Date: Thu, 7 Feb 2008 19:56:38 -0500 From: The Washingtonian Subject: The Washingtonian, Part 5 On Monday I arrived early to the office to make sure to beat my boss. It may sound paranoid but I always feel guilty taking time off from work-especially for bad reason. Due to my absence the previous Friday, I was afraid there was going to be negative repercussions. I was contemplating getting coffee for him and leaving it on his desk, but then decided against it for fear that he'd think I was kissing his ass and feared he'd know I'd done something wrong. When I booted up my iMac, the iMail chimed as expected with a bunch of emails from Friday, however after reading through them I was relieved not to see anything reprimanding me from Tom Harris or my immediate boss. I dove into my work and didn't realize I'd been chugging away for over an hour until my iMail chimed again. My stomach dropped when I saw that the sender was Tom Harris. I paused for a minute. There was no subject or anything to gage what the email was about, or perhaps even what its tone was. After a couple moments of thinking-and possibly not breathing-I opened it. Phillip, Please come see me when you get this. Tom Harris Principle The Harris Group THarris@theharrisgroup.com My palms go sweaty, my tie seemed to have tightened around my neck and my stomach sank lower. I had no idea what to think other than the fact that Tom Harris was telling me personally to see him. From talk around the office I knew that most associates never personally had one on one time with him, let alone interns! I got up the nerve to get out of my chair, and head toward my impending fate-Tom Harris's office. "Phillip," I heard from my boss's office as I walked passed. I stopped, and backtracked a couple steps, poking my head in. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he inquired. "Are you okay, you look a little flushed?" "I just got an email from Tom Harris telling me to come see him," I replied. "Yeah, he came asking about you on Friday." I swallowed hard when he said that. "Asking about what?" I inquired nervously. "Just general questions: how you are progressing, what you were working on." "Oh." I said flatly, not trying to sound too relieved. "Well, I don't want to keep the boss waiting. Come see me when you're done." I walked towards Mr. Harris's office, my heart pounding in my chest. I stopped at the bathroom checking myself in the mirror to make sure that I looked fine, mainly that my tie wasn't crooked-there's nothing I hate more. I was also kicking myself for wearing my Gucci suit. It was my favorite, but in the sea of conservative Washington attire, its tapered "skinny" styling made me stick out like a soar thumb. I collected myself and then exited the men's room, turning the corner and heading toward the rear corner of the floor. Mr. Harris's assistant was seated at her desk outside his office. When I approached she was on the phone, but smiled politely and wrapped up her conversation. "May I help you?" she asked smiling more after she'd hung up the phone. "Mr. Harris sent me an email to come see him," "I'm sorry, is it Phillip or Andrew. I still haven't quire gotten your names down." "Don't worry about it, I'm sure you have your plate full as it is. It's Phillip," I said completely sympathetic. After all, I couldn't remember her name either. I never had any dealings with Mr. Harris, and the only time I ever had any contact with one of the executive assistants was with the main receptionist, Kelly, whom was now my main resource in the office besides my immediate boss, and a decent friend. "Okay, let me check to see if he's busy. One moment," she said getting up knocking on his door and entering his office. She came out a second later with the same vibrant smile stating that I could go right in. Part of me wondered if she got the job mainly because of her smile. "Phillip, have a seat," Mr. Harris said from behind his desk gesturing to one of the chairs. "Did you have a good weekend?" "I did, thank you." "I got Hunter's voicemail when I came into the office on Friday and I wanted to make sure everything was okay." "Oh yes, everything is fine. Thank you for asking though." "Arthur isn't over working you, is he?" "No, not at all. I mean, I've been busy with work, but it's not that I can't handle it. I made the mistake of telling Hunter that I missed being home by the beach, and he mistook that for being homesick and tired of work." I replied, and immediately became afraid it might have come across too hastily, and at the same time trying to cover my tracks and keep up with what I remembered from what Hunter had said in the voicemail. "I'm originally from Connecticut myself, and I remember my first summer away from the beach as a bit of an adjustment, but I'm glad to hear to everything is going well." "Oh yes." "You're giving a presentation tomorrow, correct?" "Yes, that is correct." "Which account are you working on?" "The presentation is for Apple." "Well, I look forward to seeing it," he said smiling. "Now, I'm nervous," I stated frankly with a slight laugh. He laughed in response. "Oh don't worry, you'll do great. I'd love to chat longer, but I have a call coming in," he said looking down at his phone, "tell Hunter I say hello. We keep canceling on each other." "Will do," I replied with a smile, standing up from the chair. I left the office feeling extremely relieved. Not only did I get face time with Tom Harris, but on top of it, he was very friendly and actually seemed interested in my personal well being. The walk back to my office was a lot easier, and in a way I almost felt a little bounce in my step. I'm sure I had a big smile on my face. Hunter was definitely going to get and earful. My boss wasn't in his office when I returned so I went back to my office, and immediately began drafting an email to send to Hunter. Hey asshole, I got an email from Tom Harris this morning saying to "come see him." I almost shit my pants. He was seeing how my weekend was and checking up on me to make sure I was doing okay. I'm going to KILL YOU! P.S. He say's hi. Phillip Beauchamp The Harris Group PBeauchamp@theharrisgroup.com After I sent the email, I checked to see if my boss had returned to his office. I sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh. "Anything going on you want to tell me about?" he asked turning from his computer to face me. Where I thought he might be angry, his tone was more like he wanted to hear about gossip. "I'll let you know when I find out myself," I replied. "I got an email from Tom on Friday morning saying you wouldn't be in. That was a little odd seeing as how I didn't even think he knew your name." "Yeah, I didn't either. I guess he does now though." "Apparently. May I ask how he knew you weren't going to be coming in?" he asked. The image of Hunter naked in bed flashed through my head causing me to smile broadly. "I think I'd rather not say at the moment." "Fine then, if you're not going to let me in on the details then you're not going to lollygag on my couch. Get back to work. Now that Tom knows who you are, he's got big expectations which means you've really got to wow him now." "Yeah, I figured as much," I said as I lethargically got up from the couch. I left Arthur's office glad that he and I were back to the easy, joking relationship we had at the beginning of the summer before he was overloaded with work-thus taking some of his aggression out on me. It was turning out to be a good day. When I returned to my office, there was a new email in my inbox. Dear Phillip, I'd like to mention that that was a very professional email. Come over here for lunch and give me all the details! Anything relating to Tom Harris can be written off as a business expense. I'm only free for about 45 minutes at 1:15, so I hope that works for you. My office is in 1900 K Street. Take the elevator to the 11th floor. See you then! Hunter Blume Bowman, Stein, Franklin & Blume Hunter.Blume@bsfb.com After reading I checked my calendar, and after not seeing anything posted replied that I'd see him at 1 o'clock sharp and then hunkered back down with my work. A couple of very focused hours later, I was brought back from the world of Apple, Inc. by one of the fellow interns popping in to see if I wanted to join them and one of their bosses for lunch at Chipotle. Seeing the time, I thanked him for the invitation but declined. I checked my personal email, and then got up planning on stopping by the bathroom before I headed the eight or so blocks to Hunter's office. It was hot out and I felt a little too damp for my liking once I entered the air-conditioned lobby of his building. I signed in at the front desk and then proceeded into the elevator and to the 11th floor. Upon exiting I came to a small foyer in front of me. To the right of it was a pair of glass doors with the Bowman, Stein, Franklin & Blume logo etched into them. Once I'd entered the office, the receptionist greeted me with a smile. A gorgeous, exotic looking woman met me in the lobby shortly after the receptionist had called back once I'd stated my business. "Phillip, I'm glad to put a face to your voice," the woman said extending her hand to greet me. "I'm Hunter's assistant, Roxanne." "Nice to meet you," I replied shaking her hand. "If you'd follow me, I'll take you back to his office. Unfortunately he's still in the conference room in a meeting but he should be out very shortly." "I don't mind waiting," I said politely as I followed her back down a hallway. We quickly reached the end, and turned right, heading past a smaller office, and then reaching a rather spacious one. Roxanne stopped, and directed me to enter. I was immediately enveloped by the view of 19th Street and part of K Street from the floor to ceiling windows. "Have a seat, and please make yourself comfortable. Hunter should be done any minute. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?" she asked with the same polite smile. I was a little parched from the walk over in the 93-degree weather (and that didn't take into account the humidity or heat index) wearing a dark suit, but fearing coming across as high maintenance, I declined. I walked up to the windows and looked down at the busy street below. Everyone was out getting lunch or running errands. After a minute of watching, I slowly began looking around his office. His desk was closer to the windows with another smaller wooden desk against the right wall. To the left, closer to the door was a minimalist leather couch and coffee table, and two chairs in front of his desk. Both his diplomas were discreetly placed on one of the walls, as well as what looked like two Miro lithographs. On his desk, he had a couple of photos, one that appeared to be him and his family, and another that appeared to be him and some friends most likely from college. His desk was fairly organized except for a few folders whose contents were slightly spread across the wood finish. His computer sat closed in the middle, while his briefcase was leaning very casually against the side of the desk. I took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, after contemplating sitting in his high-backed chair and have a quick swivel, but feared someone might walk by and look down upon it, and thus me. I mustn't have been sitting for more than a minute or two, when Hunter walked in. "Well aren't you a sight for soar eyes," he stated leaning down and kissing me on the lips. "You're not so bad yourself," I replied. "I'm glad you could come meet me for lunch" "Normally I'd just pass that off as you trying to be cordial and make my feel better, but after my conversation with my boss today it seems that lunch with you is even a luxury for him." "Please, don't listen to a word Tom Harris says. He's a complete liar!" Hunter said jokingly trying to change the subject, but after seeing this a few times, I knew to store it away for later. "Whatever you say, sailor." He responded to my comment with a quizative look, not sure where this new "pet" name was coming from. "Our food should be here, are you hungry?" "Well, you know I'm anorexic, but feel free too eat if you'd like. Please bear in mind that I'll be judging you the whole time though." "Funny," he commented to me with a sly eye and then pressed the page button on his phone and called his assistant in. She entered a minute later with two plated of steak frites placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch, and asked if she could get me anything to drink. I replied that I was fine, but Hunter asked for a bottle of Pellegrino and two glasses. "So, how was your meeting with Tom Harris?" he said slicing into his steak. "Well, I wouldn't call it a meeting, more of him asking me to stop by his office." "And..." "Nothing, he was just making sure I was fine-he said he was concerned because of your voicemail." "Nothing else?" Hunter asked with a sly smile. "No, he just said to say hello. That was it, seriously." "Interesting..." he trailed off momentarily. "He and I have had a lunch meeting scheduled for the past month but nothing ever seems to work out." "To be honest, the two of you could have had lunch today if you wanted. He was in his office as I was leaving to come here, and that included a 20 minute walk on foot, it would have only been 10 if a company car had picked either of you up." "You walked here?" "Yeah, how else did you think I was going to come?" "ROXANNE!" Hunter again yelled toward his door, Roxanne quickly entering. "Can you please call a car to take Phillip back to his office." "Are you two done?" "Oh no, but please call one and have it waiting, thank you," Hunter ordered. "No, Roxanne. It's not necessary, I insist," I stated to her. "Phillip, it's supposed to be 106 with the heat index this afternoon, I can't have you walking back to work in your suit." "Nonsense Hunter. What's the point of a good suit other then to be seen in it! My grandparents-my grandfather especially-would probably die if I didn't get to parade down Penn Ave in front of the White House and show off what good tailoring actually looks like." "Dior?" "Close, but no. First season Gucci under Frida Giannini." "What, you're not wearing a French suit? Sacrilege!" "Har har, very funny." "To be honest, I prefer you not wearing anything." "Yeah?" I replied with a smirk. "Mhmm, and licking chocolate off your stomach." "That's a new one we haven't tried." "We could tonight..." he trailed off seductively. "Maybe I'll take you up on that offer." "I'm simply a phone call away," he stated with a smile that made me want to melt. We chatted over our food for next forty minutes. Hunter brought up my meeting with Tom Harris a couple more times, not believing me that our conversation had been so brief. After we finished eating, Hunter slid over next to me on the couch. We playfully flirted which led to me kissing his irresistible lips. "Excuse me Hunter," Roxanne said politely interrupting our brief petting session, "but you're 1:15 is in the conference room." "Saved by the bell," I stated with a big smile. "I should be done around seven tonight, I'm picking you up for a quick dinner then I'm fucking your brains out." "Is that a promise?" "I hope!" Hunter said getting up and leaving the room. "Mr. Beauchamp, please feel free to stay as long as you'd like," Roxanne said peeking back into the office. "Please call me Andrew, and thank you, but I need to be getting back to work." "In that case, there is a car waiting for you downstairs," she stated to me with a smile. I went to open my mouth but before I could she cut me off. "We're paying for the car either way, so I'd take if-honestly." Exiting the office, I thanked her for her hospitality and made my way down to the lobby of Hunter's building to meet the waiting Mercedes S-Class which drove me downtown and unfortunately back to work. I got a lot accomplished once I got back to the office, mainly due to the fact that I wanted to get everything finished so that I could see Hunter again. When seven hit and I hadn't heard anything from him, I debated calling to see if he were still on, but decided against it. A half hour later, I decided it was time to leave. He could pick me up from my apartment easier than from work, plus I really wanted to get out of my damn suit. After waiting around for another hour, I got sick of waiting around and popped a bottle of wine and made myself a decent meal. It wasn't until the weekend that I again heard from Hunter. Washingtonian2008@gmail.com Copyright 2008