“Fine,” I mutter, reaching for the remote. I need to put on a game or something, need to get out of my head.
But Sophie’s hand touches mine, gently taking the remote from me. “You’re not fine, Aid. What’s wrong?”
I chew my chicken murderously. The worst part is I can’t even tell Sophie what happened. My sister and I are close, but not close enough to share our sexual escapades, and even if we did, I’m not sure I like the way I look when I consider what Iris and I did from an outsider’s perspective. She’s eighteen years my junior, and we hooked up in the restroom at a bar after she’d been drinking. Now, I’m essentially her boss. I know what we did was consensual—that she pushed for it far more than me—but if I were on the outside looking in, I’d seem like a Goddamn predator.
Which is exactly how I fear John would see it if he were to find out.
But what Icanshare is the frustration at working with someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing. Sophie knows how important efficiency is to me, how much I relied on Mandy. She’ll understand.
“My new assistant started today,” I mumble, taking a swig from my beer.
“That’s good.” Sophie smiles, handing me the fried rice, finally shrimp-free. “How is she?”
“Terrible.”
Sophie’s brow creases. “Uh-oh. Why?”
God, where to start? The files I gave her to deal with that mysteriously disappeared? The emails I asked her to send that she never got around to? That her desk looked like a Post-it bomb had hit it by the end of the day?
“She’s a mess. Completely inexperienced, and it shows.”
Sophie wrinkles her nose. “Shit. That’s not helpful. Why did you hire her then?”
“I didn’t. John did.” I waver, unsure if I should mention his fatherly favor, then decide to be honest. “She’s his daughter.”
“Right.” Soph mulls this over as she reaches for her beer. “So I guess you’re stuck with her.”
I give a grim nod. It certainly seems that way. I tried again in the afternoon to approach John about perhaps reassigning her, but it was clear the topic was not up for debate. And given John’s still pissed about the meeting I missed—the one I forgot all about while I was in the restroom with his daughter—I knew better than to push the subject.
“Maybe she’ll improve,” Sophie suggests hopefully.
“I doubt it,” I mutter. “She’s all over the place. Her desk is a mess, and she insists on writing notes in a notebook instead of working on her computer. She has a brand new iMac, for Christ’s sake. It makes no sense.”
Sophie considers me carefully as she chews some Kung Pao chicken. “Just because someone does things differently than you doesn’t mean they’re wrong, Aid.”
I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. “I miss Mandy,” I say, like a petulant little boy, and she laughs. She’s the only person who’ll let me get away with shit like that.
“Come on, give this new woman a chance. She might have a different approach, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be helpful.”
“But the mess,” I say, shaking my head. That might be what annoyed me the most. I keep my office and my homeimmaculate. Always have. “How can she do anything with a desk snowed under with papers?”
Soph shrugs. “She probably has a system. Remember how my room was always a mess when we were kids?” She shoots me a grin, and I cut her an amused look. I remember all too well. “But it worked for me. I had my own way of doing things.” Her smile turns rueful. “Go easy on this poor woman. If she’s anything like me, she’s had a lifetime of people telling her she does everything wrong.”
I soften at my younger sister’s words. Sophie is her own brand of quirky and always has been. I can’t count the number of times she got in trouble at school, or with our parents, for doing things outside the box. But that’s Soph, and I’ve always loved her for simply being herself. Always felt protective of her when others had an issue with it. Sophie might be a little chaotic, but she also cares deeply about the people she loves, sees the world in ways others never can, and is a gifted artist.
“How’s the painting going?” I ask, and Soph grins.
“Good. Jada’s helping me get into a show in Greenpoint.”
I smile as I sip my beer. Sophie and her wife, Jada, met at the gallery Jada runs in the Meatpacking District a few years back. They got married late last year, and Jada took my place as Sophie’s biggest champion. It’s through her connections that Soph has gotten her paintings featured in some of New York’s bigger galleries, and her career has started to blossom.
“That’s great,” I say, silently praying she’ll get it as I reach for the Kung Pao again. Soph doesn’t take rejection well, and I hate to see her crushed. “How’s married life treating you?”
She smiles. “I love it. I never thought I’d want to get married after…” she trails off, not saying what we’re both thinking.After Mom left. “But it’s the best thing I ever did.” Sophie watches me for a moment, expression thoughtful. “You really should try it, Aid. Don’t you get lonely?”
I consider this. Between long hours at the office and early mornings at the gym, I don’t have time to feel lonely. I think of the way it felt to lie alone in bed last night, replaying the moment I shared with Iris in Marco’s, then push the thought from my head. She’s thelastperson I need in my bed.
“I’m too busy to get lonely,” I mutter to my sister, and she gives me a wry smile.
