The fifty-something mother of three I’d hired as my assistant was rapidly turning into one of the best decisions I’d ever made. She was on time, organized, and stylish enough for any front office. She’d already saved me hours of time on administrative tasks.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to fetch me coffee.” I didn’t want her to feel like there was some 1970s secretary standard to maintain.
“I know, but I was getting some for myself. It was just as easy to pour some for you too.” She took a sip from her mug and smiled at me, clearly happy with her day so far.
That was another thing. I’m sure she had problems like everyone else, but unlike plenty of other people, she seemed genuinely happy with the way her life was going. It made sharing an office with her a pleasure.
In her interview, she’d mentioned her youngest going off to college and wanting to find a new challenge for herself. She hadn’t worked outside the home in decades, but she sold her organizational skills and that, more than anything, was what I needed.
I’d had several recent Tulane graduates apply and one or two DIY designers but sharing space with another designer and navigating the inevitable jockeying for creative control didn’t interest me. At least not until I had more design work than I could handle myself. I needed someone who could wrangle contractors and help maintain schedules, someone who could run the office and handle all the administrative bits and pieces so I could focus on the things only I could do.
Claire proved herself more than up to the tasks. Just that morning, I’d heard her on the phone with the electrician for the Benson dining room remodel, using the perfect combination of threat and flattery to make sure the fixtures I’d chosen were installed on schedule.
“I’ll have the updated schedule from the contractors to you this afternoon.” She took another sip of coffee, looking crisp and efficient in a white blouse, camel-colored skirt, and a pair of slingbacks that were well above her pay grade. She eyed the trash can beside my desk before shifting her gaze back to me. “Do you want me to order lunch? You were here awfully early this morning. You can’t live on power bars and sheer force of will.”
“Watch me,” I said with a smile.
Claire’s tendency to mother might have annoyed me under other circumstances, but for now it charmed me. I thought of her kids going out into the world and wondered what it must have been like to grow up with a mother who’d actually wanted the job. One who had enough maternal energy left over to share with practical strangers.
“Lunch would be great.” Now that I started thinking of food, I realized I was hungry. “Does Marcons suit you? I love their chopped beet and goat cheese salad.” Claire was right. I had the force of will in spades but I would need more than my meager breakfast to get through the rest of the day.
“That sounds perfect. Should I order it for half an hour from now?”
“Have them deliver it. It’s too hot to walk outside today.” The weather in the city could change on a dime, and we’d gone from pleasant to scorching almost overnight. I wondered how Jake and his dog were making out. If they were still running together in this heat.
I wondered about Jake a lot. Any time I saw something that made me laugh. Earlier in the week, I’d passed a shop window displaying anIt’s a feature, not a bugtote with a giant spiderweb and spider printed in the center. I almost sent him a picture, but after our last exchange, the ball was firmly in his court. I wasn’t above being persistent—my recent slew of one-sided texts proved that—especially for something as important as a relationship with Jake, but he needed to make the next move.
My cell rang, and I jumped as if my thoughts could have called the man I’d been obsessing over. The screen showed Kindra’s serene smiling face.
“Hey, it’s good to hear from you. What’s up?” I hoped it was a chance to get together. We hadn’t seen each other since Charlotte and Ford’s mutual proposal, and I could use some time with my friends to help me get out of my head.
“I’ll tell you what’s up.” She sounded more frazzled than I’d ever heard her. “My office is a swamp. The pipes in the day spa on the floor above me burst, flooding everything below it.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful. What can I do to help?” Holding the phone to my ear with one hand, I flipped through my contacts with the other, looking for the restoration companyI’d worked with. Her landlord would handle the building, but Kindra’s office was filled with books and crystals and art and rugs. She had personal items that would need to be dealt with if they could be saved.
“I need a space to work. Somewhere I can see clients. The landlord says it will be months before I can get back into my office.” She sounded desperate.
Kindra never sounded desperate. She was my calm through the storm friend. Peace and light and a clear sense of purpose. It made her easy to talk to, which made her great at her job. Nothing ruffled her.
“I’ve contacted some rental companies, but nobody’s got anything with immediate occupancy. I can’t make my clients wait months, and no one, including me, wants to go back to COVID Zoom sessions.” She paused and sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call and dump all my problems on you. I just thought you might know of some available space.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m happy for a chance to help you for a change.” Solving a problem for Kindra would be a nice shift from always going to her with my problems. “Let me see what I can come up with. I’ve got a few ideas. Aside from private office space for sessions, do you have any other requirements?”
“A place for clients to wait would be great but not strictly necessary, and access to a bathroom. Anything else would be icing. Do you really think you can find something?” Her voice held an edge of hopefulness that made me even more determined to find a solution to her problem.
“I do. Give me a couple hours, and I’ll get back to you by the end of the day.”
“You’re a lifesaver. Honestly, Elena, I’m at my wits’ end.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you even close to the end of your wits, but I’m more than happy to help.”
“Now that I’m finished bombarding you with my issues, what’s going on with you? How’s the new assistant working out?”
“She’s brilliant.” I glanced to the other room, where Claire sat organizing the grout samples I’d never been able to make the time to complete. “I wish I’d done this sooner.”
“I’m so glad,” she said, some of her normal calm seeping into her voice. “And what about Jake? Have you sorted things out with him?”
Had I? Maybe. I didn’t think he still felt hurt about my overstepping, if he even had to begin with, but I also didn’t know if I’d ever hear from him again. Which was a less than desirable outcome.
