I blinked hard, trying to clear the haze in my vision. The coffee I’d hoped to cherish during this early morning quiet had been stolen from me by an asshole with gorgeous eyes and a rock-hard body that were spoiled by his shitty attitude.
Somehow the walk from my coffee-and-croissant funeral to the office had refilled my inbox. The work never stopped.
I’d rushed the report to Bill’s office and sat back in my chair less than sixty seconds before Bill breezed past my open door without a sideways glance. Good morning to you too, Bill. Yes, I had a great night. Slept like a log after cleaning up all Valerie’s work she left behind at the gala last night.
Resting my head on my hand, I clicked through the nine hundred RSVPs one by one, since no one had thought to have them all imported into a spreadsheet to begin with.
Why do something efficiently when you can force me to do it at a painstakingly slow pace?
The names blurred together and my eyelids drooped like there were tiny eye-sized sandbags attached to them. Over four hours last night, I’d broken down the last of the flower arrangements and ensured the chair covers were returned. After hour two, I’d given up on the heels, but my feet still throbbed.
Who said event planning wasn’t glamorous?
My head dropped off my hand and my bangs brushed against my spacebar. Slamming the heels of my hand down, I saved myself from a keyboard facial.
“Sleeping on the job, Zara?” The nasally, grinding voice was accompanied by a flood of light.
Lifting my head, I squeezed my fists together.
Valerie stood in my doorway with her oversized purse and latte. She dropped her hand from my light switch.
“No! I haven’t had my morning coffee, Valerie.” I clenched my fists and cursed the giant asshole from this morning. Someone his size should be used to watching out for fleeing villagers lest he smoosh them. I wasn’t tiny by any stretch, I stood up to most men eye-to-eye, which hadn’t won me any flirty-girl-of-the-year awards. Sometimes I thought those genes had been deleted from me entirely at birth.
She examined the purple streak she’d added to her hair a few weeks ago. Was that allowed by the company dress code policy? No, but she did whatever the hell she wanted. Rules like those were only for peons who didn’t coast on daddy’s bank account. She glanced up like she’d remembered I was there, even though she was standing in my office doorway. “My dad needs to see you in his office in five minutes. Something about reports you prepared.”
My stomach plummeted as my indignation soared. I’d triple checked everything. I shot up from my desk, slipped my feet into my heels, wincing as the Band-Aids barely gave me enough padding for the blisters, and grabbed my blazer.
She looked me up and down, lips pursed, but I kept my shoulders straight, not letting myself shrink under her caustic gaze.
“Good morning, Valerie.” Andi walked behind her with a huge smile. She was one of the only friendly faces in the office and made coming into work less hellish every day.
Valerie’s gaze narrowed and she turned, hair flipping in the air, and walked off.
“Really nice use of the company copy machine last Friday,” Andi cupped her hands around her mouth with her coffee cup in her hand, amplifying her voice throughout the office.
I held my blazer in my teeth and grabbed a notepad and pencil off my desk.
“What did Cruella want?” Andi leaned against my doorway in her t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.
“Telling me Bill wanted to see me and making small talk.” My longing for those comfy shoes knew no bounds as I struggled to get my arms into my sleeves and winced, nearly rolling my ankle in my office-approved heels.
“Oh, I didn’t know you spoke bitch. Have you been taking lessons?”
“You’re hilarious. I can have a mean streak when I need to.”
“You mean when you gently lay your pen on top of your notebook? Or maybe when you push back your chair angrily before neatly tucking it back under the conference room table?”
I’d learned to keep my snapping replies to myself. I needed this job. There wasn’t any room for me to fly off the handle when Tyler’s future and my ability to eat hung in the balance.
“I’m not always like this.”
“I’d pay for front row seats to see you snap. It would be a spectacular thing of beauty and the mushroom cloud would blanket the whole city. Where are you off to? Weren’t you working until the ass crack of dawn?”
I peeked out my office door and popped my head back in for a second to cover my yawn. I leaned back out and grimaced. “Yes, and now I’m meeting with Bill.”
Peering into my office, she searched my desk. “Isn’t today your Mocha Cookie Crumble Cappuccino Day? The last day of the month?”
“You remembered that?” Did I talk about Coffee Day that much? Did Andi think I was crazy for making such a big deal about it?
“Hard to miss the way you cradle that thing like you gave birth to it.”
“I’m trying to keep my budget balanced.”
She lifted her cup to her mouth before hesitating and holding it out to me. “Do you want this? You look like you could use it more.”
“No, I’ll get one from the coffeepot after my meeting.”
“Lucky, lucky you. You know where to find me.” She backed away, not glancing behind her once. “My IT cave is quiet and I have candy and gold stars in my drawers.”
I walked down the hallway toward the glass-walled office with the panoramic view of the city. The assistant waved me through to his office door. Bill stood inside, pacing, with an earpiece in, tossing a baseball from hand to hand. He was an inch or so taller than me. His sculpted salt-and-pepper hair went along with his game-show-host suit. If I’d seen him on the street, I’d have pictured him at a car dealership, shoving people into overpriced cars while he fanned himself with his commission checks.
He stared at me like he was struggling to place my face. Understandable. I’d only been working here for two years.
My wave was met with a slight head tilt before he turned his back to me and kept on pacing and tossing.
A full seven minutes later, laughing and smiling, he opened his door and rushed me inside, still on his call.
“Pebble Beach is so much better this time of year. I’ll hold you to that bet. Bring your son along, I’m sure he and Valerie have tons to catch up on.”
Poor guy, whoever he was. I sat in the overly slick office chair in front of Bill’s oversized glass-top desk. The leather squeaked and my butt slid forward. I wedged my elbows into the sides, bracing myself in the chair. The interior design of his office screamed, ‘‘I’m insecure and I’m going to shove my position of power down your throat every chance I get!’
“Zara.” He’d finally hung up, and now he sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers in front of his face. A glance down at the papers on his desk and back at me.
“Bill.” I pinched my lips together. My stomach knotted and I forced a neutral but pleasant curve to my lips. My grip on my pen tightened. “If there was a problem with the reports…”
His gaze swung from me to his wall of accolades. He kicked up his feet on the desk and leaned back in his chair.
“I have an assignment for you.” And he didn’t sound the least bit happy about it.