“Well, no other cafe brand makes coffee the way we do, so…” I stalled as his jaw clenched. “Seattle’s Best? Dunkin’ Donuts?”
“Starbucks.” His voice was terse. “It’s them versus us, until they no longer exist or until they only have ten stores in the entire country left.”
You might’ve bought the wrong coffee company for that…
“I’ll give you a couple days to acquaint yourself with my schedule, but you’ll shadow me for the first month,” he said. “You have until the end of this week to memorize binder two. Binder three is due next week.”
A woman rushed in and set a brand-new phone in my lap before disappearing.
“Do you have any questions before our meeting is over, Miss Stone?”
“Yes.”
“Now would be a good time to ask it.”
“Why don’t you already have an executive assistant?”
“I did have one.” He leaned forward. “He’s currently suing me.”
“Oh…”
“Four of the ones I had before that are suing me as well, so before you get any ideas, I have the best lawyers in the world, and your case will go nowhere if you try it,” he said. “Clear?”
“Crystal clear.”
“Good.”
Out of the corner of my eye, a different woman—one I slightly recognized—moved in front of me with a black designer briefcase. She lifted the laptop and binders from my lap, buckling the things inside.
“Heather, this is Miss Andrea Stone,” he said. “Miss Stone, this is Heather. I’ve just promoted her from the sixth floor since Mr. Lewis’s receptionist decided not to come in on a vacation day. Whatever that is.”
Heather and I exchanged confused glances before she rushed away.
“Now…” He stood and moved in front of me—close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”
“Not at this time, Mr. Cross.”
“You’re supposed to ask me about my time policy.” He picked up a stone hourglass from the edge of his desk. “It’s not in the binders.”
“Okay.” I swallowed. “What’s your time policy?”
“It’s very simple.” He tilted it upside down, letting the sand fall slow and steady. “When you’re on the clock, your time belongs to me. There’s always something to do, so I won’t appreciate you wasting it on things like gossiping or lunch breaks.”
“I don’t get lunch breaks anymore?”
“No onedoes,” he said. “They’re unnecessary. You can eat while you work.”
I blinked.
“All your time is mine,” he said. “End of story.”
His phone sounded, and he pulled it out of his pocket.
“You can leave now,” he said. “Come back at eleven o’clock to shadow a sales pitch meeting. Exactly eleven o’clock, or else.”
“Will do, sir.” I stood up and rushed out of the room before he could say anything else.
I carried the briefcase two floors down to my cubicle and vowed to get through at least ten pages of each binder.
