Page 48 of Reckless Love

Ava

Jenny passes me another sample of the cologne fragrances the development department put together after our last meeting. The cedar and maple notes in the other versions have been good, but nothing is quite hitting.

I suck in a deep lungful of the new scent, and my knees go weak. They added citrus. I didn’t even suggest it, and the scent is so, so close to Stephen that I want to bathe in it.

“Oh, my god,” I moan. “This one.”

Jenny lets out a self-conscious laugh. “It’s tested well with our target demographic.”

“I don’t even care if it’s tested the highest. I need at least one bottle of this.”

“For your husband?” she asks, eyeing me.

Instead of answering, I take another deep lungful. It’s been two weeks since I saw Stephen, and I’m not sure I’ve taken a full breath during any of those days. Some part of me is subconsciously seeking him around every corner, every closed door, every tinted car window that resembles his. To know he’s back in my orbit, that I could crash into him again at any moment is both thrilling and exhausting.

But this smell is making all kinds of things so much better. If I could get myself off at all, I’d surround myself with this scent so I could breathe it in during each wave of my orgasm, just like old times.

Stupid and reckless, but the idea of it positively makes me tremble.

“Are things better at The Nile now for your husband?” I ask to drag myself back to the here and now.

Jenny perks up, clearly surprised that I raised it. But I’ve been subtly nagging Raul—sending him articles on how happy employees increase production and whatever else I can find that confirms that his inkling to be a total dick to everyone who works for him is actually wrong. So, so wrong.

“I’m not sure it’s going to get better anytime soon, if I’m honest.” Jenny holds out her hand to take the sample back, and I reluctantly place it in her open palm.

“Why’s that?” I ask.

Jenny eyes me, and she’s clearly weighing something. But she takes so long that I decide to settle another thing that’s been on my mind.

“When you talk to people who work for me, they’re happy, right?” I ask. Raul’s comment has been niggling at me even as I try to push him to change.

“You’re a fair boss,” Jenny agrees. “Some employers do a climate survey, if you want to get the worker sentiment. Of course,” she continues carefully, “you’d have to be prepared for whatever it says.”

“You mean people might not be happy.”

“You can never make everyone happy,” she says. “That’s just the reality. But I think putting out the survey gives people a chance to be heard. Then if you can implement some of the suggestions, that goes a long way too.”

Truthfully, HR did suggest a survey like that about a year ago, but when I mentioned it to Raul, he said it was a waste of company money because you could never make everyone happy. But I think Jenny’s take might be better than his. No, I can’t make everyone happy, but I could satisfy a few more or at least make some people’s lives better.

“I’ll look into that,” I say. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading about what makes a happy, productive workplace, and I want that for here.”

“You’ve got good bones at Reckless. The wages you pay are a great start,” Jenny says. “A few tweaks would probably make even more people satisfied.”

“So why do you think things are going to get worse at The Nile? Raul’s been doing the same reading as me.” Or I hope he has. He hasn’t said anything about the articles and videos I’ve been sending him.

“Has he?” Jenny lets out a little laugh of disbelief. “I suspect the message he’s taken from all of it is very different.”

“What’s that mean?”

Jenny sighs and purses her lips, clearly torn. “The workers are talking about mobilizing a strike.”

“A strike? But they just unionized.”

“According to my husband, the union coming in has only made Raul angry and bitter. It’s not a good situation all around. Raul has told the union spokespeople that he’ll bring in scab workers if they strike. My husband says it’s going to get nasty,” Jenny says.

“Raul knows they’re going to strike?” All of this is news to me, and I’ve even been asking him how things have been at work. I haven’t been indifferent. I’ve been trying. My solution to bettering my relationship with Raul and improving my feelings about my marriage had been to try harder. If my son and my company were the collateral damage, I couldn’t just give up.

“He really doesn’t talk to you?”