Page 7 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

She mumbles what sounds like ‘I guessed as much’ and leaves the office. I grit my teeth and stare at the door for a few seconds after she shuts it.

I should call Mrs. Chen in Human Resources right now. There must be a reasonable explanation for why she hired Chloe that I’m simply not seeing yet. But I’m sure Mrs. Chen will gripe as she always does; her tightly knit frown never fails to appear whenever I ask her to look for another Assistant. When she does complain, I tell her I’ll interview as many candidates as needed until I find the right fit. But frustratingly, each subsequent Assistant is worse than the last.

I’ll need help sorting through these proposals to determine which is best to present to Nexus. I pick up the first one and glance through it, only to find that Dianne had the audacity to submit them in pen to paper form, labeling them as drafts. Thankfully, the accompanying slides were printed and not as dreadful as the scribbled notes. But, as luck would have it, she only submitted physical copies. Who knows where the digital files are.

She claimed exhaustion for her oversight and delay. That was the last time I saw her. The Assistants before her weren’t any better; they’d either forget important details or quit when they couldn't keep up with my standards of excellence.

Just then, the door swings open again. Chloe walks in with a coffee cup in her hand. I drop the sketches on the desk and motion her to come closer.

“Black, as you requested.”

“Glad you could find the coffeemaker,” I say, not lifting my gaze from the sheets of paper in front of me.

From the corner of my eye, I see her stretch her hand holding the coffee cup in my direction. I pause my studying of the sketches to reach for it, but as my fingers search the table where I assumed she placed the cup, I realize it isn’t there. I lift my head, and just as my finger connects with the coffee cup, she releases her grip. In a moment of horror, my eyes widen, and she hastily scrambles to catch the cup before it spills.

But it’s too late.

“NO!” I scream, coffee sloshing over the rim, the dark brown liquid pouring over the documents. I stare as the crisp, white pages turn soggy brown.

“Oh, Mr. Andrews, I’m so sorry!” Chloe gasps as she attempts to clean up the mess she has made.

I feel a spitball of rage rising in my throat, but I manage to choke it back. This can’t be happening. Two strikes in one day? This is a disaster.

“Get out,” I roar, my voice echoing in the room. The sound seems to snap Chloe out of her panic. She jumps back, her eyes wide with fear.

“But the documents…” she stammers. “I can work on them again. I’ll retype and have the reprinted copies sent to you.”

“Don’t worry about the documents,” I retort, already reaching for my phone. “Just leave.”

I grab my phone and dial Mrs. Chen’s number.

“Hello, Mr. Andrews,” she greets.

“HR,” I growl into the receiver. “Get me a new Assistant and make it fast.”

Chloe doesn’t leave. She stands there with the wet sketches dripping in her hands, trying to salvage what she can. The mere sight of her with the soggy sheets infuriates me further.

“Mr. Andrews?” Mrs. Chen says over the phone.

“Who was the second-best candidate? Give her a call and have her come in. Offer a ten percent bonus if she can get here within the hour.”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Andrews, Chloe was the only applicant for the position.”

Only applicant? What kind of a joke is this?

“There has to be someone else,” I demand.

“I’ve gone through the physical and virtual mailboxes. There are no other applications.”

“How is that possible?”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Unless you’re willing to advertise the position again and—”

“Never mind, Mrs. Chen.” I hang up.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Andrews. It was an honest mistake.”

“A clumsy mistake. Do I need to pick your outfits and teach you vocabulary at the same time?”

---