“Fuck.”
On the other side of the glass, the animal sneezes, spraying white speckles of whipped cream all over my pristine glass wall.
“Add to your list looking into banning dogs at this office. It’s like working in a zoo.”
“You don’t mean that.” Mandy’s stubborn. “I know the stats.”
My hand clenches into a fist to keep from rubbing my temple. Why can’t she just quit? Having an assistant too long is a point of weakness. As donut boy demonstrates, if the boss relies too much or too emotionally on his assistant, someone can use that relationship to manipulate him.
God knows I’ve done it enough times myself.
“The pets keep people in the office,” she insists. “People leave and don’t come back if they have to go home and walkdogs. That’s why we have a dog-walker. And that’s why you took my advice and installed a day care.”
“I bet you just wanted it because you dream that one day, you’ll have a baby of your very own.” I cut her. “I see you with those interns—you’re not subtle.”
Now she’s crying. Not sobbing, but a few tears leak out of watery eyes.
Finally.
“Oh, and Mandy?” I add. “Since you’re clearly not long for the corporate-finance world, why don’t you put finding your replacement at the top of your list?”
3
MANDY
“You’d think he’d be happier that you found an in with Mr. Isaacs.” Jess spins around to face me as I return to my desk.
I wipe at the tears on my cheeks and pull out the glass cleaner. “He’s only happy if he gets to cut me down.”
“Aww, don’t let him get to you.” Jess dabs at my eyes with a Kleenex.
“It’s fine. That’s what the money is for, right?”
“Salinger does not pay us that much.” My friend makes a face as I quickly wipe the whipped-cream smears off of the glass wall under Salinger’s angry gaze.
He smirks as if he’s noticed the redness in my eyes.
I squirt more Windex on the glass, shielding my face from his view, then wipe it away, wishing I could wipe him away too.
“I need to go buy Salinger’s lunch.” I blow my nose. “And me another coffee. Can you watch Pepper? Be good for Auntie Jess,” I tell the corgi, “and I’ll bring you a Puppuccino.”
“Just buy a can of whipped cream and keep it in the fridge.”
“She likes the cup,” I protest, grabbing my purse.
“You get Salinger random meetings and invites all the time. Shoot, you scored him a sit-down with Michelle Obama once. I feel like you could get a stack of the Starbucks Puppuccino cups if you really wanted to.”
Pepper, seeing me put on my coat, starts whining and slobbering.
Jess makes a face. “Take her with you. She gets really upset when you’re not here, and I don’t know if Salinger’s nerves are going to take it if she starts howling.”
In his office, the man has resumed his pacing. He’s engaged in a tense conversation on his Bluetooth headset while he’s apparently texting someone and periodically answering chat messages.
“Is it just me, or is he getting worse?” Jess whispers.
“It’s that port contract. It’s worth billions of dollars,” I explain in a low voice. “It will be the biggest deal any private investment firm has done in the last fifteen years. He wants it more than he’s wanted anything else in his life. He’ll do anything for it, or so he says.”
“Sounds mentally healthy.”
