Page 42 of Dirty Rich Cinderella Story

“Honey, an executive assistant at this level either manages her boss or no one gets anything done.”

“Well, teach me to manage him, too, please,” I joke.

She winks. “I think you can handle him just fine.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks with yet another of her little wink moments about me and Cole, and I quickly say, “We shall see,” before I turn away, and head to my office where I gather the limited items I have that are my own.

By the time I’m walking back into the office, Maria has already found the temp service information. She hands me a name and number. “There’s a conference room off the lobby you can use for interviews or just bring them back here.”

I head back to Cole’s office and settle at the conference table, reliving that kiss, when my cell phone rings in my purse. I quickly pull it out to find Cat calling. “Hey, Cat.”

“How’s it going?”

“Is that you asking or your husband?”

“You know Cole?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Is that all I’m getting?”

“That’s all you’re getting,” I say. “Did you hear that Cole had to go to Houston?”

“No.” she says. “He just got here. Why?”

“A problem with the current management, but he seemed confident he could handle it. He’ll be back for the party, which apparently, I need a dress for. Any chance you’d have something I could borrow?”

“Of course,” she says. “But I’ll trade you. Read my newest chapters for any dress you choose.”

“I can’t wait to read your newest chapters, so that’s a winning deal for me.”

“Saturday morning?” she asks. “Here?”

“Yes,” I say. “Perfect.”

We disconnect and I grab the number of the temp service and use the company phone to dial out. Thirty minutes later, I have three interviews lined up and I move on to the case files, and there is a thrill that shoots through me. I’m really doing this. I’m back. I’m headed toward my goals and dreams and I love this job. I start reading and I lose track of time. I only stop when I’m forced to find a bathroom and a snack machine because a pastry and coffee all day isn’t cutting it.

I’m deep in research on the third of ten potential cases, typing out notes, when Maria pops her head in the door. “You going home soon?”

I glance at the five o’clock hour and then back at her. “I’m staying unless I’m not allowed in the building after hours,” I say, considering I have those interviews tomorrow and I’m only on my analysis of case number three.

“Honey, you may sleep here during trial prep,” she says. “If you order food, just alert security.”

“Will do,” I say, and no sooner does she depart than my cell phone rings again. I glance at the caller ID to find my mother. “Hey, honey,” she says when I answer. “How has your first day been?”

“It’s been an interesting day,” I say, because how else do you describe a day when your one night stand becomes your boss, to your mother?

“I can’t wait to hear about it,” she says. “Are you going to be home before I leave for work?”

“Not tonight,” I say. “I have tons of work to do.”

“I love hearing you say that.”

My brow furrows. “Hearing what?”

“You are thinking about you and your goals again, not fretting over me. It feels good for me and you. I’m proud of you. I love you. We’ll gossip about our jobs this weekend.”

We disconnect and I breathe out. She’s okay. Everything is finally moving to a better place. “There you are.”

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