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.”
