“Did you, by chance, entertain the possibility that, despite everything that’s transpired over the past few days—including the events we’ve agreed to forget—youmightbethe best and most promising candidate for this project? That your coworkers, while definitely more professional, don’t hold the same kind of passion or drive I’ve seen in you?”
I click my tongue and rock on my heels. “I did not.”
He nods once and smiles. “Well, in light of the inadvertent miscommunication on my part, I wish to clarify. This position is not, as you put it, a punishment, payment, or form of pity. And should you wish to continue in the role, I do have a few things I’d like to have you handle before our meeting next week.”
Doing everything short of actually biting my tongue off, I fight to keep my response tight. “Right. Yes. Sorry.”
I clear my throat and take a seat in one of the chairs facing his desk, ready to be the personification of professionalism. Poising my pen above the paper, I wait for him to continue. After a few beats of quiet, I risk a glance. He’s staring with an unreadable expression, his lips tugged up in a half smile. We hold this gaze for a moment, the tension only breaking when his cell phone trills. He answers it, holding a finger up in what I take as an invitation to wait.
As he talks on the phone and shuffles papers, I resolve to be the best damn assistant he’s ever had. Having the reassurancethat I earned this job and will earn the bonus I need to buy Nan’s, brings a ray of hope that burns away all the shame surrounding the last two days. In three months time, I will have everything I need to break out on my own, including the experience of launching a brick and mortar storefront.
Maybe Kara was right. Maybe the universe does have my back.
The adjustment into my new role passes with relative ease, and no more explosive surprises, while Noah and I each fall into a pattern and learn the other’s preferences. As I vowed that day in his office, I push myself into being the best goddamn assistant he’s ever had, making note of every half smile or look of relief and the correlating circumstances.
In what turns out to be a pleasant surprise, his routines fit into my life and my habit of being a little tardy in the mornings, as well as my penchant for online shopping after lunch. Today, I’m counting down the minutes until my early afternoon and the impending weekend, by perusing vintage art prints on my favorite online antique store and dreaming about the way they’ll line the walls of my future diner. Tonight, I have plans to stop byNan’s and accompany her to her weekly poker game at the senior center. Kara, too, plans to join us, which means it will be easy to slide into our regular weekend shenanigans.
“Adonis incoming,” Ben hisses as he returns from the break room and ducks below the shared wall of our cubicles.
His predictable nickname started circulating shortly after Noah’s arrival, and while I can’t exactly argue with the sentiment, I have teased him, on more than one occasion, for how on the nose it is. I close out the shopping window and pull up one of the project spreadsheets I’m supposed to have been drafting.
“Charlotte.” Noah’s voice is strained. Panic grips my insides.
“Yes?”
“I’m afraid I need more of your time this afternoon. Scented Acres may be chilling to our proposals, and I’m worried some of the others may follow suit.”
I frown. Scented Acres is on the list of our greenlit brands for the launch—the list we put together with marketing just two hours ago.
“Of course. I will reschedule my afternoon and can be here. I need to step out and make a phone call. Do you need anything? I can grab you a coffee or a green juice.”
Noah is already staring at his phone, his brow furrowed with stress. “That’s fine, but dinner’s on me.”
Dinner? How late does he think we’ll be here? Dread trickles into my toes knowing the two of us will be alone in the office again. It’s been a full three weeks since the meeting that shall not be discussed, but based on the way I’m still losing sleep over it, I have a feeling it will haunt me for the rest of time.
My walk to the coffee shop down the street is quick and as I wait for our drinks, I pull my phone out to call Nan.
“Hello?”
“Hi Nan, it’s Lottie.”
She chuckles. “I figured. You and Henrietta are the only ones who call me and she’s sitting right here.”
“Hi, Henrietta,” I chime, knowing Nan will have turned the phone towards her friend. The cashier calls out my order and I step up to the counter. Pulling a drink carrier off the stack, I wedge the two green juices into the slots before pushing back out into the afternoon as Henrietta continues to chatter.
“Nan tells me you’ll be joining our card game this evening. I want to warn you about Bud—he’s new and a shark if I’ve ever seen one.”
I close my eyes against the disappointment I know is about to crest. “About that. I’m going to have to rain-check that round of cards. My boss asked me to stay late for a time-sensitive project, and I told him I’d be there.”
Time-sensitive might be pushing it, as far as the truth goes, but my gut says Noah wouldn't have asked me if it wasn’t. Nan’s voice interrupts before I can start worrying about why Noah looked so worried.
“Is this the cute boss?”
I frown, unsure how she would know about how cute or not cute he is. I made a point not to tell her last weekend, and aside from?—
“Hi Lottie,” Kara’s voice rings out.Of course.The conversation I had with Kara this morning about meeting at Nan’s for pre-poker coffees plays back in my head as Nan pipes up again, the hint of a chuckle in her voice.
“Kara was just telling us about how your handsome boss gave you an important promotion. How wonderful!”
