The Closer (18+) ✓

| 1 | a plan of action

❝We're chasing shadows of a feeling
Out in the middle of it all
Find out we're bigger than our demons
Into the wild❞

Chapter One:
A Plan of Action

"It'll be a quick job, she said. A get-in, get-out operation, she called it. Well fuck you, Deborah. Fuck you and your company."

"That sounds like my policy on one-night stands," Helena's voice giggled from my iPad. I paused, mid-way through unceremoniously dumping my clothes into my suitcase to give her a murderous glare.

"Are you even listening to me?" I snapped at the image of my best friend's rather amused face as she hovered on screen. She was twisting her finger around a stray brown curl, all the while biting down on her lip to keep from laughing.

"Yes, yes. Continue bitching about your marriage to your job and how your boss is screwing you in the least convenient way." Helena waved her hand dismissively at the screen. "Speaking of which, there was this article about sexual positions in Cosmo I think you might be interested in."

"You know what? Fuck you too."

"I know you'd love to," Helena whispered saucily, with an overly seductive wink. I would have laughed if not for the crisis I had landed myself in. Helena's implicit comments on her wild sexcapades with her exceptionally beautiful girlfriend, Jade, were the least of my concerns right now.

"Listen, honey. All I can say is that you need to suck it up and just go do it. It's your job, after all." Helena gave me one of her sweet, soul-enlightening smiles. She had this way of making me calm even when the situation required me to feel the exact opposite; and her smile played one of the biggest roles in doing just that. "Also, I suggest you wear that dress and toss the one in your hand right now."

"Right." I did as she told me and continued talking all the while, occasionally glancing at the bed where the screen sat, propped up against a pillow. "It's just that I never signed up for traveling halfway across the country to pretend to be someone I'm not."

"How long did you say the flight was?"

I scrunched my nose as I answered, "Nearly five hours."

Helena let out a long whistle, smiling immediately afterward. She could be useless sometimes, just there to mock my misery further. "Sounds like a blast. At least you get to travel First Class. Perks of working for a big-shot firm, huh?"

"I got stuck in Economy cause I booked super late."

"Ah-ah!" Helena held a finger up in the air to stop me from speaking. "I'll say it for you." She took a deep breath and then in a lower, more annoyed tone that was the worst impression of me yet... "Fuck you, Deborah."

**

I meet all kinds of people, doing what I do. The marketing world isn't all that easy to navigate around. Pitching ideas to clients can sometimes equate to voluntary suicide, especially when they choose to threaten to sue you and generations of your offspring for all eternity, just for making a mere suggestion (true story). Yet, having had all that experience with over-grown corporate babies, I'd never felt as anxious and wary as I did taking that plane to Washington. It didn't help that I was seated next to an old man with a serious gas problem.

I had a knack for negotiations but it had always been on friendly territories. It would be meeting with clients in closed conference rooms, patiently discussing their options with them and essentially mind-numbing them into accepting the one that would be most profitable for our company, simultaneously meeting their minimal requirements.