Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“That’s so strange,” Martha said. “Mr. White lays off staff constantly. I’ve never heard of him re-hiring someone. Does this have something to do with you?”
The intercom on the desk beeped. “Miss Adams. My office. Now.”
Martha gulped. “Just listen, nod your head, and tell him what he wants to hear. Okay?”
“I’ll be okay,” I said, smiling to reassure her.
When I moved through the publishing office, everyone had their heads down and only a few people glanced up at me. Walker was putting the things back on his desk with a dumbfounded expression.
I opened Mr. White’s door. “You asked to see-”
He was standing at the window overlooking the city. “Knock before you enter my office,” he said, not turning his back. He half turned when I didn’t move. “Step back out, knock, and wait until I ask for you to enter.”
I balled my fists, walked out, and knocked what I hoped was a sarcastic little rhythm. “May I enter?”
“Come in,” he called. He was still standing in the same place, broad shoulders silhouetted by the bright sunlight. He was quite the sight, and I found myself in a constant battle to remember he was like one of those poison frogs. No matter how brightly colored, pretty, and tempting to lick he might be—he was pure poison. Or was it venom? I always forgot which was which.
On that note, I also wondered why it seemed such a popular thing to warn people about. Were there really swarms of toad lickers out there who needed to be told not to lick the bright ones?
I took a seat in the chair across from his desk, raising my eyebrows as I waited. I knew Martha had told me not to speak, but I couldn’t help myself. Mr. White seemed to tickle every obstinate, feisty nerve in my brain. “Did you call me in here so you’d have an audience while you impressively scan the horizon?” I asked.
He waited long enough to tell me he was ignoring my comment. “I value your backbone, Miss Adams. But that mouth of yours needs to be tamed.”
I reared my head back, frowning. “Let me guess, you’re the one who is going to tame my mouth? That sounds awfully unprofessional, Mr. White.” God. I hated how even a relatively innocent sentence started to transform and feel more wicked when he was involved.
“I don’t bullshit,” he said simply. “I told you when I hired you yesterday, I plan to continue climbing up the corporate ladder, and I plan to do it quickly. I need good people if I’m going to succeed. I don’t have time to sugar coat or handhold. Anyone too weak to deal with me isn’t a good fit.”
I scoffed. Grudgingly, I could at least appreciate him being transparent. Even if I didn’t completely buy his explanation. He was trying to tell me he was only an ass because he was vetting people—trying to figure out who he could bring along for the ride. “Why do you care so much about ‘climbing the corporate ladder?’ Money? Is that all?”
He finally turned away from the window and moved to his desk. He picked up a paperweight and hefted it in his hand, studying it as if it might hold the answer to my question. “Only my closest friends have a right to that answer.”
“You have friends?” I blurted. Whoops.
He looked up sharply, but I thought I saw the shadow of amusement in his expression. “Believe it or not, I do.”
“Not,” I muttered.
“Your primary responsibility here, Miss Adams, is to serve as my filter. You’ll screen my emails, calls, and personal requests. I have a binder detailing exactly how to know which ones need my immediate attention, which ones can wait, and which ones can be ignored. I expect you to study that binder like it’s the Bible.”
“Is this a bad time to mention I haven’t ever studied the Bible? Is there a particular method, or-”
“I admire backbone, but I have no time for sass, Miss Adams.” Mr. White’s eyes were cold fires.
But you have time to stare out your window and play with paperweights on your desk? “Is there anything else?”
“Yes,” he said. “You’ll be my shadow. When I’m here, you’re here. You don’t leave until I do, and you will be here when I’m here. If I need an errand run, you’ll be the one I trust to run it. You’ll learn how to make sure everything is completed to my standards.”
“Alright,” I said. This time, I didn’t ask if there was anything else, because I was worried the man would pull more tasks out of his well-sculpted ass just to spite me. “Should I go start studying the binder?” I asked sweetly.
“Yes. I need to get ready for this afternoon.”
“What’s this afternoon?”
He shot me a warning look.
“You said I’m your shadow. Shouldn’t I know what you have planned?”