He grabbed a box and began to empty his desk while I laughed, going into my office and closing the door. I was sure he was putting on a show for poor Darren. If Byron thought he had enough shit to bury me, he needed to ask all the others who had come before him. I wasn’t scared at all.
Discretion in Washington, DC, was as important as the power one held in any branch of government or behind the scenes where many of us lived. They didn’t call them backroom deals for no reason.
If word got out that someone was trading on someone else’s secrets, they were done in DC. People’s careers and lives could be shattered, and sometimes, the consequences of duplicity were irreversible...or even deadly.
Nobody wanted to face that, did they?
Chapter One
Sean
Two weeks had come and gone since Byron had been escorted from the building, box in hand, and I’d done a lot of soul searching. I’d concluded that I’d blindly put my faith in the guy based on a pretty face and two talented orifices, which wasn’t the way to run a business.
How stupid was I? I’d jeopardized my entire firm with my actions, and I vowed to only work with female assistants and not become attracted to any of them. I would stop bringing random guys to my office for sex, and I’d curb my sexual exploits going forward. I had a lot to lose, and I needed to take my actions seriously.
My new assistant was at the desk outside my office, and I’d gotten through a lot of work without anyone kneeling under my desk while I took conference calls. I was clear-headed and ready to take the bull by the horns. That was, until my phone chimed at four-thirty, my usual cocktail break.
After hemming and hawing for a few minutes, I stepped from behind my desk and pulled on my suitcoat. “There’s nothing wrong with having a cocktail at the end of a long day.” It didn’t take much talking to convince myself I was right.
I stepped out of my office to address my new assistant, whom I hadn’t spoken with except for a few minutes that morning when I arrived to find her already settling in. She appeared to be all business and not one for chit-chat. She offered to get me coffee that morning but I was too afraid to take her up on it, so I got it myself. There was a new sheriff in town, for damn sure.
I pretty much holed up in my office all day. Now, it was time to leave, and it seemed smart to speak to her before I headed out.
I walked out of my office and approached her desk. I noticed a couple of picture frames on the filing cabinet behind her desk, containing photos of her with a few small children. Was Ms. Lambert a grandmother? I didn’t know any grandmothers.
“Ms. Lambert, uh, Gloria, hi. I’m stepping out for a bit. I’ve signed the letters you gave me earlier and put them in my outbox for you to mail today before you leave. In case I don’t get back before you go, I’ll be on The Hill all morning tomorrow for—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Fitzpatrick. My name isMrs. Lambert. I’m a widow but I still use the honorific. I prefer to keep a professional distance from my coworkers and supervisor, so I willnotcall you Sean, and I prefer you never to address me as Gloria. I leave precisely at five o’clock unless we arrange otherwise that I’ll stay late, come in early, or work weekends.”
I’d asked the director of Human Resources to find me a new assistant, and they’d done a hell of a job.Mrs.Lambert was in her mid- to late-fifties, I guessed. She was the definition of professional, and exactly what I needed after the shit show I’d created with Byron.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lambert. I appreciate the information. As I was saying—"
“Here is your briefing book, based on the notations on your online calendar. Going forward, I’d appreciate it if you’d give me more than a day’s notice when you have an important meeting. I could have done a better job of creating bullet points if I had been more knowledgeable about the subject matter, but I did my best. I assume I’ll become better equipped to anticipate your needs as time goes by.”
She handed me the familiar leather-clad D-ring notebook, and when I flipped it open, I was absolutely stunned. It was arranged chronologically, according to appointment time, with a divider listing the name of the individual I was meeting with. Affixed to the front of each tab was a typed bullet-point card with the list of topics I planned to address. There were even extra sheets behind each tab to make notes. It was better than anything I’d previously done for myself.
I hadn’t delegated the task of gathering background information to Byron. He wouldn’t have any idea what materials I’d need for the meetings, but Mrs. Lambert seemed to have a damn good handle on it. I was impressed.
“This is a great briefing book, Mrs. Lambert. Where do you come to us from?” I’d had no input on hiring her, having intentionally left it all to HR. After what happened with Byron, I believed it was best, and our head of HR, Inez Vasquez, agreed wholeheartedly. I guess with my hiring of Byron, it was a bit obvious that I didn’t take the job-skills aspect as seriously as I should have.
“I worked for the former Vice Chair of the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation. When he decided to retire, I submitted my resume to an employment agency specializing in high-level executive support positions. I was contacted to come in for an interview last week and offered the position before I left the appointment.
“If you have any issues with me as your assistant, I suggest you take it up with Miss Vasquez.”
She then began clearing her desk for the day before she rose from the chair and went to my office to collect the things in my outbox. Maybe things would work out after all.
I rode the service elevator to the first floor and exited through the loading dock to the alley that connected my office building to a bar that had been my go-to for several years, Café Berlin. It wasn’t fancy, but it wasn’t a dive. I liked everyone who worked there, and they liked me because I spent cash when I was there. The German menu was delicious.
I walked in through the back door and sat down at the dark end of the bar. Claus, the German bartender, walked down and tossed a napkin in front of me. “Hello, boss. How was your day?”
I chuckled. “Surprisingly, it wasn’t bad. How about yours?”
“It was good. My son got accepted at Penn State.” It was easy to see how proud he was of his son. It was good to witness the pride a father had in his son. I’d never had that luxury.
“Congratulations. Does he know what he wants to study yet?”
Claus laughed. “Nope, not a clue. Now it’s my turn to worry. I’ve got to figure out how to pay for it.”
