Jagged Salvation: A Dark Contemporary Romance Novel (Salvation Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  I reached into my bag, grabbed my phone and iPad, and hurried after him. Just down the hall was another office. This one was also lined in glass, but it was huge. It held a giant table that ran almost the full length of the room and was studded with chairs around the edges.

  Randall pulled me up beside him. “Let’s get started.” He pushed into the room. Then shoved me in front of him.

  I felt a bit like a show pony on a leash, but at least there weren’t too many people there yet. I nodded at them and took one of the first chairs I came across. When I sat down, two men on the other side of the table smiled at me.

  “Ms. Griffin?” the Asian man asked. He had perfect teeth and gorgeous hair that I was trying not to be jealous of.

  I nodded. “Yes, call me Zale.”

  The Asian man smiled wider, nodded. “That’s unique. I’m glad you’re not another Brittany. We already have four of them. I’m Tokko Yu. This is Brett Jenkins.” He tipped his head to the side.

  Brett was a typical All-American guy. Blue eyes, blonde hair, square chin. From his physique, he probably played football. I just hoped he had a bit more happening in the brains department than others I’d met of his type.

  I nodded at both of them. “Nice to meet you. What departments are you in?”

  “Sports,” Brett said, his smile ready and engaging. “A bit cliché, but it’s what I know and I’m good at it.”

  Tokko nodded. “He really is. I’m in restaurants. And the office foodie. If you need any suggestions, just ask.”

  Brett snorted. “As long as you want to eat in Midtown. He’s a bit crap when it comes to the rest of the boroughs.”

  I smiled. “I might take you up on that.”

  More people filed in and the chance for small talk was closed. Marcella Grace strode in. The click of her heels was a sharp staccato that sounded almost like gunshots. A tall, regal woman, she had her white hair trimmed into a sleek pixie that showed off her high cheekbones and made her brilliant green eyes pop. Dressed to kill in a black sheath dress and Louboutin heels, she was luxury personified.

  “Good morning. First order of business, we finally caught our white whale.” She turned to me. “Zale Griffin is here to oversee the luxury brand accounts. We stole her from Oglin + Booker.” A round of polite applause went through the room.

  I smiled as I looked around the room and started memorizing faces. There was a diverse mix of people here. A solid blend of races, cultures, knowledge bases, and experience. I was ridiculously happy to be joining them. So much better than the old-boys club over at O+B.

  I dipped my chin in acknowledgement and waited for Marcella to move to the next order of business. The top ad agency in the world had a lot more than my welcoming party to worry about. And I truly hoped they didn’t actually have a party for me.

  Marcella took her seat at the end of the table. “Now, we have a full schedule today, so let’s dig in.” She double tapped her iPad screen. Swiped through a few windows. “Brittany H., what’s the status of the new hotel ad?”

  I sank back into my chair and listened to the talk I’d grown up with. The acronyms, the shorthand. It was comforting and invigorating. And it allowed me to see how each of the different departments handled their briefs and accounts.

  **

  My right leg was aching and stiff by the time the meeting was over. Everyone was pouring out of the room as if it were on fire. And by the farewell Marcella gave everyone, I could only assume she was said fire.

  She blew out a breath, smiled at me. “Not bad for your first day. Walk with me.” She turned and started walking without waiting for me.

  I scooped up my stuff and hurried after her. The exercise felt good on my leg, but I would never be able to catch her. So I followed as quickly as I could without sacrificing stability.

  She finally caught on to the fact that I wasn’t beside her after a moment. She looked at me over her shoulder. “Zale?”

  My smile was tight, but I continued to follow her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had legs as long as a giraffe’s.”

  She chuckled. “Sorry. My husband is six-nine, and he’s never heard the word ‘stroll.’” She slowed her pace.

  I caught up to her and we moved down the hall in a more leisurely fashion. Even though I already knew the answer from my research, I asked the question. “Former basketball player, right?”

  Marcella nodded. “Yes. Knicks. A million years ago.” We turned into the last office at the end of the hall. Actual wood for walls, her door was completely glass. “Come on in.”

  Following her into the space, I was almost blinded by the light streaming in through the east windows. “Wow.”

  She chuckled and rushed to her desk. “Sunrise yoga. Great for the mind and body, hell on the eyes.” A low hum sounded and the light dimmed into a pleasant haze.

  I smiled when I could see again. “You look great, so I can only assume it’s working for you.”

  She kicked off her shoes and sat at her desk. “That would be the long hours here and the slavish devotion I have for protein smoothies and spin classes.” She laced her fingers and leaned forward. “How is your first day starting out?”

  I sat in one of the plush chairs that faced the desk, crossed my legs. “Really well. Randall met me and got me to my office.”

  Marcella smiled and nodded. “He’s an eager one, but he’s irreplaceable. Just so you know, all of the interior glass walls are equipped with shades. You can determine your settings later. But if you need full privacy, that is an option for you. We do request that you keep them clear for the most part. It helps with the community atmosphere we have going.”

  I nodded. “And I love that atmosphere. I can’t wait to dig in and become part of it.”

  Marcella dipped her chin. “I think you’re going to fit in great here. This week, you’re going to be doing policy and procedure review so you’re familiar with the company and expectations. We sent the information to you once you signed your contract. Have you had a chance to review it?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I doubt it will take me a week, but I’ll definitely go through it all again, if needed.”

  “Great. Once you make it through that, we’ll start handing you the accounts that got transferred when Elton left.” Her brow furrowed. “I shouldn’t be admitting this, but he left things in quite a mess. If you have any issues, come see me right away.”

  “Elton Martins?” I struggled to contain my shock.

  Marcella nodded. “Yes.”

  I caught all the questions I wanted to ask behind my teeth. It wasn’t my business. My only business was in making sure those accounts stayed with us and that the clients were happy with the services we provided.

  Trying to tell myself that one of the most recognized names in our industry had let things slide due to personal issues on his part was going to be a harder sell. But I’d done better with less. I was more than capable of handling anything they threw at me.

  “We have a managing directors meeting every Thursday. So make sure you can be there this week. In the future, you’re allowed to miss, but only if absolutely necessary for client meetings.” She held my gaze.

  I nodded. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  Her body seemed to relax at my answer. “Good. We haven’t received any of your office items yet. Did you get them shipped?”

  I shook my head. “I got rid of almost everything from O+B. I’ll start fresh with the new space. I wanted to get a feel for it before I just dumped all of my stuff into it.”

  The regal woman laughed. “I think I like you, Ms. Griffin.” A low ding sounded. She looked down at her iPad. “I’ve got a meeting in thirty minutes that I need to prepare for, so I’ll leave you to settle in.”

  I got up and moved towards the door. “Thank you again, Ms. Grace. I’m looking forward to working with you and the team you’ve built here.”

  She smiled. “Call me Marcie and I’m incredibly glad we got you, Zale.”

 
I opened the door, walked through, and closed it behind me.

  Randall was less than six inches from my face. “How did it go?”

  “You’re a little close, Randall.” I put my hand up to keep him from getting any closer.

  Pink raced across his cheeks. “Sorry. Sorry.” He backed up a couple steps.

  I let out a relieved breath. “It went well. She’s got a meeting and I’m going to go to my office. Try to get settled in.” I gave him a nod and walked past him.

  He walked with me. Because…why wouldn’t he?

  “I saw your Chanel campaign.”

  I looked over and up at him. Now that I had some room to breathe through the first day jitters, I noticed that he was actually quite tall. My own five-nine was dainty compared to his lofty heights. “What did you think?”

  “It was fantastic! So elegant and original. Sexy without being trashy.” His blue eyes were bright.

  My lips quirked up. “Good. That’s definitely what I was going for.”

  His laugh felt like a cheese grater over my nerves. “You’re funny. So funny.” He bumped his shoulder into mine.

  I eased away from him, smiled. “Thank you. I’m doing standup on the weekends.”

  His mouth fell open in shock. “Where? I’ll come watch!”

  Well, crap. Now I felt bad. “I was just kidding, Randall.”

  He got his expression under control. His laugh was tight and strained. “Right. I knew that.” Stopping in front of my office, he stood there, looking down at me. “Have a good day, Zale.” Without saying anything else, he moved around me and walked away without looking back.

  Blowing out a breath, I moved into my new space. The west view was full of the New York City skyline. Each building was a different height with unique architecture. Like a giant game of Tetris, everything fit into the huge visual puzzle. It was both breathtaking and comforting.

  A soft knock sounded.

  I turned. “Hello.”

  A young woman stood there. Blonde hair swept up into a high, sleek ponytail, she was polished and elegant. And had the look of office bitch permanently stamped on her face. “Hi. I’m Brittany Paulette. You can call me Letty.” She walked in without invitation, her hips swaying. She held her hand out like I was some kind of peasant and she was the lady of the manor.

  I didn’t offer my hand. “Hi, Letty. I’m Zale Griffin.” I folded my hands together at my waist. “What can I do for you?”

  The slightest twitch of her lips told me all I needed to know. “This was supposed to be my job. Watch your back, bitch. Because I will take it from you.”

  I smiled. “You’re certainly welcome to try. But if you work here and didn’t get the job, then I would assume it's because you either aren’t qualified for it, you don’t have the necessary skills to do it well, or management just doesn’t like your attitude. So make sure you don’t make an enemy of me, Letty.” I turned back to my view and dismissed her from my mind.

  Poor little rich girl who had everything handed to her and had never actually tried to apply herself to anything. I rolled my eyes. Her type made me want to pitch them off the highest roof I could find. Wealth was a privilege, not a right.

  I heard her finally leave with a huff and the low swish of her dress against her obviously dry skin. If she wanted to play mean girl, I could play. And win. I’d grown up in the poshest boarding schools and wealthiest circles. I knew those games.

  “Don’t let her get to you. She’s on her way out, anyway,” a new voice said from behind me.

  I turned again. A pretty woman stood there. Her riotous curls were a nimbus of reds, golds, and coppers around her face. Her clear blue eyes and button nose reminded me of Merida from Disney’s Brave.

  “I’ve met too many like her to be bothered by her.” I stepped forward, held out a hand. “I’m Zale Griffin.”

  The woman smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Thank the gods. I hate stuffy women. I’m Margo Hellton.” She stepped forward and clasped my hand. Her shake was firm and short. “I’m working with Tokko in restaurants.”

  I eased a hip back onto the edge of my desk. My right leg was aching again. “That’s great. Are you a self-proclaimed foodie like he is?”

  Margo chuckled. “Yeah, but on the other end of the spectrum. I’m a dive bar snob.”

  Laughing, I nodded. “We need to do lunch sometime.”

  Her eyes brightened. “I was actually coming to ask you that. Are you free?”

  I looked at my watch. “I was going to catch some Thai with my best friend. Would you be willing to join us?”

  Her curls dipped and waved. “Yes. That would be great. I’ll get my stuff and meet you at the doors.” She hurried away.

  I laughed and grabbed my phone. Shooting a text to Mak, I shoved everything in my bag and closed my empty office behind me. The short walk through the office made my leg relax a little.

  Across the office, Margo was waiting at the front doors. Her heels had been replaced with a pair of walking shoes. A bulky clutch was in her hand with the loop around her wrist.

  Moving out of the line of traffic, I changed my own shoes. “Thank the gods I’m not the only one.”

  She snickered as she held my bag. “Girl, I’m not trying to break my neck or my back navigating foot traffic in New York City just so my butt can look good. Besides, my lady loves my ass exactly as it is.”

  I laughed as I straightened. “That’s the spirit. I haven’t looked at your ass, but I’ll take her word for it.”

  Margo hooted a laugh as we walked out into the hallway towards the elevators.

  Shit. Elevators. I hadn’t thought of them. Shit!

  My palms went damp as we waited for the car to arrive at our floor. Margo continued to chat beside me. But I couldn’t really hear her over the thudding of my pulse.

  The ding of the elevator felt like a death knell. I jolted back, almost stumbled into a stranger.

  “Zale?” Margo said softly. Her concern was easy to see.

  I sucked in a deep breath. “Do you know if there are any freight elevators I could use?” I turned so I didn’t have to see the elevator car filling with hungry workers.

  Margo looked over her shoulder and moved out of the way. “I don’t know. I’ll go check.” She patted my arm and rushed off in the opposite direction.

  Get yourself under control, Z. You don’t have time to have a meltdown, I mentally chastised myself. But the blood curdling idea of standing in that small steel box wouldn’t leave me alone.

  It pressed in on me from every angle, stole my breath and my sanity. My chest was too tight and my vision went gray at the edges. Looking for a place to calm down, I moved to the stairwell door. It was as far away as I could get without actually leaving the floor.

  “Zale.”

  My name was a whisper under the thunder of my pulse, but I heard it. I looked up and around. Margo was standing there, sympathy on her face. “I got access to a different elevator.” She grabbed my hand and tugged me into motion.

  Without really thinking about where we were going, I followed after her. Anything to get away from the crowded elevators. I could already feel the press of bodies against my own, their warm breath filling the space.

  Horrors danced in the deepest recesses of my mind. Faint screams rose up from within the locked box inside me. I couldn’t breathe. I could barely feel my body.

  Margo shoved me through a set of doors, my shoulder hitting one of the sides. But it was fine. Hell, it was good. There hadn’t been pain that day. Just…nothing.

  On shaky legs, I pushed into the corner. Sinking down into a squatting position, I focused on pushing the breath out through my mouth in a slow stream. Blow out the candles.

  When I ran out of air, I sucked in a deep breath through my nose. Sniff the flowers.

  Over and over, I repeated the same actions. Forcing everything else from my mind, I centered myself. When I could finally feel the buzzing in my toes, I pushed up to stand. Pins and needles invaded my leg
s, but I would take it.

  “Finally. I was getting ready to call the fire department for a 5150,” a hard male voice said.

  “Isak!” Margo barked. I turned in time to see her slap a big man on the shoulder. “Don’t be an asshat.”

  The man probably should have been gracing a magazine cover—or starring in luxury porn. He was built for sin. Dark complexion, dark hair, piercing caramel eyes. The energy pumping off of him made my stomach dip.

  I lifted my chin, met his hard gaze. “I didn’t think robots needed oxygen.”

  Margo stared at me with huge eyes for a second. Then she burst into laughter. It rang through the small space and washed away the heaviness of his presence. “Oh, gods. We’re going to be best friends. You can’t shake me now.”

  Isak glared down at her. “Ice queens don’t have friends.”

  She elbowed him in the gut.

  “We do. Just not with idiots. Margo is definitely not an idiot.” My knees were shaking now that I could see clearly enough to notice how small the elevator car was. It looked vaguely familiar.

  Margo beamed up into Isak’s face. A glint sparkled in her eyes. She started to move towards me, her chin up in the air.

  “Please don’t.” I cowered back, my shoulder blades digging holes into the wall of the car. Would this descent never end? Gods, this car was so freaking slow.

  She stopped mid-motion and nodded. Then she backed up into Isak and shoved him behind her in the car.

  He snarled low in his chest. It was barely a rumble of sound, but I felt it all the way through me. This man was not to be trifled with.

  “Zale, if you’re claustrophobic, why did you take a job in a high-rise?” Margo asked as she guarded against Isak’s moves to get around her.

  I shrugged. “Just because I suffer from it, doesn’t mean it gets to control my life.”

  Isak snorted. “Seems like it does to me.”

  “A blind robot? You couldn’t even hack it as a service animal. You might need to return to the factory before your warranty runs out,” I snapped at him. He was an asshole. A giant, sexy as sin asshole.