I tried to push it aside. But no matter what I did, I just could not focus. Not with that man out there, roaming my city, and possibly walking back into my office at any given moment.
It was unnerving, and far too distracting.
Maybe I just need to go on a hot date.
I wonder if I’ll have a job tomorrow.
How much do personal shoppers get paid?
Chapter Ten
Dane
Igot back to the agency well after dinner. I’d eaten during a dinner meeting, and while the CEO of a multi-million-dollar mass media and broadcasting company owned by Valhalla spoke about the company’s incredible prospects for growth in the year ahead, I wondered if dinner had been delivered to the agency yet.
And if the Indian food, which I’d had the receptionist with the Kool-Aid-red hair order in for lunch, was any good.
And if Devi really hated Indian food.
It never occurred to me before that anyone hated Indian food.
Was she fucking with me?
On my way back to the agency after the dinner meeting, I actually called Wiley. My senior PA had flown in while I was in meetings; he’d gone straight to the agency to make sure dinner was brought in, dropped off some paperwork from Velma for me, then headed over to the penthouse to take care of some things for me there. When I got him on the phone, I asked him if the dinner had arrived on time. He said it did. Then I asked him if everyone ate.
“Uh… yes, I think so,” he said, like he was trying to figure out what I was really asking him.
“Good. Did Devi Sereda eat?”
There was a silent pause, then, “Uh… Debbie?”
“Devi. Sereda,” I said icily. “She’s one of the agents.”
“Right. Yes, I think she ate,” he said quickly.
Honestly, he probably had no idea who I was talking about and wondered if I was drunk or something. Or finally crumbling under the pressure of the last several days. He’d never heard words like these out of my mouth.
“Cool. How is everything else?”
“Great,” he said, and I could practically hear his mind spinning. What the hell was I looking for? Why did I just use the word “cool” like a regular person? Why was I asking inane questions that I never asked? “Everything’s set for you here at the penthouse.”
“Great. Good. Uh… see you later.” I hung up.
Jesus.That was the most awkward conversation I’d ever had with the man. Wiley had worked for me for six years, and I’d never once asked him if someone had been fed, much less asked him to feed anyone. Today would be the first time I’d ever asked anyone on my team to bring in food for an office of people who worked for me.
My team did things like that. But not because Iasked them to.
When I wanted work done by people who worked for me, I generally forgot about the fact that they were human and had functions beyond whatever output was required of their job. Including eating.
As soon as I’d arrived back at the agency, I had Lizzie call everyone into the tiny little meeting room and gave them my spiel about why Janelle was let go—the edited version, in which I said nothing about the woman being a thief—and how their jobs were safe and yada yada. I kept it brief and did not look Devi in the eye.
Then I escaped back to my office—since when did I start thinking of it asmyoffice?—and made a few calls. And before I knew it, it was eight o’clock.
Time for my meeting with the in-house accounting department, which consisted of one woman named Claire something.
I asked her a few questions. I had her divulge where I might locate certain files and documents I’d like to have a look at; I’d already had a glimpse inside her office and it was a nightmare.
And then I fired her.
