when all is said and done | e.d.

one

harper

"harper brown speaking," i say into the phone that interrupted my daily afternoon thought process of what it would be like to leave my office and never come back.

obviously i've never done it— the company wouldn't exist if i did.

the stress can be overwhelming, though.

"ms. brown," i hear on the other end. i twirl the pencil behind my ear. "i'm calling on behalf of my supervisor. his name is calvin oliver, if that rings a bell?"

a smug smile creeps onto my face. of course it rings a bell. this is the guy that's been emailing me for the past two years, trying to pitch an idea to us.

"of course. to what do i owe this call?"

"he wants me to request a meeting time. calvin would love to talk in depth more about his idea that's he wants to pitch. apparently, it's supposed to be a hit article."

i hold back a sigh.

everyone thinks they have a hit story.

"of course," i force myself to say through gritted teeth, trying to upkeep my happy and joyful tone. "i'll give you my assistant's work number, and we can go from there?"

"that sounds perfect, ms. brown."

i list off the phone number slowly and wait as i hear the faint scribbles of pen on a pad of paper.

"all set?" i ask.

"yes, ma'am."

"alright, have a good day now," i say, and don't wait for a reply before setting the phone back on the desktop receiver.

"ethan!" i call out, leaning back in my chair a little bit to see the door that connects my office to his.

he glances my way quickly, and immediately stands up and opens the door.

"yes?" he asks. by the way his eyes flick over his shoulder and back to his computer every five seconds, it's clear he was busy. i might be working the poor guy too hard.

"you'll probably be receiving an email or phone call from calvin oliver's assistant," i say with a small sigh.

ethan grimaces. "him again? i've had to delete at least a hundred of his emails just over the course of these past three months."

ethan and i go back.

not far back, but far enough to be considered friends.

not good ones, not bad ones... just simple acquaintances.

we met near the middle of college through a mutual friend, and he seemed lost. i had already begun my digital newspaper, and it was doing well, so i offered him a job with me.

i don't know much about him, and he doesn't know much about me. it's always been that way, and it probably always will.

we go to meetings together, and it's always slightly aggravating when they reach to shake his hand first, thinking he's the president of the company.

but no— just my assistant.

he's told me before that he feels completely comfortable in his position, and that he admires what a hard working woman i am. he said it reminds him of his mom.

obviously fresh out of college, it was a struggle to find my place in the world. but i never stopped short of my dreams, and here i am now.

my attention gets turned back onto ethan and his expectant look, sporting a raised eyebrow.

"sorry," i smile as apologetically as i can. "just got lost in my train of thought... but yes. when calvin's assistant reaches out to you, make sure to ask what the pitch is before scheduling the meeting. i'm busy until next year, pretty much."

instead of chuckling like he normally would, he widens his eyes. "you want me to be the first person it goes through?"

"sure, why not," i shrug, leaning back in my office chair. "think you can handle it?"

a small smile appears on his clean shaven face. "yes, if you think you trust me enough."

i smirk, leaning onto my desk on my elbows. "ethan, i've known you for four years. i trust you with this idea pitch. let me know if it's good, and if it is, schedule a meeting."

he nods vigorously, clearly pleased. "of course."

"oh and ethan?" i say, stopping him from turning around.

he looks over his shoulder. "yes?"

"do you have a minute to run to the cafe on michigan avenue?" i ask curiously. "i offered to bring lunch for the meeting i have with mr. bentley today, and totally forgot about it. i would go, but i have some papers to fax down to the second floor and run through some editing errors with melanie. do you have time?"

mr. bentley, aka ceo of windy city online and my boss.

"of course," he responds, but it's clear by his body language that he does not have time.

i start to feel bad, then remember that this is why i have an assistant. to make him do things.

"thank you," i send him a genuine smile. "what would i do without you?"

he shakes his head playfully. "probably would have multiple heart attacks a day from all the overthinking."

i laugh, crumpling up a piece of stray paper on my desk and throwing it in his direction. it bounces off his leg and lands on his shoe.

"great," he mutters sarcastically, but still jokingly. "one more thing for me to pick up."

"go away," i wave him off and he disappears back into his small office, tossing the paper ball into the trash can by the door.

while ethan and i aren't close, he's still one of the people in this building that i can have a non-robotic conversation with. well, him and samantha on the third floor.

i go down there to get my coffees each morning, and we somehow always end up at the machine at the same time. this has caused us to become fast friends.

for the two short years this company has been around, samantha has been here for almost all of it.
mr. bentley hired her because he admired her swift work ethic, and she's been on the marketing team ever since.

but samantha and i don't see each other nearly as often as i do ethan.

after sighing one last time, i catch ethan's eye in the glass door that connects our offices.

he sends me a reassuring thumbs up, something he does regularly when i'm on the verge of a stress breakdown.

i smile weakly, and send him one back.