Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“As you know, Christy will be dealing with the most pressing matters from home, but I still need someone here to deal with my calendar and daily tasks while she’s out of the office.”
“She just had a baby,” I remind him, because he sounds put out that she’s not here to be at his beck and call.
He turns to look at me over his shoulder through narrowed eyes, and since I’m a pro at dealing with disgruntled looks that would make most people cower, I hold his gaze and wait him out.
“This is the computer you’ll use while you’re here,” he finally concedes, his jaw twitching. “Come sit down, and I’ll run you through the program we use and explain a few things before I have to head out for a meeting.”
“Sure.” I scoot past, between him and the desk, sucking in my gut so I don’t accidentally brush against him. Placing my purse and lunch bag on the floor, I pull out the chair, and once my ass is in the seat, he comes around the back of it to stand next to me. The musky scent of his cologne is not overwhelming, but mixed with his warmth, it is definitely distracting as he leans over me to get closer to the computer.
“This is the program we use for email.” He clicks on a little icon in the corner of the screen, and it pops open. “I set up a temporary address for you to use while you’re here. The emails you’ll receive will typically have to do with scheduling.” He clicks the inbox closed, then clicks the mouse’s arrow on another icon. “This is my calendar. You can add things as needed. Just make sure you don’t go into the times I have blacked out.”
“Got it,” I say, because I want him to know I heard what he said. But when he turns to glare at me, it’s obvious I’m not supposed to actually speak. “Sorry.”
“This—” He turns back to the computer and opens another icon on the bottom of the screen. “—is our phone system, and I expect you to accept every call that comes through while you’re at your desk. Again, the calls you’ll receive will have to do with scheduling. And again, don’t go into the time I have blacked out.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from speaking again, but it’s obviously the wrong move, and I know this when he turns his head my way and raises a brow. “Got it,” I whisper.
“Do you have any questions?” He steps back and looks down at me, and since he’s tall to begin with, I instantly know how my kids must feel when I tower over them at their desks.
“Is there anything I should know?”
“It’s all cut and dry. Respond to emails. When someone requests a meeting, put them in my calendar. Answer the phone.”
“Okey dokey,” I mutter, and he lets out a long breath before shaking his head.
“I’ll be out of my office for the next hour for a meeting. When I get back, if you have any questions, you can ask them then.”
“All right,” I reply, and he starts to walk off, but he stops and turns to face me, looking almost… worried?
“If my mother calls, tell her I’ll call her back. Even if you know I’m in my office and available, do not put her call through to me.”
I start to open my mouth to ask how I would even go about putting a call through to him, but before I can, he’s gone and the door is sliding shut behind him.
I let out a breath and look around, my eyes landing on a framed photo of Christy and her husband, Jack, that is placed at the corner of the desk. Picking it up, I smile, remembering the moment the photo was taken at her wedding, right after they were pronounced man and wife. Jack is in his tux, holding Christy’s face gently in his hands while he kisses her senseless, her long, rose-pink dress blowing in the wind. It was a magical moment, and even I—the biggest skeptic in the world—couldn’t deny how happy and in love they were.
Now, six years later, that still hasn’t changed. They are the poster children for the perfect couple, and Jack is one of the few men on the planet I’d let board my boat if Earth was going to be ravaged by a flood.
The ringing from the computer on the desk makes me jump, and I quickly set down the photo and swipe my finger across the trackpad to answer the call.
“Um, Mr. Ellis’s office. How can I help you?” I answer, feeling like an idiot, because I for sure should have at least asked Christy how I should answer the phone.
“Penny, it’s just me.” Christy laughs, the sound tinkling against my eardrum and making me smile.