“You couldn’t have,” Cynthia said. “They weren’t on his desk when I delivered his memos minutes ago. Maybe you’re imagining that you did it.”
This bitch. “You’re right, Cynthia. Maybe I’m just imagining that I delivered his short list and coffee.”
“Well, I’m not paying you to play make believe, Miss Lauren,” Preston slowly looked me up and down, turning me on against my will. “I would like the shortlist on my desk within the next half hour, and I would like my suits to stop being late every week. No other assistant has had these delivery issues as much as you.” He left the room.
Cynthia headed to my door right after him, coughing. “Three months max.”
I quickly rewrote the short list and made sure I placed it in Preston’s hand before leaving his office. I wasn’t completely sure, but I thought I felt him staring at my ass as I walked out.
I overheard Cynthia laughing as I returned to my office, and an idea suddenly hit me. Cynthia and the stylist were best friends. I’d seen them laughing over lunch on several occasions, and they always glared at me whenever I walked by.
No wonder his suits are always late. They're trying to sabotage me.
Livid, I pulled up my job description and called George to make sure I was interpreting the “chief of staff” clause correctly. When he assured me that I was, I took the elevator to the lobby and waited for her to arrive with this week's wardrobe.
“Good evening, Miss Lauren.” She smiled at me as she rolled the rack inside at exactly seven o’clock. “I was telling the driver that it’s been great to finally have a consistent EA around here. I was also telling him how it’s unfortunate all the designers and tailors are so late these days, you know? Must be a red-carpet season.”
“Save it,” I said. “Save all of your bullshit for someone who will believe it.”
“What?” Her eyes went wide.
“Don’t play dumb.” I rested my hand on the rack. “Do you know that as Mr. Parker’s executive assistant, that I have the power to hire and fire his auxiliary staff without asking for his input? That you are a part of that auxiliary staff?”
“No.” Her face went white. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, now you know. Nonetheless, since I'm not petty like you, and I'm not allowed to fire your best friend upstairs, I'm going to do you a favor.” I glared at her. “I'm going to give you another chance. From here on out, you’re going to deliver his suits in the morning, not the evening. You're going to allow me to look them over and approve them, so we can see him in something other than Tom Ford all the time, since you strike me as the type of person who probably has a payoff with a clerk at that store.”
She looked away from me, confirming my theory.
“I thought so. As of today, you're going to be the best stylist and runner he's ever had because you're not going to make his executive assistant, who is levels above you, look bad anymore. Are we clear?”
She nodded.
“I need you to say it.”
“I won't make you look bad anymore.”
“Thank you.” I reorganized the suits on the racks, moving the ones I liked best to the front. “I heard about the employee betting pool, so how much longer do you think I’ll last?”
She looked down and shook her head. “I'd rather not say.”
“Why not?” I asked. “If you're bold enough to attempt to sabotage me, you can at least tell me how long you think I’ll last here.”
“One more month. Three months tops.”
Six Months Later
Seven
Preston
Hiring Tara Lauren is officially the worst thing I've ever done.
“Hiring Tara Lauren is officially the best thing you've ever done, Preston.” George passed me a binder. “At least, she was, and I really appreciated her while she lasted.”
“Um hmmm.” I flipped through a report and pretended to read.
I hadn't been able to get my daily work completed up to my standards since Tara started working for me. Everything about her was a distraction, and I'd lost count of how many times I'd envisioned her bent over my desk with her ass up, begging me to fuck her deeper.
The hardest working executive assistant I’d ever hired, she was good at her job, and with each passing day, she became even better. Despite her lack of hotel experience, she’d caught up in no time. As opposed to my other assistants who simply waited for me to tell them what to do, she was always ten steps ahead of me. She studied all the tiers of my hotel brand to the letter, and she could recite the mantras and amenities better than some of the people who’d been working for me for years. She was even changing the culture for my top staff—firing and hiring people who she thought would help me best.
Still, there were three things about her that drove me absolutely insane. One, she had a smart-ass mouth, and unfortunately, the sarcasm that dripped from her seductive lips only made me want her more. Two, she couldn't whisper worth a damn. At least she acted like she couldn't whenever she was muttering about how much she hated me under her breath. How much she thought I was an “asshole.” Three, she had a tendency to refrain from wearing panties under some of her dresses, and I couldn't help but notice every time. On those days, I insisted she come into my office every half hour for small tasks, so I could get a front seat view.
“Her hiring came at a pretty good time, too.” George’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Her performance gives me hope that we’ll be able to really nail someone who’ll last nine months or even a year next time. She really was good.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I looked up at him. “Why are you saying that she ‘was’ a good hire? As in past tense?”
“Because I just got a call from The Greenwich Firm—you know, the place where most of your previous executive assistants end up going. He asked me if I could give her a good reference before she came in for a final interview today.”
“And what did you say?” I clenched my jaw, livid that she’d gone on a job interview behind my back.
“Well, I told him I’d have to call him back since I was heading up here to meet with you, but I’m pretty certain that it’ll be a great reference. Unless I’m missing something?”
“You are missing something,” I said. “Miss Lauren has a non-compete clause in her contract.” In addition to some other clauses I’ve added …
“So? Your other assistants did, too. It was never a problem when they wanted to leave.”
“Well, it is now, so don’t give her a reference. Ever. If they ask you why you can’t give one, have them call me.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” I said. “I think it’s time that we start implementing all the terms in our employee contracts. We need to set the tone and make sure people aren’t using this as some type of launching pad for another job from now on.”
He shut his folder. “Do you want me to tell her that she’s wasting her time by going on all these interviews, then?”