“You were promised fries, huh, Janet?”
“With chicken nuggets too!”
I shake my head in obvious disapproval, although secretly I’m giving him points for effort.
“Unbelievable.”
He shrugs his shoulders and flashes me that signature Jason smile.
“This is what groveling is supposed to look like, baby.”
He’s seriously testing my resolve.
“Bye.”
* * *
When I return home that evening, my plan is to jump in the tub and read one of my historical novels to give my brain a break from the medical books until I hear a knock at the door.
I look through the peephole and there’s a man with a slight build and red hair patiently waiting with some sort of bag in his hand.
“Who is it?”
“Hi, I’m Bryan. I’m here to install your television.”
“I don’t have a tv.”
“I’m not trying to freak you out, Miss Hodges, but I work for Mr. Caraway. He sent me over to install the television.”
Of course.
“You work for him?”
“I’m his personal assistant.”
Wow.
“And he sent you here to hang my television on the wall?”
“Yes, he did.”
“You can tell him I don’t need his help. I’ve got the situation taken care of.”
“He told me you’d say that and he told me if you did I should text him, which I did, and now he wants you to check your cell phone.”
My phone vibrates against the granite countertop of my kitchen.
Gah! This man.
Jason: I have instructed Bryan to wait in front of your door until you let him in to do what I have paid him to do. He will wait there all night if he has to.
Me: You think this impressive? Putting your employees to work like this?
Jason: I’d do it myself, but you know how that will turn out. Someone will post a picture of me in front of your house online in an hour. Just trying to respect your privacy AND stick to my word.
Me: This changes nothing. I just don’t want this poor guy to sit out here all night.
Jason: Great! I’ll let him know you’ll be letting him in. It will only take him about thirty minutes, tops.
