Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
I pinched the bridge of my nose and scooted to the edge of the chair. “Let me get this straight. I was hired to be your assistant, but you’re leaving and you want me to take your position.”
“Correct.”
“And this”—I spread my arms wide to encompass the space, which was roughly the size of my entire apartment…I mean, flat—“would be my office.”
“Correct again.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t point this out, but it seems like a leap to go from assisting an assistant to…this. Like a mega fast-pass.”
She chuckled. “I understand, but that’s what made you the perfect choice for the job. According to your CV—”
“What’s a CV?”
“Your résumé,” Julia said with a smile. “We call it a CV in the UK, and yours is quite impressive. As I was saying, according to your references and our online correspondence, you’re a highly organized individual with a near photographic memory who takes direction well, can lead a team when necessary, and has experience in dealing with strong personalities.”
Oh, fuck. Did I say all that? Shit. That wasn’t me. That was my overly enthusiastic referral from Winnie’s brother-in-law. Sure, I’d asked Milo to make me sound like a rock star, but I hadn’t meant Mick Jagger, for fuck’s sake. What the hell had I gotten myself into?
This was bad.
Very bad.
It was one thing to find yourself without a life preserver in the deep end of the pool and another to be stranded in the middle of the ocean. I had an ominous feeling this job didn’t require filing, photocopying, or coffee-making skills. Worse…I wasn’t going to be able to fake my way through this.
I cleared my throat and pursed my lips, unsure where to begin. “Ms. Wells.”
“Julia.”
“Julia. Um, I’m confused. I need this job and I’m willing to learn, but I was under the impression that I’d be working for you,” I said, enunciating every word.
“And you will be. For two months. Six weeks longer than I assumed we’d have together. Plenty of time for you to acclimate. First things first. We’ll go over the upcoming schedule, and I’ll brief you on the Mint and Cooperton acquisition. You’ll need to meet our legal staff, and perhaps a conference with Sanjay is in order. He’s a master at analytics and spreadsheets, and whilst his team is quite talented, he and I confer daily as I’m the gatekeeper of sorts to Mr. Horsham…after his secretary, Bernadette. Brush off your maths skills—you’ll use them more than you’d think! More coffee?”
Maths? Like math, plural? Gulp. Legal staff, analytics, spreadsheets… Double gulp.
I glanced at my untouched cup and shook my head. “No, thank you.”
She smiled, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You’ll want to take notes when I introduce you around. There’s a particular hierarchy at play. Mr. Horsham is an extremely busy man. No one is allowed in his domain unless it’s cleared by Bernadette. There’s always an overzealous salesperson, engineer, or barrister who’s positive they have vital information for Mr. Horsham, and perhaps that’s true, but they still must go through the proper channels. If one is in the midst of documenting a multibillion-pound transaction, one can’t afford to have any interruptions or—”
I jumped from my chair and spun to face her with my arms raised. “Multibillion? Wait. I-I can’t.”
She cocked her head curiously. “You can’t…what?”
I paced to the window, blowing out a defeated breath as I turned to face her. “I have a confession.”
“Oh, dear.” Julia steepled her manicured fingers over her tea cup.
“Yeah…that sums it up. Listen, I might have…exaggerated some of my capabilities. I’m not a math guy or—”
She sighed in relief and chuckled. “That’s not a worry. You’ll learn.”
“I’m not totally organized either,” I added, raking my teeth over my bottom lip.
“Oh?”
“And…my memory is average. Sometimes it’s a little sucky.”
Her face fell. “I see.”
“Yeah, I sort of fudged my way in the door and I’m excited to be here and all, but I thought the job title involved making coffee and running errands for you. Not for a guy who does billion-dollar deals.”
“Pounds, not dollars,” she corrected distractedly. “Did you really move halfway across the globe to pour coffee?”
I offered a wobbly smile and shrugged. “Well…yes. The salary was too good to be true. I guess I know why now.”
“Interesting.”
“Right. Look, I’m sorry I wasted your time, but I’m not your guy. Thing is, I do need a job, so if you have any openings whatsoever, I’m willing to learn. Mail room, errand guy, or an actual assistant to an assistant gig…” I grinned, hoping to lighten the mood I’d killed with my truth bomb. “I’m great at research. If that helps?”
Julia didn’t reply immediately. She swiveled in her chair toward the wall of windows and stared out as if deep in thought. I wondered if this was a polite dismissal, British-style. No doubt I deserved to get my ass handed to me, so I should have been relieved that she didn’t call security and order them to toss me out with the trash. The silence was grating, though.