Like so much else I’ve tweaked since officially taking this job, Trevor waved it off and said it was fine if I continued doing it.
So that’s how I handle pretty much everything now. When I do something and he questions it, I simply tell him it’s how we handled it in my previous career, and he goes with it.
Carrying in the small, rectangular, glass container and his steaming coffee, I set both items down in front of him while he makes a phone call. The first few times I tried to explain what I was feeding him, but quickly learned he doesn’t even notice what he eats. Just inhales whatever I put on his desk and keeps working.
So now I’m two people’s snack bitch. At least this one pays me.
After clearing away the remnants of his snack, and serving upanother cup of coffee, I go to work scanning all the documents we received today into their proper digital files. It’s tedious work—probably why Trevor hadn’t been doing it himself when he was assistantless—but after spending three full days last week getting everything caught up, it now takes less than an hour each morning, and I’m done with them until the next day.
For the rest of the morning, I work my way through the list we compiled. Returning phone calls Trevor can’t be trusted to handle. Composing follow-up emails and reaching out to department heads about their upcoming quarterly reviews.
There’s so much to be done that the time flies by, and before I know it, my favorite security guard, Ray, is delivering the lunch order I placed using Trevor’s credit card. He drops it off with a wink and a grin, promising to show me new pictures of his grand dog before I go home.
I’m about to unpack everything so I can give Trevor his and take mine to Tucker’s office so we can spend lunch together, when Trevor is suddenly on the move, storming out of his office like a bat out of hell.
“Bring that.” He barks the demand at me, closing his eyes for a second as he blows out a breath. “Don’t give me shit right now. Just please bring our lunch and follow me.”
I’m kind of impressed. I didn’t even have a chance to react, but he already knew what was coming and course corrected.
He’s getting to be such a big boy.
I nearly drop back down on my ass the second I’m upright. Spending the last couple hours at my desk made it easy to forget about my shoes. Biting down against the discomfort, I pick up our bag from Greenhouse Café and do my best to walk like a human as Trevor practically runs through our wing of the building.
He’s moving fast, and I’m all starting to get a little concerned. “Where are we going?”
“I just got a call from Titus. We need to have a lunch meeting.” Trevor bites the words out, sounding less than pleased.
Not that he ever sounds pleased.
“Fine, but why do I have to go?” I was really hoping to spend some time with Tucker. And if I can’t do that, I’d rather sit at my desk and doom scroll social media than take notes on whatever it is they’re discussing. “Can you record it and I’ll transcribe it later?”
“No.” It’s a simple answer.
One that might result in his club-plus-avocado sandwich being crammed up his crap hole.
I’m hobbling along, wondering if the slippery feel in my pumps is sweat or blood as I try to keep up. Unfortunately, whatever it is, it only makes it more difficult to walk in these things.
I stumble, nearly going down in the center of the large—and busy—lobby.
“Oop.” A strong hand grips my arm, managing to keep me from face planting.
I’ve barely regained my balance when Tucker grabs the bag of food from my hands, shoving it against the center of Trevor’s chest. “Why the fuck aren’t you carrying this, dick?” His eyes come to me, brows pinched in concern as he looks me over. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” There’s resignation in my voice. “It’s just these damn shoes. I don’t know how Brooke functions in them.”
I wanted so much to be glamorous like she is. Since we don’t have to wear a uniform here, I was excited about building my own professional wardrobe. And since I love Brooke’s so much, I was thrilled when she offered to help me.
The thrill is gone.
“Don’t do it.” Trevor shakes his head, nostrils flared as he looks between me and Tucker. “Don’t you dare do it.” His jaw sets. “I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.”
Tucker shoots him a smirk. “Don’t even try.” His next move is swift and sudden. He scoops me up, carrying me in his arms bridal style. There’s a wicked grin on his face as he turns toward Trevor. “I’ll tell Mom the only reason this makes you so upset is because you’re sad you don’t have anybody of your own to carry around.” Tucker turns away, easily carrying me through the building while Trevor yells after us.
“Fuck you, Tuck. You’re an asshole.”
I peek over Tucker’s shoulder at where Trevor stands, fuming, our lunch bag clutched in one hand. “What is he mad about?”
Trevor gets mad about a lot of things, so it’s not shocking to see him upset. I just can’t quite figure out what it is he’s got his panties in a bunch over this time.
