Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
The door swung open, a very gorgeous but pissed off looking Lena filling out the frame. She was a good four inches taller than me, her long, lean legs stretching beneath the silk dress she wore, her feet bare and toes painted the most shimmery color of coral.
“You called a car?” she snapped, shoving past me, her leather makeup bag tucked under her arm. “Why the hell would you do that?”
Because Weston wanted me to.
“I assumed you had a breakfast event or meeting to attend,” I explained, spinning as I watched her shove her makeup into her Louis Vuitton overnight bag.
She scoffed, the motion making her perfectly wavy blonde hair tremble over her shoulders. “Sometimes I have no idea why Weston still employees you.” She zipped up the bag, looping her arm through the wide straps while she slipped her feet into her cream-colored pumps. “Assuming things like you do is a real hinderance.” She pursed her lips at me, a perfectly groomed eyebrow arching my direction. “I’ve mentioned it once or twice,” she said, surveying my outfit like she was a judge on some fashion show. “You should be careful. Another slipup like this and he’ll fire you so fast you won’t even be able to get a job cleaning apartments.”
Does she think all I do for Weston is clean? What the actual fuck?
I straightened my spine, plastering a sickly sweet smile on my face as I reached for the bedroom door. “Mr. Rutherford has me do a plethora of different tasks,” I explained as I held the door open for her. “Whether that be setting meetings, organizing his schedule, or getting rid of a toxic stain…” I made sure to eye her for emphasis on that one. “I ensure it all gets done. Anything to make his life a little easier.”
Lena’s mouth fell open, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at me. “You’re done,” she said under her breath, glaring at me as she shoved past me, stomping toward the front door.
I rolled my eyes. She wasn’t entirely wrong—I was so done with dealing with her bullshit. She talked to me like a piece of garbage stuck to her four-thousand-dollar shoes. Not that I was special or anything—she spoke to everyone who didn’t have an offshore bank account like that. I seriously never understood what Weston saw in her.
Easy.
She was easy. No strings and with a commonality when it came to the business world and where those paths crossed. He didn’t have to work to fit her into his life, didn’t have to give an explanation of why they were kind-of together, and no one blinked twice when she was photographed next to him.
Unlike me, who constantly showed up in pictures trailing behind him like his favorite piece of luggage. Not that Weston had ever made me feel as such, but the reporters loved to use the shots that made me look that way.
The front door slammed, snapping me out of my spiral of thoughts. I blew out a tight breath, and shoved all those emotions down.
Finally, now I could start my actual job. One that now included a bright and shiny title as the newest head of marketing at Weston’s Raleigh firm.
After two hours of responding to emails with our overseas clients, I made my way to the conference room to approve the breakfast spread before calling my staff in for a morning meeting. It was my first official day taking over the marketing firm, but most of Weston’s employees were familiar with me from when he purchased it.
“Good morning, everyone,” I said once they were seated at the long oval-shaped table set up in the conference room. “Please feel free to dig into the food and coffee, and then we’ll get down to business.”
“Really?” Jake asked. “Weston usually makes us wait until the meeting is over to eat.”
I smiled from where I stood at the head of the table, my coffee already steaming in front of me. I reached for a mocha muffin and took a seat. “Really,” I said after taking a huge bite. “Who wants to talk business on an empty stomach?”
There was a round of laughter, followed by a frenzy of movement while everyone filled their small breakfast plates. After they’d all gotten a chance to eat, I cued up my laptop and connected it with the projector screen behind me.
I pulled up a brand image and pointed at it. “Before we get into this,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I wanted to officially thank you all for being on my team. Most of you known me as Mr. Rutherford’s assistant, but I’m excited to start this new role as I take over the marketing firm. I want this transition to be seamless, and if any of you have any questions at all, my door is always open.”