Chapter 104

Liz let go of my hand and turned to look at me.

“That came out wrong,” I said quickly. “I appreciate the trouble you went to. But this is really too much for me.”

I had never had an office. My workspace at the hospital had been one of four desks pushed together to form a pod.

I took a deep breath and composed my thoughts.

“I don’t want to be treated any differently at work than anybody else,” I told her.

“I know that,” Liz stated. “And I don’t plan to treat you any differently at work – except maybe when we’re here alone.”

I laughed.

“I’m OK with a little sexual harassment,” I replied. “I’m not OK with getting an office because I’m your boyfriend.”

“You didn’t get an office because you’re my boyfriend,” Liz replied. “That’s why you get to share a bathroom with me but all upper-level management has an office up here. That’s why Jill and Ryan are with us on the trip. She’s going to be in the office next to yours and Ryan’s is at the end of the hall. Susan has an office right across from yours. My manager is going to have the office on the other side of me. My crew leader has an office here. The head of my legal team will have an office here. My liaison with RaveLand will have an office up here. You didn’t even get the second-biggest office. That’s going to whoever I hire to be my manager. Truth is, you got screwed a little on the office because you’re my boyfriend.”

“On the office or in the office?” I asked to buy time to wrap my head around what I was being told. I had expected to have a space a floor below with the rest of the marketing grunts.

“On the office,” Liz said, shaking her head at my joke but not laughing. “We’ll discuss in the office a little later. But your office is actually the second-smallest up here. My crew leader got the smallest because he’s the one that will use it the least, I suspect. You got the second-smallest because I wanted to carve out a private spot for Skye to work ... and I wanted a bigger bathroom.”

She offered a sheepish grin and I couldn’t help but smile at her.

“My success in other areas stems largely from how the public perceives me,” Liz said in a serious tone. “That’s not me talking. That’s what everybody has come to understand.”

“I think talent plays a bigger role,” I replied.

“In the music part, possibly,” Liz countered. “But there are thousands of people that can sing that haven’t been half as successful as I’ve been. As I’ve sat and looked at why I succeeded when others didn’t, I came to realize that RFN has done a pretty good job of ... sanitizing ... my image. That’s now going to be up to you and your team to do. If I didn’t think you were up to the job ... well, I don’t really want to revisit the decision I made six weeks ago but I guess we should. The truth is that if Stephanie had kept her mouth shut ... I would have let you go as my spokesman. I still would have come after you as my boyfriend but I would have minimized your role in my organization even if you kept the same job title.”

“At least until I figured out what was happening,” I said.

“Likely,” Liz said with a grim nod. “But that is a moot point. You’ve proven your value to me as a professional. In fact, you’ve proven your value to about half of Nashville by this point. I think you could land at the top of the PR food chain at any major label if you decided you wanted to strike out on your own. Hell, you could probably open your own PR firm by this point. The past month, while you’ve been recuperating and Susan has been on family leave, I’ve leaned on Rick and Sarah. They’ve done a fantastic job of handling not only their duties but the duties that you and Susan normally handle. For the first time in my career, I can say I’m entirely happy about what’s coming from my ‘PR Machine.’

“I haven’t had to walk back anything that’s been said on my behalf. I haven’t been ambushed by questions I was ill-prepared to answer. I haven’t had to worry that something out there has been said in a way that I would never say it. It’s a huge relief to know there is one thing I really don’t have to concern myself with. Oh, sure, I’ll be up your butt about stuff and I’ll still want to offer my input but ... it comes back to trust. If the rest of this crazy idea works half as well as the marketing department is going to work, my life just got a lot less hectic.”

Liz pulled out the chair from behind what I supposed was my new desk and gestured for me to sit down. It was easily the most comfortable office chair I had ever seen. It was like a little slice of heaven on my ass.

“It vibrates,” Liz said with a wink – and sure enough, with a touch of a button, the chair started to gently massage my lower back. Liz leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “My spokesman is an important part of my corporate structure. This office very likely would have gone to the person in that role even if it wasn’t you. Because it is you ... I get a bigger bathroom.”

“And I get to watch you pee,” I said.

“Gross,” Liz replied, laughing. I could see she really wanted to sit on my lap. That wasn’t possible so I pulled the chair outward slightly and patted a knee. We kissed lightly but any hope for more was ended by Liz’s buzzing phone.

“People are starting to arrive,” she informed me. “We need to head downstairs.”

We got to the lobby just as three people entered the vestibule. They all looked to be in the mid-20s and their work attire suggested they were headed to one of the telemarketing firms. They all wore shorts and T-shirts. The lone woman had tattoos that covered her entire left arm and one of the men had a hole in his ear that had to be two inches across.

“Whoa!” one of the guys said. “It’s Liz Larimer!”

“She owns the building, Doofus,” the young woman said with a sharp elbow.

The last guy had earbuds in and didn’t even look up. He just shuffled along in untied shoes behind the other two.

The next dozen people through the door looked and acted exactly as the first people had. We finally decided that shaking the hands of the close to 200 people that worked in the telemarketing offices was a really bad idea. We retreated back up the elevator, this time with the Johnsons in tow.

“I feel old,” Liz said when we got off outside of the offices.

“I feel a lot smarter than I did a few minutes ago,” Bobbi noted. “That one chick had a see-through shirt with no bra!”

“And nipple piercings,” I added to Dayton.

“He missed those,” Bobbi informed me. “He was too busy following the girl in the micro-miniskirt. Half of her ass was hanging out the bottom.”

“I’m sure he was making certain she posed no threat,” I said, coming to Dayton’s defense even though he had not clued me in on the view.

“If she was carrying a weapon it was up her cooch,” Liz declared, shaking her head.

It doesn’t speak highly of us but we spent a great deal of time busting on the people that we’d seen entering the building – from their fashion sense to their hairstyles and color to their piercings and body art.

It wasn’t as though we had much room to talk. Liz had dyed her hair pink once during her wilder days. Bobbi and Dayton both had tattoos. I tended to dress like a homeless man a lot of the time.

But Liz had changed her hair back to its normal color after a few days. The Johnsons’ tattoos couldn’t be seen when they were wearing shirts. And I had enough sense to dress like a human when I was leaving the house (particularly if I was going to be seen by anybody else).

Our belittling session lasted until the first order of business for the day. The LLE employees weren’t scheduled to arrive until 10 a.m. That left Liz (and it appeared me) some time to visit the tenants she planned to keep.

To that end, we made our way to the second floor and the law offices of Karlsen, Hartwick and Candiotti. The receptionist was in her late 40s, I estimated, and she blinked when Liz entered the waiting area (which was bereft of clients, I noted).

Although it was entirely unnecessary, I thought, Liz introduced herself and then announced that she had an appointment with the attorneys for 9 a.m.

“Please take a seat and somebody will be with you shortly, Miss Larimer,” the receptionist (or paralegal) said. Liz looked at the chairs and decided to pass on the suggestion. They didn’t resemble the soft, plush furnishings in the LLE office. These were hard plastic, scratched and varying in color. My first thought was that an elementary school had closed and the lawyers had stopped by the Dumpster to pick through their leftovers.

We stood for a few minutes. It’s hard to gauge time when nothing is going on, I suppose. Thankfully, Liz had her phone and she checked it periodically. At 9:07 a.m., she’d had enough.

“I have a great many things to do today,” she said. “Waiting is not one of them.”

She produced a card from her jacket pocket and handed it to the woman – who looked as though Liz had just offered a live rattlesnake.

“This is the number of the property manager for this building,” Liz continued. “If somebody here frees up a few minutes of their valuable time, have them contact him. There is information we need to impart. He’s in Nashville at the present so please take the time difference into account.”

I was barely quick enough to push the door open for her before she hustled out.

I snagged an arm and she stopped.

“That was ... a bit rude,” I noted.

“Fuck them,” Liz said. “I had Skye contact all the tenants on this floor last week to let them know I’d like to meet with them. Everybody else said just stop in when I had a minute. This group insisted upon an appointment. So she scheduled for 9 a.m. I don’t do ‘fashionably late, ‘ Travis. I arrive on time and expect others to arrive on time. I don’t care if this firm stays in the building. It makes no difference to me whatsoever. I do care when somebody wastes my time. You can damned well bet my time is far more valuable than theirs.”

I held up a hand in submission.

“OK,” I said. “That’s all new information to me. I was just pointing out that you seemed a little brusque. That’s all. My bad.”

We hadn’t taken two more steps down the hallway when the door we had been standing beside opened and a 30ish woman stepped out.

“We can see you now, Miss Larimer,” she said.

Liz consulted her phone again.

“I only have a couple of minutes left,” Liz replied. “So this will have to be quick. I left a number out front if we don’t get to everything I need to cover with you.”

Liz led us back through the door. Two other women sat in the office. The woman from the hallway sat down and gestured for Liz to take the only other chair left available. Liz decided to stand again.

“As you know, I’m the new owner of this building,” Liz said without preamble. “I scheduled this time to let you know that your lease will be available for renewal at the end of the year and that, despite the amount of upgrades I’ve made to the building, I do not plan to increase your rent for this space next year. I am also finalizing the purchase of the building next door. If you think that will suit your needs better, you can discuss relocation with the property manager. I had some other things I wanted to talk to you about but I have other appointments that are just as important as this one so I’ll have the property manager email you the information. Thank you for your time.”

“We have some question and concerns,” the first woman said.

Liz sighed and turned back to face them.

“Make it quick,” she said.

The woman seemed unhappy that somebody else was in control of the meeting.

“We are a legal firm,” the woman began.

“Telling me things I already know is not making it quick,” Liz cut in. “Get to your questions and concerns, please.”

A second woman shifted in her chair.

“Some of us are uncomfortable with having armed security in the building,” she said.

“That’s a shame,” Liz replied with a shrug. “You have the option of getting used to it or finding a new home for your offices. My company requires the measures so they are staying. Next?”

The woman blinked at the answer. I supposed they were accustomed to negotiating or even dictating terms.

“We handle many immigration cases,” the third woman said. “It’s inconvenient for our clients to have to present photo identification to enter the building. We also represent discrimination complainants and whistleblowers. These people are uncomfortable having their names on any official registry.”

“Meet them outside of here,” Liz said. “You’ve known for almost two months that security was being upgraded. We sent you a detailed list of the changes we were putting into place once the sale was finalized. I have a copy of the certified mail receipt on my phone if you’re suggesting that you were unaware of the new security protocols. You signed for the document in the first week of May. It is now July. That’s plenty of time to find other offices or make alternate arrangements. All visitors must sign in. All visitors must present photo identification. That includes people coming to see you. I’m sorry if you didn’t understand that. Now you do.”