The Secretary and Her Boss

Chapter 4

I looked like I had gotten beat up in an alley. My face was heavily bruised, dress covered in blood, and it was all due to my inability to WALK. THROUGH. A. DOOR.

Allie had been right, people in the bathroom whispered concerns about her treatment of me as I tried to scrub the blood out of my dress. I tried to explain, but when they looked at my face, they flinched back as if believing my new beat-up look was something they could catch.

After several minutes of angry scrubbing, the blood had spread, making my pink dress look tie-dye. Adding a thick layer of foundation to my face made me look utterly pale and off-color. So as I sat back down at my desk, I felt more clown than assistant.

I felt like a fool as I watched a cleaning crew scrub Laurence Royal's rug, and the glass wall. I hated that there was a literal clean up crew scrubbing away the physical mess I made of an emotional situation.

The day was a blur of phone calls, aspirin for my smashed face, organizing sketches for the next line of clothes Allie was creating, more aspirin, putting together financials for Laurence, ordering lunch for both of my bosses, taking notes during one of Laurence and Allie's financial negotiation meetings that was more shouting than anything else and then more aspirin.

By the time the day came to a close, my face was numb, and I was utterly drained. I began to pack up my things, intending to crawl into a bath and watch You've Got Mail, when a new voice startled me.

"Excuse me," a voice said, annoyed. I looked up, from where I had begun to stack large folders into a filing cabinet under my desk, surprised to find a tall, beautiful woman with black hair standing before me, clutching the smallest purse known to humankind.

What did women keep in tiny purses?

"Yes?" I asked, too tired to put a smile on my face. I gave myself a pass after headbutting a glass wall and losing.

"I'm here for Laurence," she said, sounding irritated that I hadn't read her mind.

"Do you have an appointment?" I asked, glancing toward my computer, wondering if I had missed an appointment on his schedule.

She scoffed. "We have a date. And what are you, his keeper?"

I blinked up at her. The aspirin was wearing off, and I was becoming cranky. "Yes. I literally keep his schedule."

She looked me up and down, the way women did when analyzing a threat, and smiled that smile that said I was clearly little more than a bug, nothing to worry about when it came to threats.

"Cute. I wasn't aware that they hired just anybody off the street to work at a fashion company."

"And I wasn't aware that his poor taste transferred to women too," someone said behind me.

I spun to find Allie sitting in my desk chair, eyes on the computer screen, pulling up the master calender with a few stroke of the keys. "But I don't see 'Taking charity case out to dinner,' on his schedule so perhaps there is hope for him yet."

The woman's jaw dropped, clearly outmatched when it came to biting one-liners. Allie glanced over at the woman, brow suddenly going up, as if surprised to still find her standing there. "Oh, are you still here? Feel free to see yourself out. Only office personnel are allowed on this floor."

The woman continued to stare at Allie for another beat before she finally recovered her ability to speak. "I could have you fired. Both of you!"

Allie leaned back in my chair, a small smile crossing her mouth. One that didn't reach her eyes. "Tell you what. You go walk into his office right now. Tell him to fire me. If he does, I'll go without a word. If he doesn't, then you leave and never come back."