#Ring Padfolio
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Samsonite Xenon Business 3 Ring Padfolio
A padfolio with a full zip closure and extra space for business organization. 1" three-ring binder. Multi-pocket organizer includes a slash pocket for extra documents, zippered pocket for storing small accessories, business card holders and a pen loop. Interior slash pocket with tricot lining and hook and loop closure, ideal for storing up to a 10" tablet. Includes 8.5" x 11" paper pad. Complies with CPSIA, Prop 65. 2" W x 13.5" H x 10" L
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Chapter 3 -
Cantata
Arabella is the executive assistant for Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff. 10 years into her career, it looks like the tide is changing, and she's beginning to question her relationship with him. Is it something more, or nothing but an idea lingering in her head?
F/M, Fluff, Boss/Employee Relationship, Romance, Pining, Love, Slow Burn
Third chapter below the cut or click here for AO3
Click here for the previous chapter on Tumblr, and click here for a list of all chapters
(Total: 12095 words thus far)
I waved down a taxi, and hopped in “Knightsbridge Station, please,” I nodded. The little bit of walking to my flat was easier to remember this way. I’m fully aware it's a bit silly to have my flat in London, but my office in Brackley. The truth is, I spend very little time in Brackley since I’m part of the traveling team. When I went to London though, it was hard to ignore my affection for Chelsea. I couldn’t resist, and it operates much more as a home base when I'm flying into Heathrow. On a race week, that one Sunday night and one Monday morning I can wake up and see a lovely garden just out my window is priceless. Then, by Tuesday, I have people staying in my flat for AirBnB. A cleaner comes in Saturday night, and then Sunday night, I’m back home. On a non-race week, by Tuesday, I’m in Brackley, where I keep the house. I leave Friday night and go back to Chelsea for the weekend. Then I wake up Monday morning, and shit, it’s race week again.
The house is 4 bedrooms and made out of beautiful masonry, but I can’t truly appreciate it. This house means nothing to me. I have never decorated it, or given it any love beyond the basics to maintain it. What am I supposed to do with 3 extra bedrooms? I’ve turned one into a home office, but I always go in, so what’s the point? The other two just linger. I clean them every Tuesday night of non-raceweeks. I don’t want the dust to build up. When my family comes to the U.K., which they never do, perhaps they’ll use it as a guest room.
As I arrived at my flat, I was much more excited than I should be for such a short stay. I walked in and unlocked my bedroom door. I found my closet which mostly only hosted racewear. I found my team polo and my slacks. I then began thinking about packing a dress for meeting with Jeffrey tonight and just staying longer at the event. I would have to change and do my hair and make up in the hotel bathroom…or take Toto up on his offer that I pretended not to hear. I would rather not pay for the taxi 3 times in one night. I packed my messenger bag with a dress that had thin fabric so as to not be bulky, and put on my high heels, prepared for the little bit of pain I might suffer standing for slightly too long.
My phone began to ring, and I looked and saw it was Toto. I quickly threw my bag onto the bed, and picked up.
“Toto,” I answered.
“Yes, Arabella. Is the speech in my padfolio?” He asked. I could hear the rustling of papers on the other end.
“Should be, didn’t you read it over in the car?” I asked.
“I did, I did. I can’t find it anywhere now though,” He sighed.
“Probably got lost in the shuffle. Let me check to see if I have a backup copy,” I spoke, taking my own padfolio out of my messenger bag. “Ah, there we go. I’m about to head back up to the hotel. Will be back there by 4pm, if that’s alright.”
“4…4…Yes, alright. Thank you, Arabella,” I could hear him beaming through the phone.
“It’s my job,” I answered.
“Ah, well…I’ll speak with you later when you arrive,” and with that he hung up.
I admired my view for a few moments, and quickly scarffed down my favorite lunch, before running down to the road to hail a taxi. I arrived at 4 on the dot, and watched as Toto walked out of the elevator. “Here you are,” I smiled handing it to him.
“We match,” he smiled, pointing to his own polo and back at mine.
“Not to break your heart, but we all do,” I said, vaguely gesturing to the hotel lobby which was coated with Mercedes wear. Except Lewis who always stood out with his bold fashion choices. I was a bit jealous of his bravery, but then again if I were a 7 time WDC champion, I would be quite brave too.
“It was the thought,” He shrugged, glancing over the speech. I took a deep breath, feeling the dress’s fabric in my bag.
“Sorry, but would you mind if I took you up on your offer? I need to change after the event. I wouldn’t head up until 8, but…you know,” I mumbled.
“So, you did hear me earlier?” He laughed.
“Barely…but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. All my clothing was at home.”
“You know there are extras flying all over this hotel right now,” He smiled.
“Yes, but why borrow when I could just run home?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Money? Taxis? Time? All of the above.”
“Conversation over. I declare it,” I ordered. “So that’s a yes, though.”
“Of course it's a yes,” He smirked.
“Thank you. You have two hours before you give that speech. Don’t read it over too many times, or you might get the words jumbled. I have to go meet with the driver’s assistants to make sure testing is planned out correctly. I’ll meet you in the ballroom at 5:30, but I’ll be down there at 5 if you want to stop in earlier,” I explained, already taking steps back from him. He waved me away kindly, and I went off looking for the reserved meeting room.
Walking through the hallways of the hotel, I eventually stumbled upon the room, and walked in. Already waiting was Angela and Nikola, Lewis and Valtteri’s assistants respectively. “How are we doing?” Angela asked as soon as I walked in. Angela is a strikingly pleasant woman, and just as I micromanage Toto, she micromanages Lewis. That is, however, to a much larger degree on her end. I swear, if Lewis breathes, it’s because Angela told him to. Her graying blonde hair defined her appearance, and also seemed to automatically imply that she kicks ass. His entire team runs right under Angela.
On the other hand, Nikola was much more lackadaisical. I had noticed two things about him. First, that much like me, he came with many preconceptions about his perception. Many people right off the bat assume him to be aggressive and overserious due to his Serbian heritage but instead he overcompensated and could at times be a pushover. The second thing being that he hates Formula 1. Nikola had for a long time been a personal assistant for actresses and actors. In fact, I knew him from my days at United Agents. He much preferred the world of Oscars, BAFTAs, and Emmys over watching 60 laps with a headset on. In fact, he skips 90% of the races, and instead go eats dinner in a new city.
“I’m doing good, Angela,” I smiled, sitting down. I took my padfolio out of my messenger bag and opened it up to my schedule. “Okay, testing.”
“London Heathrow at 8am right,” Nikola began. I nodded, and thus we were off to the races discussing every small thing and ever little detai. A single mistake could mean Lewis missed an important part of his daily routine or that Valtteri missed a training session. Testing established an important precedent. Showcasing that we’re going to dominate the tracks this season is an important first step to actually doing so.
“Time to head off,” I explained, standing up. “See you all soon.”
They all waved a kind goodbye, and I stepped out to the ballroom. I took the elevator up and walked in to see the huge room cleared of tables and chairs. Staff was running around setting up item after item. It was almost magical to watch an entire Formula 1 car be reassembled in a room for display. Each piece perfectly slotted in. Of course, just for an investors meeting we wouldn’t use any of the tech. With the cost cap being implemented this year, unnecessary movements also created unnecessary risks with no money to spare.
“Where’s the race suit?” I asked a passing staff member in Mercedes wear.
“Oh, um…” They began, checking their clipboard as they flipped through their pages. “Coming off the truck now.”
“You sure?” I double checked.
“Yeah, yeah. Oh, look, there it comes,” They pointed towards the ballroom door.
“Ah, perfect. Thank you,” I answered rushing over to the suit on mannequin being carried over by a team of just two people.
“I know we said we’d put that on the stage, but I think it’d be awkward. Can we place it next to the car?” I offered.
“Uh…yeah, but it could get damaged,” One answered.
“More than a red wine stain?” I asked. He shook his head. “Let’s go for it then.”
Following right in behind them was Toto, and he gave me a big smile.
“You think it would look awkward on the stage, right?” I asked.
“Oh, totally,” He answered. “The space looks nice.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I checked my watch. “Least we can do with all the money they give us. Uh…let’s see. Doors open in 15, go ahead and step into the little wings of the stage for me. Don’t care which, we’ll find you either way. I’m going to go over to the kitchen right quick and make sure that everything’s okay.”
He gestured for me to scurry off and I obliged, heading over to the kitchen and peeking my head in. Yes, of course they were ready. I immediately stepped up the stairs that led to the wings of the stage and found Toto standing in the stage left wing. He waved me over and I speed walked over.
“The clicker. Where’s the clicker for the keynote?” He asked.
“Fuck, they didn’t leave one back here?” I answered.
“I suppose not. They thought you had it.”
“Me? Christ, everyone loves to pin it on me,” I took a deep breath. I quickly snapped my fingers in recognition of a good thought. “Let me run up to your room. I always leave an extra in your bag.”
He smiled, and it quickly turned into a look of confusion. “In my bag?”
“Oh, yeah. When I ordered it for you two years ago, you never noticed this secret little panel. I keep extras of everything small enough that has a tendency to go missing. Clickers, RFIDs, batteries…”
“What? Where?” He asked shocked.
“Telling you would defeat the purpose considering you would immediately take them out since you would be sure they would be better somewhere else,” I replied. “Anyway, I’ll be back.” His expression as I turned my back was best described as a hilarious combination of impressed, shocked, and slightly disappointed that I knew him this well. I ran off, heading upstairs to the hotel room.
There I found, of course, the room was incredibly clean. Toto was never the type to leave a place messy, and everything always found it's perfect spot. Of course, his bag was conveniently located in the closet next to his coat, since the two went hand in hand. Right inside the bag, on the left hand side of the interior side pocket was a tiny zipper I had removed the tag off of to prevent him from easily feeling it out and of course, inside was a USB and bluetooth presentation clicker.
I quickly turned around to leave when I suddenly saw something out the corner of my eye on the edge of the TV stand. It doesn’t count as snooping if I gave it to him right? I instantly recognized it even at the distance I was. A pen. It wasn’t just any pen. No, it was the pen I gave Toto after his 5 years at Mercedes. I was surprised he still had it. It was a nice heavy silver, and had a rollerball tip. It had been engraved with his name and had the date of the 5 year anniversary.
“You want a pen? A fucking pen?” I chuckled to myself looking it over. I resisted the urge to look at what he had written down and scurried out of the room moving quickly returned to the ballroom. Toto awaited anxiously as I set it up with the tech staff before returning to Toto with the clicker. He gave me a soft smile, and patiently held it. I headed to the ballroom floor and found my favorite member of the team, Bono.
“You wanna tell me why Toto called me earlier about the hotel?” He asked without greeting me. To be fair, a greeting wasn’t really necessary. Of all the team members, Bono and I were the ones with one of the closest relationships. He became a race engineer the same year I began working at Mercedes. Two years later, when Toto became team principal and I joined his team, Bono was one of the first people to congratulate me. Since then, in the quiet moments, we’re the first to find each other.
“Remember Monaco 2016?” I answered. I watched as he tried to recall. “When the hotel refused to let me into my room because they didn’t believe I worked for Mercedes?”
“Oh God. Oh wait, again?” He stumbled over his words.
“Unbelievable isn’t it?”
“Unbelievable, yeah. If they actually watched anything they’d see you right behind Toto with a headset on.”
“Too busy watching Toto,” I chuckled.
“So did he have another moment?” Bono asked. Back in Monaco 2016, Toto had forced the staff members to walk me to my room, reclean the entire room, and then, even though the room hadn’t been used, made them upgrade my room.
“Yes, but much more quietly, and somehow, more intimidating.”
“Toto can be intimidating?” Bono asked. I raised my eyebrow at him. “Kidding.”
“I was about to say…”
“We best quit our gabbing,” Bono nudged me, and gesturing up to the stage where Toto sat down in a seat across from the UBS representative. As he did, I turned around and saw the room was filled with suits rather than Mercedes paraphernalia.
“Oh shit, I hadn’t even noticed the doors were open,” I sighed. Bono looked around and faked a jump.
“They all look like slenderman out there,” He laughed.
“Slenderman, you know what slenderman is?”
“I know, I’m old. But I know things.”
“Oh, no, we really do need to shut up,” I quickly mumbled as the UBS representative got up and headed to the microphone.
“Wait, why did you have the hotel call me, couldn’t you have just called?” He asked.
“They never would’ve believed me that it was actually you. They couldn’t even notice my name on the booking,” I whispered.
“Oh, right. Fuck. Shut up,” He whispered to himself. I chuckled as they approached the microphone. The UBS representative introduced Toto and Toto stepped to the microphone with the clicker. As he clicked on the first slide, he found my fave in the crowd and gave me a delicate wink. I smiled back.
“Thank you for the invitation. UBS has maintained an excellent working relationship with Mercedes AMG for 8 years,” He began. “Today, we present the investors with a unique opportunity to hear from us directly regarding the more fun part of our relationship: Racing. During the night, you can find engineers mingling about ready to discuss key aspects of the car, and answer your every question about vehicle performance. But before we enjoy the rest of our night, I want to begin by discussing the car and changes coming for the 2021 season. We especially want to discuss our plan to remain well within the new cost cap.”
As Toto detailed out every element of our car that we could discuss without risking leaks, I couldn’t help but fail to listen. It wasn’t boring. I found this enjoyable. Rather, I noticed the way Toto smiled, cracked jokes that weren’t written on the speech notes, and how he didn’t even have to look at the slides to know what they said. I watched how good of a speaker he was, and how he connected so well with everyone. Even while addressing a bunch of investors, he was also addressing the team. I was so focused on Toto, I failed to notice the way Lewis and Valterri had came onto the stage just for a brief conversation about the upcoming season. When I finally did, they were already walking off. I’ve really got to get this out my system.
As Toto finished, and the UBS representative had a conversation with him, I tried to think of other things. The hors d'oeuvres I had helped to plan, the drink I would order from the open bar, and the tartare I would order from Angler. Oh, right, I do have a date. Maybe that would help me get this out of my system.
As soon as the presentation was over, I ran over to the open bar. On an empty stomach, it was sure to help my rising anxiety. “A Vesper, please,” I asked the bartender. I watched as the drink was stirred and handed to me. I could see Toto head over to the car to prepare for questions and interactions from the various investors. He waved me over, and I took a deep breath as I stepped towards him.
“This is my executive assistant, Arabella Lazaar,” He introduced me to the crowd of investors. I put my hand up for a cursory wave, and took a relatively large sip of my drink.
“Yeah, what do you need?” I asked him kindly. He handed me the presentation clicker, gently placing it into my hand.
“I thought you’d want to hide it back in my bag,” He smiled. “What’s that?”
“A Vesper,” I answered, trying to casually sip it rather than down it.
“Oh…” He shivered.
“Yeah, I know. No one likes my drink,” I shrugged, taking another sip.
“Also, this gentleman,” Toto suddenly spoke to the group and gestured to a gray haired man in the middle of the group. “He’s looking for an executive assistant. I don’t know if you know someone.”
“Uh…no one who doesn’t have a job,” I giggled. “But the wonderful people at Souters have plenty recent graduates who need options. You can also mention if you’re looking for specific spoken languages and they’ll let you know what available.”
“Thank you,” He answered. “But I’m looking for someone more experienced.”
“Oh, well-” I began, nearly scoffing as I spoke.
“Thanks, Arabella,” Toto smiled gently placing his arm around my shoulder and turning me around. “Before you say anything, yes, I know. ”
“More experienced? I doubt he’s even high up in the company,” I answered.
“Thats what I meant I know. He’s not, he’s brand new. But you know how people are,” He finally took his arm from around me. I took a deep sigh. “Nevertheless, I had to stop you because right next to him is the president of Asset Managment. If you run into him without her though, you’re welcome to tell him exactly what you’d like to say.”
“Fine, Toto,” I sighed again. He chuckled at my behavior.
“Besides, Bono was looking for you. He’s by the stage,” He said.
“Oh, thanks,” I smiled, heading off. I finished my drink and handed it to a server collecting dishes, and grabbed a tiny little sandwich on the way. Damn, I picked good.
“Oh, look, there’s the disappearing act,” Bono laughed as I stepped towards him.
“Sorry, needed a drink,” I shrugged.
“Well, where is it?”
I gestured to my body in general, and Bono laughed again. He was surrounded by the engineering team. We all had a wonderful conversation and soon enough it was almost 8:00. I said my goodbyes and let Toto know I was leaving. When I re-entered the hotel room, I found the bag and slipped the presentation clicker into the secret pocket. I opened the door to the connecting room, which was directly next to TV stand where the note stared me in the face.
It wasn’t any of my business, but I wanted to look. I could just barely see the writing through the paper with the light against it. I quickly went into the connecting room to prevent myself from satiating my curiosity. I took a brief shower and avoided getting my hair wet, or I dared to face the wrath of curls that refuse to dry. I slipped on my little black dress and looked in the mirror. I wasn’t an especially thin woman. I enjoyed the way dresses like this could hug my delicate curves. I took some oil from my bag and slicked my hair back into a neat ponytail. I then applied my makeup. Just a small amount. If I were in the paddock, it would be no different. Those tight rooms can get very hot, and I refuse to sweat off any of it. I applied my eyelashes and looked in the mirror at myself. Great job, and only 5 minutes early. I took the hotel elevator down to the floor of the restaurant, being sure I had grabbed everything out of the room. As I approached Angler, I could see Jeffrey.
He looked just like his picture. A solid 6 feet tall, bringing me in my heels to 2 inches shorter than him, and short salt and pepper hair that was thinning just a little bit on top. He looked exactly how you would imagine a lawyer would look, with just the slightest bit of stubble coming in.
“Arabella?” He asked as I approached. I could hear he had a thick Manchester accent. “You look gorgeous.”
“Ah, thank you,” I said, gently brushing my dress in the nervous manner women tend to do when complimented by their date.
“Oh, where are you from?” He asked.
“The Netherlands. You’re from Manchester, yes?”
“You must be able to hear it,” He laughed. He had a slightly high pitched laugh that seemed to ring through the room. “Well, let’s get our table.”
He approached the desk, and they guided us to our table, sat shockingly close to the front of the restaurant. We could see out into the hotel, and I watched as various Mercedes staff wandered about. Being closer to Brackley than usual meant that much of the staff who wouldn’t even be expected to attend, could and did.
“So, how are you tonight?” He asked.
“I’m quite good,” I nodded.
“How was the UBS event? Anything interesting?”
“Oh, well, I think it was quite nice. I hope at least. I helped to plan it. So, let me know if anyone complains,” I joked. He laughed and got more comfortable in his seat. We continued to chat about small little things for a moment until we ordered our food. He took the break as an opportunity to ask me about my job.
“So, do tell me, what’s it like working in F1?”
“How you would expect,” I shrugged. “Lots of traveling. Drama. Drive to Survive is quite fun to have around.”
“I don’t really know what I expect, if I’m honest. I know only a little bit about F1. I’m much more of a football guy.”
“Oh, I just assumed since you knew Lewis,” I answered.
“I know enough. Team principals, drivers, a little bit of the drama. Outside of that though,” He shrugged. The plates came to the table as did my glass of wine. I began to snack on the tartare as he spoke. “So as you said, traveling quite a lot. Nice hotels, the high life, all that?”
“We fly private when we’re outside of Europe, but other than that, commercial. There’s really no point. If the drivers want to waste their money on flying private to a place that has cheap flights, they’re welcome to. But the hotels are always great. They’re not included in the cost cap so I doubt that’ll change.”
“The cost cap, now that I’ve heard about. Mercedes feeling the squeeze?” He asked.
“We are cutting our budget into a third of what it used to be. So…yes,” I laughed. “It could be much worse though.”
“So, you must work for Toto Wolff?”
“Huh?” I questioned, nearly spitting out my food. “How’d you know that?”
“Judging solely by the fact he’s walking over here,” Jeffrey shrugged. I whipped my head around and watched as the 6’ 5” man powerwalked over to the table with a look of determination. As soon as he saw my face, it quickly switched to a smile with a wave.
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, putting my head into my hands.
“Arabella, I thought that was you,” He smiled approaching the table. “Oh, sorry for interrupting. Toto Wolff.”
He stuck his hand out at Jeffrey, and I watched as Jeffrey reached his hand out to shake it.
“Jeffrey Martens,” He answered, shaking his hand.
“What’s up, Toto?” I asked, looking up at him as they released their grip.
“Did you leave anything in your room? I know you talked about going back to your place, but I wanted to make sure if you left anything I grabbed it for the flight tomorrow, but since you’re here, I can just hand it to you.”
“You could’ve just texted,” I groaned.
“I was going to and then I saw you. Is that a yes?”
“No. It's a no. I didn’t leave anything,” I tried to smile at him.
“Alright. Sorry for interrupting again. Is this the same guy you brought to the Christmas party last year?” He asked.
“Nope.” If I didn’t know any better I would think he was purposefully sabotaging my date.
“Apologies. I should probably go now. See you in the morning, Arabella,” He patted my back. “Bye, Jeffrey.”
Jeffrey looked at me with a hefty smirk. “Never thought I’d meet an F1 Team Principal,” He laughed.
“I’m going to kill him for that move. So you might’ve just heard his last words,” I sighed. Jeffrey laughed even harder. I smirked back at him. We continued our conversation, discussing Jeffrey’s line of work, trying to pretend like Toto hadn’t even stopped by. As dinner ended, and he paid the check, he began walking me out of the hotel.
“This was very fun,” Jeffrey smiled.
“It was, yes,” I answered.
“You’re a really interesting woman. An F1 Team Principal’s assistant, a bit of a hard ass, and totally hilarious,” He smiled. A bit? I strive to be the absolute worst. So, that’s offensive.
“Thank you. You’re…interesting too,” I lied. He was certainly at best a curiosity. His life was quite boring. Dad was a lawyer, so he became one too. Now he works at a bank.
“Oh thank you. I hate to end the night here,” He spoke quietly. “Would you like to come to my place?”
“Absolutely.”
Time to get this out my system.
Tags: @daddyslittlevillain
#fanfic#toto wolff#f1 2023#toto wolff x oc#oc of color#toto wolff fanfiction#toto wolff fluff#toto wolff fanfic#formula 1 rpf#f1 fandom#f1 fic#f1 fanfic
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NWT Monos Metro Folio Kit - Ivory (Vegan Leather).
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27, 3 and 4 (for the ask thing)
27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?
I hate whenever someone is eating food loudly. It’s sort of alright if it’s me, but if it’s someone else then I just hate it with a passion.
And this is a weird one, but I actually love the sound of ringing ears. I don’t know why, I just do. It’s fun and relaxing for me.
3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.
(I think this is the line. I mostly went with sentences, because that was easier to understand than lines.)
‘”I don’t have time to deal with this right now, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” Ellen says, pulling a folder out of her padfolio.’ - from Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston
...honestly? This is just me, just without the folder thing.
4: What do you think about most?
Uhhhhhhh.........Dream? That’s probably just the hyper fixation talking, though. But he comes into my thoughts whenever I’m listening to music, which is a lot, so I’d say I think about him the most.
Other than that, reading and writing. Just...reading and writing.
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Life Changes Part 2 || Paul Bissonnette
Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all.
Authors Note: Part 2 of my Biz rewrite. Goodbye Boston...hello ? (well you know if you’ve already read the original part three but if not I won’t spoil it.)
Requested: [ ] yes [x] no Warnings: language, infidelity Word Count: 2070
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“Change the changeable, accept the unchangeable, and remove yourself from the unacceptable.”
With our sponsorship meeting scheduled for eleven, I was up with my alarm at precisely eight am. After pulling myself out of bed, I quickly threw on sweats and a sweatshirt to head down to the lobby for breakfast. I really didn’t expect to see any of the guys until it was time to head across town to the sponsor’s office. After my travel yesterday and night out, it was relaxing to just curl up in a chair with a muffin and some orange juice to watch the news on the tv. Slowly I pulled myself from the lingering remnants of sleep and shook off the desire to crawl back into bed.
Despite being a lawyer, I hated dressing in suits and the fact that they weren’t required for day to day in law school had been a godsend. Today though it was a necessity, so after applying a light coat of natural makeup and pulling my hair into a messy bun, I slipped into a pair of dress slacks and a light floral blouse. Checking the clock, I made note that I needed to leave in about fifteen minutes so after making sure I had all of the materials I’d prepared for the meeting, I slipped my suit jacket and winter coat on before quickly slipping my feet into heels. Though I hated them, sadly they were almost a necessity and expected when it came to business.
Balancing the padfolio full of material and my purse in my arms, I quickly moved to the elevator, praying that I wouldn’t fall over or trip in the heels. Half the group was in the lobby when I arrived this time, laughing and talking about what had happened after I’d left the night before. We exchanged ‘good mornings’ and once everyone was there a few minutes later we hailed a cab to the office building of the new potential sponsor.
Upon our arrival, we were given a quick tour before being escorted up to the conference room for the meeting. The first hour of meetings went by quickly and we were close to wrapping things up to the point that the lawyer for the podcast would have to just look them over and that would be it. A phone call with the VP we were meeting with delayed matters and so given the break I excused myself to the bathroom.
On my way back to the conference room I could hear Whit and Biz talking with someone, their voices carrying down the hall. The moment I heard the third voice I froze, stepping back into the wall before peeking around the corner. Hearing my ex’s voice made my skin crawl and I honestly wanted to just disappear back into the bathroom. I had forgotten he worked for this company and was frequently in the Boston office. I knew I shouldn’t be eavesdropping but when I tried to turn away, my body wouldn’t move. There was also a part of me that was glutton for punishment and needed to know what they were talking about. Either way, I certainly wasn’t going to continue in that direction and have to encounter the man who had broken my heart. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough for that.
“Yeah, yeah I’m a huge fan of the podcast, you guys are great.”
Hearing those words leave his mouth disgusted me, but also made me want to laugh out loud because he had no idea who they were. I was the fan and he had only listened because he’d been in the car with me. It was just the kind of thing I’d expect from him though, always trying to make himself fit in even if it required lying.
Distracted by my thoughts about his many unattractive qualities, I’d missed a fourth male approaching the group but my ears certainly caught the mention of the word ‘wife.’
“Oh yeah, she’s great. Still can’t believe I’m finally married.” Glancing around the corner once more I saw my ex clap the unknown man on the back before turning back to Whit and Biz. “Got married last week after three years of being together. Guess it was about time huh?”
As his words processed in my brain I felt like I wanted to hurl. He was married and had been with another woman the entire time he’d been with you? It took everything in me to push the tears back for the moment knowing I needed to get back to the meeting and that arriving with smudged makeup would probably not look very professional. Glancing down the hallway I remembered that the office was basically a square and that I could get back to the conference room by going the other way.
The entire rest of the meeting was a blur. Though I tried to keep my mind focused, I couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that kept pushing itself toward the front of my mind. Whits and Biz never returned but it wasn’t a big deal at this point anyway. Gathering up the final version of the sponsorship contract, I finished shaking hands with the company’s executives and then quickly made my way to the emergency stairs, flying down all fifteen floors before bursting through the lobby and out to the side of the building where I finally let the tears flood forward.
I’d been back outside for maybe fifteen minutes before my phone started ringing in my purse. Ignoring it first once and then twice, I tried to pull myself together to no avail. When I finally wrapped my shaking fingers around it and pulled it out of my purse there were texts wondering where I’d disappeared to because I wasn’t in the conference room when the guys had returned.
Still struggling to breathe I simply texted back that I was outside, if there were typos, that was just too bad, before leaning back against the wall, again struggling to try and find composure. I didn’t really care what I looked like to anyone passing by, or that my makeup was a mess because none of that compared to the dirty, used feeling that came with finding out I was the other woman. That someone else had been intimate with him when he was intimate with me.
It felt like forever before the familiar voices approached and within moments of hearing them, I was being pulled into a solid chest, strong arms wrapping around my back.
“Shh….” Sounds of comfort filled my ears, as a hand rubbed my back, only pulling away when my breathing had steadied. Glancing up embarrassed, my eyes met the warm brown set belonging to Paul Bissonnette. “Leigh…what happened?”
I knew that I owed them an explanation but even thinking about saying the words made me wobble on my heels.
“Later…can…can we get out of here?” I found myself pleading, voice moist and cracking trying to get any sounds to come out at all. Confused, concerned, and completely unaware of how to handle this, the guys simply just nodded after a moment, calling an uber to take us back to the hotel. When we got there they let me head back to my room but declared that they were going to bring lunch back.
A knock on my hotel door sounded their arrival and I quickly finished wiping my smudged makeup off my face before opening the door and letting them in. Now changed back into sweats I felt more like myself but changing my clothes couldn’t change the fact that my entire life felt like a lie now. The smell of pizza filled the air as the four men made themselves comfortable on the chairs around the table and the unoccupied bed beside my own.
No one said a word at first, instead shoving pizza into their mouths. I was hungry but my mind refused to let me eat right now.
“I’m sorry…” I whispered, blinking back another round of tears. Grinnell, the youngest of the group, was, of course, the first to open his mouth.
“What the hell happened back there? When we stepped out of the room the sponsorship negotiations were going fine.”
A strangled chuckle escaped my throat at his words and I sighed softly.
“Me crying…has absolutely nothing to do with the sponsorship. The meeting was fine, the lawyer just needs to look the final version of the contract over.” That statement caused even more confused looks as they all wracked their brains trying to figure out what could possibly have upset you so much. Sinking into the mattress of the hotel bed as far as I could, I pulled my knees to my chest. I really just wanted to be left alone but I was fairly certain these guys wouldn’t leave my room until they had answers.
“That guy you were talking to in the hallway…” I trailed off waiting for acknowledgment from Whits and Biz. “That…He’s the ex.” Swallowing hard, I waited in hopes that they would put the pieces together so that I didn’t have to spell it out.
“Motherfucker.” The curse that spilled from Whits lips clearly signaled that at least he had gotten the point and when he stood up and started pacing I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth after murmuring a soft ‘yeah.’
Silence followed and when I looked up again Biz was red, stewing in anger having put it all together in his head as well. RA and Grinnell just looked confused and I sent a pleading look to Ryan to explain it to them.
“The fucker that dumped her because he ‘found someone else’ just two weeks ago comes up to us today declaring that he’s a big fan and during the conversation, one of his coworkers comes to congratulate him on the wedding. That asshole has been seeing his now wife for three years prior to them getting married last week. Shit Leigh. He’s a fucking asshole and moron.”
Hearing that he was an idiot and that I deserved better helped in a way but it didn’t take away the ache knowing that I’d been the other woman for eight months and that he’d dumped me either because he thought he’d get caught or his real girlfriend was pushing for marriage and he finally felt guilty. The knowledge that every time he had a business trip or couldn’t come see me was because he was likely with his actual girlfriend made my skin crawl and suddenly I was crying uncontrollably again.
Seeing me cry made Biz jump to his feet, still fuming.
“I’m gonna go down there and kick his ass.” Gasping, I quickly climbed off the bed to stand in front of him, my hand falling to his forearm as it flexed, his hand clenching into a fist.
“No…please just let it be…all of you. I…I don’t want him to know I know. Please, please promise you won’t go back there.” Biz’s arm twitched under my touch as he dropped the fist and I heard him sigh as he pulled me into a hug.
“Alright. I’ll let it be. But if you change your mind let me know.” Murmuring a thank you, I attempted to force a smile onto my face.
“Good. Now if all of you could get out I’d appreciate it. I’d like to be alone for a bit.”
In turn, each hugged me, insisting that I text them if I needed anything, before leaving me alone in the hotel room. As the door clicked shut I crawled back into bed, tugging the covers over myself so that I could cry myself to sleep.
Around 8 that night, a knock had come at my door before disappearing, quickly followed by a text from Biz that he’d left me a pint of ice cream and to please not let it melt all over the hallway floor.
Other than that small gesture in which I didn’t even see Biz, I kept to myself in a state of mourning, not seeing any of the boys before flying back out of Boston.
I wasn’t close to accepting what had happened or forgiving my jerk of an ex anytime in this lifetime, but thankfully I could at least remove myself from the city which broke my heart in two all over again, tearing open the freshly healed scars.
Sponsorship meeting outfit:
No social media updates for this chapter.
#paul bissonnette#paul bissonnette imagine#Arizona coyotes#arizona coyotes imagine#former player#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#014.1
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