After closing my door and turning the blinds, I take off the offending item, using the shirt to wipe any excess liquid off my skin.Thank goodness the tank I wore beneath took the brunt of the treatment. I don’t need my bra staining my clean blouse.
As I finish buttoning the last button, a knock sounds on my office door. I twist the knob and flick the blinds back open. Jackie walks in and plops right into the chair in front of my desk.
“What do you need?” I ask.
“First, what happened to your shirt?”
I tell her the story of the too many pedestrians and what happened when I made the coffee run.
“Was it your coffee that got ruined?”
“Yep.” I pop my lips.
“I’m sorry, sissy.”
“Whatever, Jackie.” I make a show of rolling my eyes, knowing that patronizing tone she uses is her charming—but entirely manipulative—way to gain something.
She pokes out her bottom lip.
It’s too early for this.I rub my forehead. If she’s using all her bags of tricks up front, she has averybig ask. “What?” I say quietly.
“I need you to arrange travel for me and the crew to LAX.”
My head snaps up. “The crew? Isaac and Ollie?” I love my brother-in-law and nephew. They don’t often travel with Jackie, only when her husband’s schedule allows it as he’s a partner in the agency.
The request is hardly difficult and not worth all the manipulative energy she’s throwing my way. “Sure. When?”
“Tomorrow,” she drawls out, ending on a lilt. Her face curls into a wince.
“Jackie Elliott Harper.” I throw her maiden and married name together since none of the Elliott girls actually have middle names.
“Val, I know you can work your magic and get us tickets.”
“I can, but they’ll cost you a pretty penny.” More like lots of pretty Benjamins.
“Daddy said I could charge the company account.”
Of course he did. Jackie is the firstborn and gets away withmurder. And Francis, the baby, gets anything she wants out of him. As typical of middle children everywhere, I get the short end of the stick on a repeated basis. Instead of complaining, I let my lips curve into false cheer.
“Thank you, Val,” Jackie squeals, as if the digits of her age of thirty years have been reversed.
“Now shoo so I can get some work done.”
“Certainly.” She stands, smoothing her black pencil skirt down. “Wanna do lunch?”
“Can’t. Dad has that lunch meeting and tasked me to assist.” Which means I’ll have to use my excellent memory to recall the key details Dad will want noted afterward. Unlike the assistants working at Elliott & Harper, I don’t have to take notes in the moment.
“Fine. But when I get back, we’re going out.”
I barely nod, my gaze focusing on the available flights leaving out of Reagan tomorrow. If she has to leave tomorrow, I need to find tickets now.
By the time Dad taps on my doorway, I’ve gotten a mountain of tasks down to a shorter, more manageable stack. I still have plenty to do after lunch, but at least now I won’t cringe when we come back to the office.
“Where are we going?” I grab my purse.
“Told them we’d treat them to The Spot.”
Yes, that’s really the restaurant’s name. My brows raise. “Fancy. Are they going to give you the terms you want to make the price worth it?”
