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The glass doors open and the cold air rushes in to meet me, raising goosebumps over my skin as I head for the elevators. Despite Matilda’s best efforts to sabotage me on my first day, I still managed to arrive only thirty minutes late—after my coffee stop, of course. Personally, I think a sweet treat was well-deserved after the morning I had.
Maybe this anger management shit is actually working?
I’m using the elevator’s reflection to reapply my lip gloss when the doors spring open.
A dark-haired woman wearing a cheetah-print pleated knee-length skirt and bright-red open-toe heels comes into view. “Oh good, you’re finally here,” she says, relief evident in her voice.
I give her a friendly smile and follow her lead as she ushers me toward her desk. What’s her name again? Angie? Jasmine?
Why am I so terrible with names?
She gestures for me to hold out my arms and loads me up with a laptop and two large binders. “That’s everything you’ll need to get started.” Then she spins me around by the shoulders and points at the opposite hallway. “They’re already in the conference room.”
“Oh…okay. Thank you…”
“Janice,” she supplies before turning on her heel and disappearing, leaving me standing there dumbfounded.
I don’t mean to sound vain, but I figured it’d take more than twenty-four hours for everyone’s curiosity about me to wear off. Apparently not.
I guess that just confirms Ashford Falls was the perfect place to spend the summer.
I blink away my confusion, realizing I’m supposed to be in the meeting, doing whatever it is assistants do. I believe he went over my duties briefly, but I was so worried about being recognized, I was barely paying attention. There was something about taking notes…I think.
It’s not a big deal. I just need to play the part, act like I know what I’m doing. Fake it ’til you make it, just like I’ve done a million times.
I hold my head high and straighten my shoulders as I step into the conference room where Roman, Luka, and Guy appear to be in a heated conversation about whose email signature is the strongest. Roman’s oldest brother, Leo, is projected onto the wall.
They all fall silent, their heads spinning to face me.
Roman’s jaw tightens.
Looks like he’s in a bad mood this morning. I guess he must take his email signature pretty seriously.
“Sorry I’m late.” I set the computer and binders down on the table. “Tilly wouldn’t get out of the pool and—”
“I’m not sure how things are done where you come from, Miss Blakely,” Roman’s deep voice cuts me off. “But around here, we at least send a text if we’re going to be more than half an hour late to work.” He scrubs a hand over his clenched jaw, looking nothing like the friendly, go-with-the-flow man I’ve come to know.
His clipped tone catches me off guard and heat rushes to my cheeks.
“Sorry… I…” The words die in my throat. Instead of trying to explain myself, I snap my lips closed and sink into my seat.
It’s not that I don’t deserve to be reprimanded for showing up late. I understand why he’s frustrated. I guess I didn’t realize it’d be that big of a deal. On set, delays are practically expected, and I’m used to being given a little more grace.
I chew on my thumbnail as that same pang of rejection I felt after he canceled on me this morning gnaws at me all over again. Any trace of confidence I was just feeling curdles inside me like spoiled milk.
I have no idea why this is making me feel so emotional right now. It’s not like I’m a stranger to receiving criticism…hell, at this point, I’m a pro. I take it on the chin like a champ. So why am I feeling like a scolded child when it’s coming from him?
That realization is like a slap in the face. I take a deep breath and remind myself of a very important truth…Roman Kingsley isn’t the first person to dislike me, and he damn sure won’t be the last.
Loaded silence stretches around us, then Leo finally asks, “Where were we?”
“Luka was updating us on the new database,” Roman supplies.
I can’t figure out how to log in to my computer—that information is probably somewhere in my onboarding paperwork that I still haven’t gotten around to reading.
Damn, I guess that’s what I get for procrastinating.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts when Luka slaps a hand on the table. “I told you I needed that list three weeks ago. How the fuck are we going to make any sales if we don’t have anything in stock?”