His Secretary

Chapter 6: Mathew

I punched in numbers into the calculator, without looking, as I came up with profits of our next magazine that was coming out.

I had just choose the layout and only had one article left to put in it.

Mrs. Waters' article.

I looked at the phone next to me.

I picked it up, unlocked it, and began searching through my contacts.

I found the name I was searching for and pressed call.

On the third ring a slightly aggravated voice answered.

"Hello?" Zoe's voice ran through the speaker in to my ear.

"Hi, Zoe, this is Mathew. I was just wondering what are your plans for tomorrow?"

There was a pause and a deep sigh, "Nothing. Why?"

"I need you to assist me with getting your aunt's article."

I typed more numbers in to the calculator, not really trying to solve anything.

"Yeah, I'll come-"

Suddenly Quinette burst in to my office carrying a stack, a very large stack, of papers and slammed them on to my desk.

"You need to read these."

"What are they?" I ask leaning forward slightly and lifting up the first piece, still holding the phone to my face.

"Emails and letters from our readers telling us what they want, how they want it, and when. Oh, and a couple complaints."

"What's going on?" The voice asked from the speaker.

"Mr. Johnson, are you on the phone with a woman for... Interest matters?" She asked raising her eyebrows, her facial features mutating into disgust.

"No, Quinette. This is my secretary." I said pointedly to the older woman, and then refocus my attention to the person on the other line, "Zoe, is there any chance you could come into the office now?"

"Now?" Her voice asked incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"I am, Miss Stevens. Are you coming or not?"

I heard an almost inaudible groan and then a reply.

"Fine. I'll be there. Ten to fifteen minutes."

I relieved smile came to my face, "Thank you."

"Yeah ok." She said and the call was cut off.

The elderly woman still stood in front of me, examining my face seemingly trying to pick out weakness.

"Are we done here, Mrs. O'Donnell?"

She seemed to hesitate, then unwillingly said, "Yes, Mr. Johnson. Quite." And exited my office.

I let out a deep breath of air and leaned back in to the leather chair.

I sat up straight and tried to resume in crunching up the numbers for next month.

I looked back to my phone to see a text message.

Where are you? Decided to bail on me? Shakeira Heather texted.

Oh I had forgotten about telling her I'd come to her place.

I'm afraid I won't make it tonight. I've got papers from ground to ceiling to read.

How about we have our clothes thrown from ground to ceiling instead?
She replied.

As tempting as it sounds, I sadly cannot.