ONE: Taryn

ONE

TARYN

Last Christmas

Seattle Washington

“Oh, come onnn! Come on, please!” I honk my horn in the stalled morning traffic.

Don’t panic, Taryn. Don’t panic. You’re still early.

“Taryn, we discussed road rage last week, didn’t we?” A soft voice comes through my speakers, instantly reminding me I’m not alone.

My therapist has insisted on short morning sessions every holiday season for as long as I can remember, and I forget she’s listening most of the time.

“Yeah, sorry,” I say, holding back a sigh. “Do you think James Calloway wakes up for work as early as I do?”

“James Calloway is not my patient.”

“He’s your patient’s biggest enemy, though…”

“Taryn, for the umpteenth time, it’s not healthy for you to give so much attention to one person.”

“I’m just asking a simple question. I bet he’s up right now, thinking of new ways to sabotage me.”

“I can assure you that obsessing like this hurts you far more than it hurts him.”

Bullshit… “If you ever met this man, I promise you would change your diagnosis.”

“Taryn…”

“Can I bring him with me to my next in-person session?” I ask. “I feel like you would stop giving me this bad advice if you saw him in the flesh.”

“No.” Her voice is firm. “Let’s not spend the rest of the morning talking about him, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod as if she can see me.

“Why don’t we talk about something else?”

I don’t have anything else. “Um…”

“Are you looking forward to spending time with your family for the holidays?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “I’ve had my bags packed for months. Staying at The Grace Estate with them is always the best part of my year.”

“Do you ever consider asking them to show you old pictures from the years you can’t remember?”

“I…” Her question hits me like a ton of bricks; it’s the real reason I have a therapist, to see if one of these days I can unlock memories since “the accident” that I never address, but it’s been years with zero progress.

“That’s okay,” she says. “Is anything good happening for you at work?”

“I’m being considered for a huge promotion.”

“Oh wow, that’s amazing.”

“Against James Calloway ,” I say. “I swear, if he gets this over me, I might plot his murder. You can’t testify against me in court, right?”

“Okay, that’s it.”

“Just hear me out,” I say, launching into a spiel I’ve given her countless times before.

I know it’s not his fault that I wasted years in failed companies or got sucked into pyramid schemes, but after finding my true calling in marketing, it’s not fair that he’s standing in my way.

He can sell someone a cure for a disease they don't have. Can sell a stranger anything with a single line from his perfectly molded mouth or from the way his sapphire eyes make you believe in every word he says.

And he knows it.

“But that doesn’t make him better than me, you know?” I say. “He has to know that.”

Silence.

“Hello?” I ask. “Dr. Foster, are you still there?”

Before I can check to see if she hung up on me, the light turns green.

Forgetting about therapy, I keep my focus on the road and mentally flip through the files I've worked on all year.

When I finally reach company headquarters, I pull into my special “Creative Director” spot and rush to the top level.

“Good morning, Miss Stone!” My assistant, Eliza, hands me a bottle ofwater.

“Did you slash Mr. Calloway’s tires like I requested?”

“The only one I missed was the left rear.”

“What about his coffee?”

“I made sure the barista used cayenne pepper, and I told her not to add his usual cinnamon for today.”

“Great job!” I follow her into my office and hit the lights.

The moment I drop my purse, the chair behind my desk spins around, and Satan smiles at me.

“Good morning, Miss Stone ,” James Calloway says, his voice deep. “How are you on this lovely Monday morning?”

“I’d be a lot better if my sworn enemy wasn’t sitting in my favorite chair.”

“In addition to damaging my tires and messing with my coffee, your assistant also stuck super glue inside my office lock.” He stands up, keeping his eyes on mine. “Aren’t you going to ask her about that?”

I say nothing as he nears me, and I resist inhaling his sexy cologne.

“I thought you were bigger than this, Miss Stone.” He tries to sound like the bigger person. “With so much on the line, I could’ve sworn we agreed not to play games with each other anymore.”

“Was that before or after you locked me out of this building for an entire weekend?”

“ After .” He pulls a pink “Good luck” card from his jacket and holds it out for me. “For the record, I wish you all the luck in the world.”

“That’s the last thing I want from you.”

“What’s the first?”

“Your death.”

He lets out a low laugh, and I hate my body for warming all over as if this man isn’t the reason I fly into a rage multiple times a week.

“Um…” Eliza clears her throat. “Do you still want me to fuck up Mr. Calloway’s dry cleaning? Since he’s already here, I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“You can go ahead and do that, Miss Eliza.” James narrows his eyes at me. “I haven’t even begun to get my staff started on Miss Stone this week.”

“Okay, enough you two!” David Waldman, the CFO, steps into the room. “How old are you?”

“He thinks he’s seventeen,” “She still believes she’s a teenager,” we answer in unison.

“So, you’re both children.” He groans. “As talented as you two are, you need to grow the hell up. Starting today.”

“Yes, sir,” we say, again in unison.

“Walk away from each other.”

We don’t move.

“ Now .”

We remain still.

“Focus on your afternoon meeting with Mr. Adeleman.” Mr. Waldman grabs James by the hand and pulls him away. “May God help the rest of us…”

Later that afternoon, I slide my files into my folder and take a deep breath before heading to the elevator.

This promotion is mine. All mine…

The doors glide open, revealing James standing alone.

I consider letting him go up by himself, but letting him get there first may not be a good impression.

Stepping inside, I move across from him.

As the car rises, we stare at our reflections in the mirrored glass.

“Off the record,” he says, “you look beautiful today, Taryn.”

I ignore him.

“I like it when you wear your hair up like that.”

“Stop talking to me.”

“Is that a new dress?”

Yes. I bite my lip and focus on the climbing numbers above us.

“Regardless of what happens today, I think you’re brilliant.”

“Your compliments won’t make me hate you any less.” I finally snap. “And if you think that five seconds of flattery will make me forget how much you’ve tried to sabotage me since I started working here, it won’t.”

“Sabotage you by being a better marketer?”

“Thanks for reminding me why I was ignoring you.” I press the floor button repeatedly, as if that’ll make this ride go any faster.

“Is that a hickey on your neck?” James leans closer.

“Maybe.”

“Since when are you dating someone?”

The doors open before I can tell him to mind his business.

If we were on friendlier terms, I’d tell him the truth about losing a fight with my curling iron this morning.

“Someone special wanted to kiss me for good luck.”

“I see.” He clenches his jaw. “How nice.”

“It was.” I step off first, feeling him right behind me.

“Well good afternoon!” Mr. Adeleman greets us in his office. “Come on in and have a seat on my brand-new couch!”

James and I exchange glances.

Mr. Adeleman hasn’t had furniture in his office for years. The only things in this room are a bean bag and a freezer. The latter is where he keeps a personal collection of popsicles.

There’s also a floor-length picture of him from his younger days, a sharp contrast to the frail grey-haired man standing before us today.

“You know, it’s not every day that I’m making a decision on who will step into my shoes.” He pauses. “I wear a size eleven in shoes, you know? They don’t make good leather shoes like they used to.”

I force a smile, bracing for one of his long, rambling stories.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about my company,” he says. “It’s called Magnolia Marketing. I named it after my favorite tree…My favorite tree is a magnolia, you know?”

We say nothing.

We just stare at him.

“Well, Mr. Calloway and Miss Stone,” he says. “I’m sure you want me to get to the point, so I won’t make you wait. I’m very happy with the work you both…”

His sentence hangs in the air unfinished, and he stands still for several seconds with his mouth hanging open.

“I’m proud of both of you and all you’ve brought to my firm, and this was an incredibly hard decision, but…” He looks between us, and I swear I’m tempted to grab his neck and shake the decision out of him.

“I have to go with the woman who toils tirelessly, knows marketing like nobody else, and she—well, he …James Calloway.”

WHAT? “ Sir, did you mean to say Taryn Stone?”

“Don’t be upset about this Miss Stone,” he says, walking over to his freezer. “Your time will come, and I bought you a box of red popsicles as a consolation prize today. I used to work as an ice cream man, long ago. Back then, there were no refrigerators…”

I can’t pretend to be gracious, so I leave his office mid-spiel and rush to the elevator.

“Wait, Taryn.” James grabs my elbow from behind. “Wait.”

“Can you hold off on gloating for at least an hour, please?”

“I wasn’t about to gloat,” he says, but there’s a gleam in his eyes. “I just want you to know that this promotion won’t change anything between us.”

“There’s never been ‘anything’ between us.”

“Exactly.” He smirks. “You’ll keep working hard, so will I, and I hope you won’t take me being your new boss personally.”

“As long as you don’t go on a power trip.”

“I would never.”

The doors glide open, and I step inside.

He doesn’t join me, though.

“I’m going to stay up here and look into how I want my new office furnished,” he says. “Since you mentioned needing an hour to mope, I’d like a coffee with two sugars and a splash of caramel when you’re finished.”

“You have a personal assistant for that.”

“I’ve just decided to make you my backup.”

I glare at him. “This better be one of your stupid little games…”

“Don’t worry, I’m not knocking you down a pay grade. I’m increasing your pay by thirty percent.”

“I’d rather keep my same job at the same rate.”

“That’d be silly, Miss Stone,” he says. “You’ll get to spend more time under me this way. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

The doors shut before I can jump off and strangle him.