Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
One girl, about my age with dark blond hair, smiled as we passed. If she was supposed to be the office slut, she hid it well beneath her conservative clothing and wholesome face. “Hi, Kage,” she said under her breath.
“Alicia,” Kage said flatly, and I couldn’t help wondering if there was a story there.
When we got to the back of the office, I asked the question that was currently driving me crazy. “Why do some people call you Kage, and you introduce yourself as Michael Kage, but Cathy just called you Mr. Santori?”
He shrugged. “Michael Kage Santori is my legal name. But I don’t like Santori, so I dropped it.”
“That makes sense.”
“Does it?”
The brusqueness of his tone made it feel like he was putting me in my place for something, though for what I had no idea. Still, I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t bring up the name thing again.
When we got to the back of the office area, I noted three empty cubicles, one of which I assumed belonged to Mark Gladstone. There were several doors back there, too. “Any of these offices empty?” Kage asked loudly to no one in particular.
Alicia came up beside us. “They’re all taken, Kage. Management, you know.”
I had the sudden fear that Kage was going to start busting down doors and tossing managers out on their asses. Alienating an entire office full of people and establishing myself as the pet of the boss’s spoiled nephew was not what I had in mind for my first day of work.
“It’s fine, Kage.” I leaned closer, so that only he could hear what I was saying. Well, he and possibly the blond girl Alicia, who was standing much too close for comfort. “I can work in a cubicle, I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do mind,” he said. “You’re working for me, and I don’t want any of these fuckers knowing my business.”
“Ahhh.” I was beginning to see his dilemma now. He wasn’t playing favorites; he was protecting his interests. I felt a little ashamed for misinterpreting his motives, and for thinking he was spoiled.
“Yeah, you sit out here in a cubicle, and whoever is nearby can hear every word you’re saying.” He speared Alicia with a hard glare, and she finally had enough sense to walk away. “I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just a little pissed because my uncle was supposed to get you an office. I asked him to. Maybe you could just use a cubicle for a while until I can arrange something different. Do you have a laptop?”
“In my room,” I said.
“You’ll need to use it for business, I guess. But stay on the hotel Wi-Fi, okay? Not the office network. It’s heavily monitored, so all of your embarrassing personal stuff on there…” He smiled mischievously. “Well, you get the idea.”
“Heavily monitored?” I gulped, feeling like I’d taken a job at the CIA rather than a Vegas hotel. “What makes you think I’ve got embarrassing things on my laptop?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
His smile was contagious, and I couldn’t help giving it right back to him. Of course, he was right. I did have embarrassing things on my laptop. Doesn’t everyone?
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he teased. “Anyway, you have fun getting settled in here with the natives. We’re just winging it, you and me, okay? I’ve never had an intern before, and you’ve never been an intern before, so let’s play it by ear. You figure out what you need to do your job, and I’ll make sure you get it even if I have to bust some heads. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough,” I said, still smiling.
“I’ll stop back by to get you for lunch, okay?” He looked down at his sweaty attire. “And I promise I’ll be clean.”
He left before I could reply, and I was left standing in a strange office, in front of a strange cubicle, surrounded by a bunch of strange people. I sat down in my chair and pulled out my cell phone to call Dr. Washburn. Getting some emergency advice was my first order of business.
“Dr. Washburn, I’m in deep shit.”
I heard the professor’s nasally chuckle on the other end of the line. “Hello to you, too, Mr. Atwood. What can I do for you?”
“I’m sitting in a cubicle,” I said, then dropped my voice, remembering Kage’s warning about being overheard. “I don’t know what to do, Dr. Washburn. I figured they’d tell me what to do, you know? Like an assignment or something. This is jacked up.”
Dr. Washburn chuckled again. “Calm down, Jamie. Think. You must realize this job you’ve accepted is largely an artistic endeavor. It’s not piecing together a car on an assembly line or making pre-prepped fast food burgers. You’re creating something from scratch. No one can tell you what to do, because you are the one who will be planning everything. You’re the expert. Do you understand?”