16 years later
“You are a terrible assistant.”
Cassandra De La Croix, my best friend and current boss, stated for the second time that day. It certainly wouldn’t be the last either. Because sadly, it was true. I was useless. I frequently forgot to put appointments in her calendar, double-booked her on multiple occasions and I was usually late. But that wasn’t entirely my fault. Ever tried getting a two-year-old to get dressed and fed before seven in the morning? Well, it’s damn near impossible if you can’t even get yourself dressed and out of the house on time.
“You have to call Lexie,” Cassandra insisted. I so did not want to call Lexie. She was what you would call a super assistant. She had the looks, the brain and never forgot anything, not even a teeny tiny detail.
“I’m sure she’s busy. I’ll send her an email.” I wasn’t ashamed to admit that at this stage, I’d try anything so I didn’t have to pick up my phone and dial. Because Lexie was also scary. And she yelled. A lot.
Cassandra sighed long and loudly in her office. “Emerson.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Cassie.”
A paper ball flew at me, missing me by a mile. “Fine, I’ll do it. And just for the record, Cassandra sounds pretentious. And I’ll send an email. Nobody uses phones anymore.”
That one got me another flying object, this time a tissue box that, of course, missed me. “You will do no such thing. This needs to be done now. You can’t wait for her to check her emails. Call her.”
“I want it noted that I will do so only under duress. This counts as bullying. I will put in an official complaint to HR.”
“We don’t have an HR department, as you very well know. Now get to work before I dock your pay.” Of course I knew that, but I liked to threaten her. It made me feel better. I was only human. To prove my point, I stuck my tongue out. She gave me the finger before turning back to her computer. She knew I’d cave and do it. She was my boss, after all. I wanted to keep my job, even though recent actions might say otherwise.
But what Cassie didn’t know was that Lexie worked for Rhett. The very same person that used to share his lunch with me in second grade. The one that beat up anyone who called me trailer trash, carrot stick or—my personal favorite—Kraut. My childhood was all about being quick enough to smell the flowers before someone peed on them, and Rhett made sure I didn’t sit in any shit piles.
Things would be well if our history ended there. But it didn’t. We both grew up, and I fell madly in love with him. He didn’t return the feeling and instead of salvaging our friendship, he disappeared. Now here we were, him, as madly successful and filthy rich as was expected of a Cormack heir, and me as broke and directionless as was expected of a McAllister trailer trash.
I might not live in a trailer anymore, but I did still live with my Oma who took us in when my mom screwed up one too many times.
My hands twitched and my breathing stopped momentarily when I picked up the receiver. I could only hope super assistant Lexie was still in at six pm on a Friday.
The phone rang once, twice and I thought I would get away with leaving a message when someone picked up. “Rhett Cormack,” a deep and all too familiar voice answered. My mouth clamped shut and my eyes bugged out. Why the hell would the CEO of a multinational cooperation answer his own damn phone?
“Hello? Anyone there?”
“Hum, yes. Mr. Cormack. This is Cassandra De La Croix’s office. I’m sorry to call so late but there has been a scheduling issue, and we have to reschedule your appointment with Ms De La Croix.”
“A scheduling issue?”
“Yes. It appears Ms De La Croix has been double-booked.” Meaning, I forgot to make a note on her calendar about her appointment with one of our regular clients who would be absolutely beside himself if I cancelled last minute. And he was a whale of a client, so Rhett being new and not signed up yet, meant he was the one who had to be scheduled in for a different time. I braced myself for the shouting. Because there was always shouting. I’d had to make similar calls often enough to detect the pattern.
His even tone and calm voice surprised me. “I see. And when will Ms De La Croix be available?”
The last word ended on a hiss, something you would have to listen out for. But I’ve known Rhett long enough to know he was pissed. I could still read him like I could a cheesy romance novel; without hesitation and great skill.
“She could meet you on Sunday or Wednesday next week.” I clicked on Cassie’s calendar and cursed silently. There was no way she could make Wednesday. She usually didn’t work Sundays so I was hoping he had plans already. “Maybe Thursday would work better,” I muttered into the phone like the professional I was and realized Thursday was even worse. “Let’s say Friday instead. Definitely Friday.”
There was silence on the line, and I hoped we were cut off. I was strung tight and close to a heart attack. His voice brought back memories. Most of them amazing, some of them good and a few not so great.
I rearranged my color-coded to-do list. At least I was good at the illusion of productivity. In reality, all I had achieved today was putting all incoming mail into the green folder. I found out early on that an organized desk would get Cassie off my back.
“I’ll make this quick and put it in words you can understand,” he said. “You get your boss to meet me today, or I’ll find someone else.”
I guess I knew how he got to where he was. Besides the obvious family dynasty thing, he knew what he wanted and didn’t take no for an answer. Unless he decided to change his name to Mary and move to Timbuktu to run a Tiki bar, his family would give him free reign. And now that I knew he had his dad’s drive of taking over the world, ten companies at a time, there was really nothing stopping him. I wondered what had happened to the boy who didn’t want to be a part of the family business but to make a name for himself instead. Clearly, a lot had changed in eight years.
I was ripped out of my thoughts by the dial tone, telling me how unimportant I was in the world of Rhett. I wondered if he even remembered me. I had filled out a lot since I was sixteen; changing from a skinny teenager that was all legs and arms to a stressed out mum who ate whatever was available. I might not have birthed Josie and acquired all the kilos that came with carrying a child, but I made up for it with my pretzel habit. The more chocolate I could spoon onto those tiny suckers the better.
I stuck my head out from behind my screen and called across the small office space. “Cassandra, you gotta take a meeting today after you finish up with Winthrop.” She liked it when I used her full name and I needed her to take that meeting. I wondered if I had time to run out and get her one of those iced coffees that she liked so much.
“I can’t meet him today. Not sure if you remembered but I’m supposed to be in Indianapolis tonight for my meeting with Clarke. Which requires me to fly there. On a plane. That you hopefully booked last week when you organized the meeting with Spitfire for tomorrow.” Her eyebrows shot up in question. Oh dear, I knew that nagging feeling that I forgot to do something meant I had, indeed, forgotten to do something.
