Fortunately, I’m able to sneak back into my office without having to speak to anyone. Shutting my door behind me, I slump into my chair and lay my forehead on my desk. When my stomach growls, I moan. I’m hungry, and my lunch is in the break room.
I pick up my phone to call Clive when I remember. “Damn it.” I don’t have an assistant. But Graham did tell me to call HR about it, so I do just that.
“HR, this is Cathleen speaking.”
“Cathleen, this is Ben Schilling up on twenty-two.”
“How can I help you, Ben?” The words sound helpful, but her tone says otherwise.
“Graham Morgan told me to give you a call about replacing my assistant, Clive Burgess. He was recently promoted.”
“Mmhmm.”
I wait for her to say more. When the silence gets awkward, I say again, “So, I need an assistant.”
“Well, you see, Mr. Schilling, I’ll need to do some checking on that.”
“What?” I’m a little surprised. “Why?” Every other manager has an assistant. There shouldn’t be a question.
“It’s just how this works. I’ll check with your department manager.”
She’s got to check with Sam? Since when? “But Graham said—”
“It’s how it works, Mr. Schilling. I’ll be in touch.” Then she hangs up.
Surely Sam won’t say no. He’s my friend, after all.
“No?” I can’t believe this. “You’re saying I can’t even get a temporary assistant?” When I got the word from Cathleen in HR that my request was denied, I called Sam directly, but that doesn’t seem to be going any better for me.
“Sorry, dude. With all this shit going on with that consultant broad, no can do.”
Broad? Who says shit like that anymore? Nobody with any sense, that is. That’s a 1950s expression, for crying out loud. And sexist to boot. I’m sort of surprised to hear it come out of Sam’s mouth, honestly.
“Fine.” I sigh heavily. “Thanks anyway.”
“As soon as this shit is over, we’ll get you someone real nice.”
Whatever. “Sure.”
He chuckles like he didn’t just rip the rug out from under me. “You up for a drink tonight?”
“No. I need to get home.” Need isn’t the right word. I want to go home and hang out with Sky. She’ll listen. Hell, I’m fairly certain she’s my only friend now.
“Something wrong with your mangy mutt?”
I ignore his words. She’s neither mangy nor a mutt. She’s beautiful. “No, she’s good. Just have some home stuff to do. Laundry is piling up.” That’s definitely true, but I’ve no intention of doing that tonight.
“Well, get it done so we can go out this week. I need a drink, man. This shit around here is stressing me out.”
“Me too.”
“I bet,” he says with another stupid chuckle. “You need to watch your back.”
“Yeah?” It feels that way, but after speaking to Alison, I wasn’t sure. But if Sam says it, it must be true. My stomach flips.
I might as well agree. “Sure. I’ll watch my back.”
Even though Alison told me the three issues in the green folder, something still feels off. I’ve got nothing to do with any of the issues she mentioned, so could there be more? Maybe I should go get a drink with him so I can hear his thoughts—and the gossip.
But I’m still not in the mood.
Hanging up with Sam, I grab a piece of paper to start my to-do list for this afternoon. I’ve gotten nothing done the last few days with all of this stuff going on. I need to focus, and a list is just the way to do it.
Tapping my pen on the paper, I close my eyes, attempting to concentrate on my task. That is until a knock sounds on my door. I stare at my closed door for a few seconds. When the knock comes again, I have a sense of foreboding. But I can’t ignore it forever. “Come in.”
I watch as the door slowly opens and a long leg steps over my threshold.
“Alison?” I ask, standing.
She moves into the room and shuts the door behind her. “Ben. Can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure.” I motion for her to take the only other chair in my office. It’s all I’ve got room for.
“Thanks.” She reaches for the chair and pulls it out far enough for her to sit. “First of all, I want to set the record straight.”
I nod, choosing to keep my mouth shut for now.
“Nothing in that report is outright accusing you of anything.”
“No? Is it insinuated?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t get into that.”
“Okay.” Frustrating, but I guess I get it. “Sam Ford just told me I needed to watch my back.”
Her mouth is agape, but she quickly shakes her head and says, “I can’t fathom why he’d say something like that.”
I arch my brow. “You can’t?”
“No, I can’t. I haven’t spoken to him, nor have I given anyone any indication what my probe is about. No one but you. I told you things over lunch that I shouldn’t have.”
“I won’t say anything.”
“I know.” Her voice is soft, and her eyes are even softer. Is she realizing I’m not the creep she thinks I am?
“If you know, then why do you think this is happening?”
She shakes her head, “I don’t know, but I aim to find out.” Leaning forward, she speaks softly, like she’s afraid someone will hear her. “I’m going to trust you, Ben.”
“You are?”
“I am. I need to ask you a few things, but it needs to stay in this room.” She points to the ground.
I nod. She trusts me. That’s big.
“What do you know about Sam Ford?”
“Sam?” I say much too loudly. I quickly quiet down. “He’s a good guy.”
“Yeah, but what do you know about him?”
“He went to a Big Ten school. Wisconsin.”
“And?” She’s starting to look a little impatient.
“And he’s divorced. Has a couple of kids.”
“Where did he work before coming to MFH?”
“Uh, let me think.” I lean my head back for a second. When I’ve got it, I look back at her. My God, she’s so damn pretty. “I think he was in Chicago.”
“That’s right.” She crosses one long leg over the other, and I do my best not to stare. “But he was fired.”
“Fired?” I pause. “How do you know—”
“I did some checking.”
“Well, people get fired. Why was he let go?”
“I don’t know. Yet. They wouldn’t say. I’ll keep trying.”
“Wouldn’t HR know?” They’d have to know he was fired from his previous employer and the reason. “Or we could just ask him.”
“No.” She said it so quickly and so resolutely that I didn’t think it was wise to push the point.
“I’m supposed to have a drink with him this week. Maybe I could—”
“No.”
“Why not? I could bring up my last job and ask him about his.”