Excerpt: Somewhere in the Middle

I knew I would be the one to be picked. It didn’t require for me to be spiritual. Logic told me I was the most likely candidate. And my nomination to be the one to work alternate weeks between New York and London played out exactly the way I knew it would.
“Shannon is getting married.” Sam said. He always had my undivided attention. Not because what he was saying was so profound because he had the bushiest eyebrows I’d even seen and they moved up and down when he talked. “She doesn’t need the extra stress.” He was right. Saying the word wedding at the right moment would send Shannon sprinting for the bathroom to vomit. Which makes me wonder if Shannon is cut out for marriage. Love is great and all, but if you can’t handle setbacks and obstacles just planning for the wedding, I’m afraid to think what she’ll do at the first argument.
“Sam, you’ve got children.” Chris noted. Right again. No one in the room would nominate to have Sam absent from the lives of his 3 and 4 year olds children. Besides, Sam was the ultimate doting father. He had personalized invitations made for everyone for his daughter’s first ballet recital. No one wanted family separation on their conscience. Unfortunately, that left only Rebecca and I in the running. I glanced across the room at Rebecca, who was framed by the Manhattan skyline in the window behind her. It seemed like she was miles away from me with the massive conference table between us. She had a smug look on her face.
“I can’t go. I’m in the middle the project with Greyson.” She said. Which would surely earn her a promotion out of the realm of numbers. Rebecca joined the company about two years ago and I’ve been struggling to like her. I don’t know why I don’t like her. She isn’t a horrible person and she was exceptionally good at her job. The problem is she knows she’s good at her job and takes liberties other people didn’t. She knows she was an asset to Bonne Vie Cosmetics. She and I are a lot alike. Career women at the top their games. We are both over 30, although I’m older at 32. I, like her, know that I’m good at my job and that in some situations in the company I’m irreplaceable but I’m not smug about.
We have other differences. Rebecca is a stunning red head, pale and delicate compared to my rich pecan skin and chemically black hair. My true color is a dark brown which makes my hair look dry. The black color, although a hassle to keep coloring, makes it shinier. Rebecca has the body of a runway model and her pencil skirts really do look like a pencil, since she’s a thin as a piece of lead. I, on the other hand, am a curvy size 10. Perfect 10 I think. Me and my personal trainer. One more difference: Rebecca is not the most moral person in the office. I’m not at the top of the morality list. That spot is held by a very young looking receptionist who sees no evil and wears a purity ring. But I’m working to get there.
The room grew quiet as all eyes turned to me. It was my turn to come up with a reason why I couldn’t go. I wasn’t getting married. Seriously. I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a good date. No marriage equals no children and I wasn’t working on a killer project. Sad to say but my lack of life made me the perfect candidate.
“Sorry, Dee.” Chris said, calling me by my nickname. My real name is Dakota Elizabeth Thomas, but how many black people are there named Dakota? My parents tried to be different but instead they sentenced me to spend most of my adult life being addressed as an initial. I had considered calling myself Elizabeth, but couldn’t stomach being called Beth or Lizzy. My little sister did much better: Georgia Bethany Thomas.
“When do I leave?” I asked, ignoring his apology. Sometimes Chris was a little soft to be a manager. Why did he feel the need to apologize? This was my job. I chose to do what I do. And it’s not like the company wasn’t going to compensate me for my troubles and I would make sure my pay would be more than fair.
“Next Monday. HR will make your travel arrangements.” Chris slid a folder over to me. I opened it and read my new list of duties. The London office was in desperate need of a financial overhaul. It was partly the company’s fault that they were such bad shape. The office opened 18 months ago and had been operation without stateside oversight. Now they had spent more than their budget allowed them and I was now up to me to find a way to get them running more efficiently. The meeting adjourned and my co-workers shuffled off back to their respective places. Chris grabbed my arm as I walked out the door. “Are you ok with this?”
“Why would I not be?” I asked.
“This is a lot to take on.” He smelled like coffee. Which reminded me that I hadn’t had any today. This was as good time as any to take a Starbucks break. “You’ll be keeping track of all the things on your desk, taking care of the London office and adjusting to the time change.”
“And I will be paid handsomely for it.” I said. Chris didn’t reply, only shuffled along beside me. We navigated our way back to our offices on the 7th floor where most of the financial division was housed.
“Let me know if it becomes a problem,” he said as I walked into my office. At least he was trying to be nice. That was more than one normally received in the cut throat world of finance.
As soon as I sat down at my desk, I logged into my Outlook calendar. Other than a few meetings for work, there was nothing on my schedule to cancel because of my trip to London. Nothing. Now that I was looking at it, I noticed that there was only one non-work related event on my calendar. One of the other girls in the singles ministry at my church invited me to a social event, Christian professionals. She told me that it was a good way to network and I jumped on the idea. Networking is like toilet paper, you can never have too much of it. Since the social was in two days, I wouldn’t have to cancel it. But I would be spending the bulk of my time trying to figure out how to live in two places at once. No one else could have been able to do this. I’m the perfect candidate.