as the lounging picture of success.

If only he knew how my stomach worked into tighter knots as I smiled.

Once my office door was closed, the smile disappeared.

I sagged farther down in my chair and stared at my shoes.

Stupid, shiny things that I’d paid more for than most people spent on their cars.

Those shoes were good-looking but lacked a substantive sole.

I slammed my feet onto the plush carpet and rubbed my hands over my face.

If it was true what people say about judging a man based on his shoes, then I should have been exposed as a fraud a long time ago: I was all polish and had no soul.

I fumbled for the remote and turned the television off.

It was too ridiculous to see my smiling face all over the news. I scowled into the sudden silence.

I knew there was no shame in playing the game, and it had gotten me far, but I was sick of my hype.

The office playboy who the women loved and the men wanted to be. The public relations man who could spin any situation.

The junior executive with the solid gold charm. I was going places.

The only reason I had been added to the GroGreen project was my reputation.

The top execs knew they had success on their hands and they wanted to make sure they stamped it with their brand of work.

I was to represent Hyperion’s old-school style while showing off the latest innovations.

How did anyone believe that two-martini lunches, passing the buck, and stealing the credit created the next step in technology?

Because I made them believe it. It was a cheap trick and reminded me of the shell game I learned when I was little.

I robbed my brother of all his quarters before he realized I was a cheat.

When he complained to my father, my father only told pointed out that was the way the game was played.

“Mr. Maxwell? Your brother is on line two.” Topher buzzed the call through to my desk.