I lunge forward to help, but my shoes catch on the edge of a file cabinet drawer someone left open in the rush to save the equipment.
I slide across the floor like an ungraceful ice skater, my arms windmilling wildly. My trajectory takes me directly into a filing cabinet, which wobbles ominously before tipping into its neighbor. The domino effect is both impressive and horrifying. Five cabinets crash in succession, spewing their contents across the flooded floor.
Through the artificial rain, I spot the security team approaching. The lead guard’s expression suggests this is exactly what he expected to find, which somehow makes it worse. Water drips from my hair and into my eyes as I try to gather the scattered papers, but they disintegrate in my hands like wet tissue.
“I can fix this!” I call out to no one in particular, my voice cracking slightly. “It’s just a little water! And technically, this proves my point about blue representing liquidity in financial documents!” No one laughs. No one even sighs anymore. They’re beyond that now. To be honest, so am I. Of all the messed-upness I’ve messed up, this might be the messiest.
The sprinkler finally sputters to a stop, leaving behind a scene that looks like a paper-based tsunami hit the office. My shoes squelch with each step as I turn in a slow circle, taking in the devastation.
The security guard hands me a towel. “I really thought this would help,” I say quietly. My chest feels tight with that familiar mix of guilt and disappointment. “I just wanted to leave things better than I found them.”
He pats my shoulder, leaving a handprint on my soakedjacket. “We know, kid. We know. Why don’t you go take a break?”
I take his advice and go hide in the break room. My suit, which started the day looking merely rumpled, now resembles something fished out of a washing machine mid-cycle. I sink into a chair that squeaks in protest against my wet clothes, and my mind drifts back to my cousin Noah’s wedding, the last time I felt like I had any control over anything.
I can still see him so clearly. The silver fox with the deep brown eyes in the perfectly tailored suit, hiding in the shadows away from the reception. Something about him had called to me, had made me feel…different. Not like Meatball, the human disaster, but like someone who knew exactly what they were doing. For once, my usual awkwardness had melted away, replaced by a certainty I rarely experience.
Even carrying those champagne glasses across the garden, a task that would normally end in shattered glass and stained clothing, I’d moved with purpose, with grace even. Each step toward him had been a conscious choice, not my usual stumbling into situations headfirst and hoping for the best.
The thought of his eyes meeting mine while I was on my knees for him sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with my wet clothes. For those brief moments, I’d been someone else, someone confident, someone in control. Someone who could walk into a room without accidentally setting something on fire or flooding an entire office.
A drop of water falls from my hair onto my phone screen, which still displays the carnage of texts from Alli. I swipe it away with my sleeve, leaving a wet smear across the glass.
“Hey,” Janet says from the doorway, wringing out hersleeve. “You know I love you, so I have to say this. You should probably just go home.”
I manage a weak smile. “Yeah.”
My phone chimes with a new email notification. Through my water-spotted screen, I see my cousin Noah’s name in the sender field, and tension slips from my neck. Noah always knows when I need a lifeline, even if he doesn’t know why.
The email loads slowly, but when it finally appears, I have to read it three times to believe it. There’s an opening at Van Stern Enterprises. An actual, legitimate position at one of the most prestigious companies in the city. And Noah thinks I’d be perfect for it.
How does he know I lost my job today?
My fingers leave damp prints on the screen as I frantically Google VSE, each new tab revealing another facet of corporate excellence. A news article catches my eye:Van Stern Enterprises Continues Market Dominance Under New Leadership. The accompanying photo shows Noah’s husband, Lior Van Stern, looking every inch the corporate leader in a suit that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe. His expression is serious but kind. I remember that from the wedding, how he’d made time to talk to every guest, how he’d looked at Noah like he was the only person in the room.
My heart rate picks up as I scroll through the job description. Personal assistant to the CFO. A position that requires organization and attention to detail. I glance down at my dripping clothes, then back at the screen. The universe has a sense of humor.
With shaky fingers, I dial Noah’s number. He picks up on the second ring.
“Noah, I… Thank you for thinking of me for the position, but I don’t think I’m the right person for this job.”
“Are you kidding? You’re perfect for it.” Noah’s voice is enthusiastic. “Look, there’s comprehensive training provided, and honestly, you’d be doing Lior a huge favor. Pierce’s current PA is retiring, and he’s swamped with work. He needs someone reliable who can jump in.”
“But I don’t have any experience as a?—”
“Meatball, please. Lior’s drowning in meetings and paperwork, and I don’t want him to work himself into the ground. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it.”
I bite my lip, feeling my resolve crumble. Someone needs help, and I’ve never been good at saying no to that. “You’re sure about the training?”
“Absolutely positive. So, what do you say?”
I sigh, already knowing I’m going to regret this. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Yes! You’re the best. I’ll email you the details.” Noah’s relief is palpable through the phone. “Thank you, seriously.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up. What did I just get myself into?
2
