Page 86 of Against The Rules

She assured me what we discussed on Saturday was off the record, but I already said too much. Way too much.

“I know, I know,” I tell Jane, one of the last clients I’m letting go. “I will miss you too. Of course I will.”

This time, at least it’s true.

“But no one knows my needs like you do,” she wails into the phone. I wince and hold it slightly away from ear.

“I’m so glad you think so, Jane. Listen, though, if you check your email, I just forwarded you a list of expectations you’ve had of me over the past few years, as long with the number and information on the PR firm my roommate works for. She’s amazing, her name is Presley, and I know you’ll love working with them. I’m sure they can find you a new assistant.”

She sniffles, and I hold back a laugh, rolling my eyes at her drama. Despite her ridiculousness, Jane’s one of my favorites, and I will probably miss these antics-filled calls.

Maybe.

“Well, I am proud of you,” she finally says. “Good for you for chasing your dreams.”

“Thank you.” A knock sounds at my door, scaring me straight off my perch on the couch and into the air like a rabbit. The doorbell follows, so loud I wince. “Jane, I have to let you go, there’s someone at the door.”

“Who is it?” she asks, nosey as always.

This time I do laugh, then peek out the front windows. “It’s a delivery truck. The guys are holding a huge box. They must have the wrong house.” I sigh. “Either way, I better let you go.”

“Alright. Can I call you later?”

“You have me until the end of the week,” I remind her for the tenth time. “Bye now.”

I hang up before she can ask me anything else, then open the door.

“Savannah Durand?” the guy holds out a clipboard.

“That’s me?”

“Sign here and we’ll set it up.”

“Set what up?”

“Whatever is in the box.” He shrugs.

“I didn’t order anything.”

He scratches his beard. “Check the order.” He gestures to the clipboard in my hands. “The name of whoever bought it might be on there. Not my problem. I just have to deliver it. You don’t want it? Take it up with them.”

I glance down, and my eyes widen.

Contents: A desk set w/ergonomic chair.

Name on card: Tyler Matthews

My heart squeezes a little.

“Everything in order?” the guy asks.

“Yeah. Yeah,” I say again, more enthusiastically.

“Okay, lady, just tell us where you want it.”

Dumbfounded, I lead them to my bedroom, where I shove my crappy Ikea desk out of the way, making room for whatever is in the box.

“White glove delivery,” one of the movers grunts.

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