Riding the Corporate Ladder (Indigo) Read Free

ago and already had quite a few admirers. He played football all the way through college and still had a chiseled physique some fifteen years later. He had a light complexion with short, curly hair and a baby face. The firm’s partners, Thomas Reagor, Myles Crawford, and Miles Epstein, were all stodgy old fossils. David Markham added a much needed coolness to the building.
    “Did you talk to him?” Karen asked.
    “No,” Deena said. “I thought he was going to speak at the press conference, but he just smiled at me and nodded.”
    “I wish he would smile at me sometime.”
    “Have you ever even met him?” Deena asked. There were thousands of employees at the firm. It was very possible to spend your whole career there without speaking to most of them.
    “I’ve only seen him twice since I started,” Karen said. “One time the elevator closed right when I was finna get on it with him. The other time he was on his way in when I was on my way out. I held the door for him, though. I smelled his cologne. It was nice.”
    The secretary looked up to the ceiling, lost in her memories, and Deena grinned, too. “Thanks for getting the reports together,” she said. “You should have seen the look on Mr. Fogarty’s face when I showed him those files.”
    “It’s all right,” Karen said. “I didn’t have anything to do all Friday, Saturday and Sunday anyways…”
    “Well, get used to it,” Deena teased. “My first two years of law school, I don’t think I went out one time.”
    “I don’t go out much anyway,” Karen said, and then she looked away uncomfortably. “Hey, you know Bruce is getting that Blood Money account.”
    Deena sat up with a start. “What?”
    Karen nodded. “That’s the word. I mean, that’s what I heard…”
    Blood Money was an up and coming record label that specialized in gangsta rap, hip hop, and cutting-edge R&B music. They achieved notable success recently with artists such as Rilla, Tee Toker, and Miss Nasty topping the Hot 100 charts, but Blood Money Records attracted more negative attention than positive: Two members of their crew were facing charges for weapons and racketeering. A few others still had pending drug cases from before their days as entertainers. Their top-selling artist, Rilla, had been arrested for murder just three weeks ago.
    “Why would they give it to Bruce?” Deena asked. She’d been banking on that account to beef up her portfolio and maybe put her in the running for a senior attorney position in the next year or so.
    Karen shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he has more experience?”
    That was true, but Deena was never one to let a little thing like experience get in the way of her dreams. “Has Shelton made an announcement yet?” she asked.
    Karen shook her head. “No, but any minute now.”
    Deena shot to her feet and headed for the door. “I’m getting that account,” she said on her way out.
    Karen didn’t say anything. It was a long shot, but she knew better than to doubt her boss. Miss Newman had proved her wrong so many times already.
    * * *
     
    There were over a dozen directors in the building. The one Deena wanted to meet with was on the same floor, but it still took her a while to reach his corner office. Everyone who knew about the press conference wanted to stop and tell her how well she did, oblivious to her rush. Deena placated them as best she could.
    “Thanks, honey.”
    “Aww, that’s sweet.”
    “ ’Preciate it, Bob. Thanks…”
    When she got to Shelton Murray’s foyer, Deena didn’t stop to talk to his receptionist. She walked right in, as if expected, and closed the door behind herself. Shelton sat behind his desk wearing a black suit with a gray shirt and no tie. He was forty-two years old and as handsome as George Clooney with his salt and pepper hair. Mr. Murray was clean shaven and surprisingly fit, given his sedimentary lifestyle.
    Rather than take a seat across from him, Deena stood in front of his desk with a