Page 6 of Fake Out

He’s calling at me through his office’s open doorway, not even bothering to get up and come talk to me.

“Sure, Isaac,” I reply, trying to sound enthusiastic.

I get up and make sure the espresso machine has everything it needs. If I remember correctly, Louis likes oat milk lattes.

Turns out, there’s not much time left to prepare. The star basketball player walks into our office, the air around him crackling with energy. Louis’ presence is magnetic, and I’m excited just having him here.

“Hi, Louis. Welcome! Isaac will be with you shortly.” I offer him a warm smile.

“Thank you, Maria.” He flashes a charming grin in return before settling into one of the chairs in the waiting area.

I won’t be correcting him on my name. Nope. It’s not like it matters, anyway. He probably thinks I’m an intern here.

Leaving Louis waiting, I step into Isaac’s office. “Louis is here and ready for his meeting.”

“Take care of him, will you?” he responds, barely glancing up from his screen.

My heart flips at his words. Is he really telling me to take the meeting? After two years of assisting and never taking any reins myself, this might be the big break I’ve been waiting for.

“Of course.” I stand a little taller. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll report back to you with notes.”

He looks up, blinking me into focus. “What are you talking about?”

I stare at him for a long moment. Are we speaking different languages here? “I’ll take notes during the meeting.”

His eyebrows raise. “I’m not telling you to lead the meeting. I’m telling you to get him a drink.”

My mouth drops. “Oh.”

“You seriously thought I asked you to deal with one of our best clients?” He chuckles.

All I can do is stand stock-still, my face burning with embarrassment. The excitement I felt moments ago crumbles into hurt and anger.

Maybe I really am the idiot Isaac takes me for. After all, for some ridiculous reason, I thought he was finally giving me a chance.

“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ll get him a drink.”

Blinking back tears — I’d rather die than cry at work — I make Louis his latte and then return to my desk. Isaac emerges, the perfect display of arrogance, greets Louis and suggests they have their meeting over lunch.

I sit there, watching them stride down the hallway, feeling like the walls are closing in on me. What am I doing here? Why am I forcing myself to live through such misery?

Screw this.

I’m not putting up with this kind of treatment anymore. We’re ending this.

Today.

With every step back toward Isaac’s office, my resolve strengthens. I need to prove to him that I’m more than just an errand girl, that I can handle real responsibility. And if he won’t give me a chance, maybe it’s time for me to find someone who will.

Inside Isaac’s office, I take a seat, planting myself firmly in the line of sight of the door. As I wait, I run through what I want to say in my head, trying to find the perfect words to make him understand how serious I am.

I don’t even realize how much time has gone by until I hear a familiar voice. Isaac is striding down the hallway, talking on his phone. My heart races, knowing the moment of truth is drawing near.

“I’ll send the contract over today.” Isaac opens the door. “Good doing business with you, man.”

I clear my throat loudly, and he stops walking. “What are you doing here?”

I stand up, keeping my posture straight and my chin high. “We need to talk.”

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