Page 40 of Catfish

I look over at Laura. “I want the name of his new receptionist. I spoke with her briefly last week.”

Laura furrows her brows. “His receptionist?”

“Wade,” Em warns. “Now what?”

“Now what, what?” I slowly turn my attention to her, immediately pissed off that she’s been scolding me non-stop lately.

And in front of my fucking staff.

She narrows her eyes at me and crosses her legs, careful not to let anything slip off her small lap. “Don’t go dragging a poor, innocent girl into this.”

“She looked like she needed some excitement in her life. It’ll be fun.”

“Wade.”

“Emmy Lou," I mock. "Was I talking to you?" Her lips set in a hard line, and Laura sends her a nervous look, which has my focus locked on her. "Did you get that?"

Laura snaps her attention to me and curtly nods. “Yes.”

“I want it by two today.” I fold my hands on my desk and peer over at John. “I want to know their every move before it goes public.”

"You mean pull dirt, more whores, and some shady shit he might have done in college?" John asks.

I point a finger at him. “No.”

I don’t want he-said, she-said gossip. I want facts and his next move.

He frowns as he stands from his chair. “Alright, I’ll let you know if anything comes up later from his team.”

Laura stands with him, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I’ll get that information on the receptionist. Discreetly, of course.”

I nod, giving them permission to leave. Once the door clicks shut, I return my attention to my irritated assistant. “I want her fired.”

Em’s eyes widen. “What? Why?”

“She makes me nervous.”

“She’s not used to you being so—” She waves a dainty hand in the air. “—asshole.”

I raise a brow. “I’m always like this. I asked her to get a name for me, not to get on a rooftop and off somebody.”

“She’s good at what she does,” Em retorts, pulling papers off my desk and arranging them into her binder.

“Which is?”

“She...she’s nice to the staff and—”

"I don't want Mother Teresa working for me. I want a fucking person who can handle a simple task without looking at me like I just asked her to kill a kitten." Emmy releases a harsh breath, exasperated as all hell with me, which is what she gets for "momming" me all week.

“Fine. I’ll get rid of her by the end of the day.”

“But not before I get that receptionist’s number.”

“So, what’s the plan?” She leans back, cocking her head to the side. “What are you going to do to the poor girl?”

“I’m going to hire her as a double agent.”

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