Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Why aren’t you getting the drinks we asked for,” his mother said.
“Because I am a paralegal, not a secretary.” I was very careful to be as polite as possible.
“What is the difference?” Designer Barbie asked, popping her hip to the side and staring daggers down at me, her lips pressed together in a thin line. I wondered for a moment whether, if she kept her lips like that long enough, would her thick lip gloss help them stick like that?
“Mr. Astrid’s secretary is in charge of his meetings and organizing his day, making sure he has whatever he needs, from coffee to files. I am here to assist with his caseload, which means I work with him on the cases he is building, doing the research needed, providing and filing legal documents, and things of that nature. If you don’t mind, he will be out shortly, and I do have a lot of work to do.”
“I still don’t see the difference. People like you should be grateful to work for my son. You should be tripping over your ugly little shoes to get us coffee or whatever else we need.” Mrs. Astrid’s face twisted into an ugly scowl.
Nothing good was going to come from responding, so I didn’t.
“I’m sure Harrison will be out soon,” the Barbie said, turning away from me and facing Mrs. Astrid.
“Do you think the Plaza is the right place for the reception? Or is it a little too done?”
“It is the only acceptable place for the reception,” Mrs. Astrid responded. “I just hope my son understands the caliber of guests that we are expecting and doesn’t invite just anyone.”
I didn’t have to look up to know she was staring at me. The weight of her gaze and her judgment made my skin crawl.
“Well, when I am his wife, I will make sure he has better people working for him.”
Designer Barbie’s words made me freeze. I didn’t look up, not wanting to see the expression on her face. I didn’t know which would be worse, a smug smile that said she was having me fired, or a look of rage and indignation that said she knew what had happened between Mr. Astrid and me.
This woman was his fiancée.
I had kissed another man’s fiancée, and that made me worse than her.
I clenched my teeth and took long, slow breaths through my nose, trying to slow my heart rate.
It didn’t matter.
He was never mine.
This would just make it easier to be completely professional.
I repeated that over and over in my head until those manicured nails were in my face again, snapping at me like a dog.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, looking up at Mrs. Astrid, who was glowering down at me.
“I asked when my son would be out.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know. He has been made aware of your arrival.”
The future Mrs. Astrid put her hands on the top of my cubicle and gave me a cruel smirk. “You are useless and terrible at your job. I suggest you pack your things because I am going to make sure Harrison fires you.”
Mr. Astrid’s mother laughed, a high-pitched, shrill sound that hurt my ears.
I stared up at this girl and wondered what had happened to her to make her so needlessly cruel. Or maybe she was just born like that. It didn’t matter, not really.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” Mr. Astrid strode out of his office.
“We are here so that you can take us to lunch,” she said, the cruel laughter and smile gone the second she heard her son.
“I don’t have time today. I have work to do.”
“I’m sure your secretary can cover for you,” his fiancée said. “I promise it will be a short lunch. We just have some things to discuss. You have to eat, don’t you?” Her smile was wide and bright, and if I hadn’t heard the way she’d just talked to me, I would have thought she was the sweetest woman on the planet.
“We have come all the way down here,” his mother said.
“Had you called...” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and I couldn’t help but notice how his entire body was rigid.
I must have spent too long noticing Mr. Astrid’s body language because his fiancée gave me a chilly look, then stepped in between us and took his arm.
I took the hint and redirected my attention back to my work.
“I did call,” Mrs. Astrid said. “Your new secretary didn’t answer. She must need some time to get the hang of being on your desk.”
“Right.” Mr. Astrid’s voice seemed overly formal when dealing with his mother, but it wasn’t any of my business.
I was staring at the pages of the file I was currently working on, pretending I was reading the words, but I couldn’t help listening to the conversation that was rudely happening practically on top of my desk.