Page 2 of (Not So) Mad About You

“Is looking like cold death preferable?” asked Alli. “I mean, I suppose I could take another cold shower, if that’s what you’re after. But I didn’t realize we had a ‘not looking like warm death’ rule in the company handbook.”

“You know what I mean. And you didn’t answer the question. What time did you get out of here?”

“Gone midnight,” Alli said sharply. “But the Morgensternreport is finished and I’ll be meeting with Halen-Price after lunch.”

“Impressive,” Darren admitted. “Killer diligence, I suppose I shouldn’t complain about that.”

“Since when have I given you anything to complain about?” Alli asked.

He grinned at her. “You’re a go-getter, Al. And my best hire. I just don’t want you burning yourself out, that’s all. I don’t know what we’d do around here without you.”

“It’s called having a work ethic, and I won’t be burning out.” She took a gulp of her coffee and felt a twinge of sourness in her stomach as it went down.

“Alrighty then, I’ll leave you to it. Keep me updated on the Halen-Price meeting. I saw Jim Halen at the club last night, he won’t be coming in himself. He’ll send an underling to get the details, so no need to go over the top, just fill whoever it is in and let them go running back to report.”

Alli felt a bubbling of anger in her stomach. Underling. After all the work she’d put in, the man himself wasn’t even going to bother to turn up. “Right,” was all she said. After all, Darren was her boss.

He grinned at her again and disappeared out the door.

Her boss and perhaps her friend. If pushed, Alli would say that he was, if only because she couldn’t think of anyone else that could hold the title. Not that friends were important in her world. She’d have time for that stuff later if she ever decided she wanted some.

She took another mouthful of coffee, felt the same sour spike in her stomach, and ditched the half-full cup in the bin. Little Miss Assistant could clear that up. That stupid barista had probably forgotten to put oat milk in. The regular stuff always gave her a stomachache.

Alli’s attention went back to her computer and her day really started.

THE UNDERLING, AS Alli thought of him, was powerfully fragrant in a way that made her nose itch. He was impeccably dressed and shod, it was just the cologne that was letting him down. He may well have cracked the bottle open over his head and stood under it like a shower.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to imagine him in the shower, and came up cold. She tried every now and again, just to see if she could feel those hot, spiky feelings that you were supposed to feel. But she never did. There was probably something wrong with her, she knew that, but she’d never admit it. Never admit that even the thought of what was an objectively attractive man naked did nothing at all for her.

“What if we change the font?” he asked now, looking up from the screen.

“As I said, the font used has tested well with young audiences, which is what your firm is really looking to target.”

He looked back at his screen, considering this.

Seriously. This was supposed to be a big meeting. The kind of meeting that got contracts signed and her name on the right people’s lips. Not a nit-picking ‘we can’t decide on a font’ kind of meeting.

“And if we center these images?” he asked, pointing at the two images that graced the advertising materials.

“You’ll throw off the entire rest of the design,” Alli said, cooler now, trying to keep her patience like she was talking to a toddler.

“Yes, but I do think it would look better,” the Underling said.

Alli gritted her teeth. “It’s not possible.” His boss had already approved the ad material. She didn’t know what the hell was happening here now. She did know that her stomach was sour after lunch and she was starting to feel the familiar ache in the back of her neck and the warmth rising to her cheeks.

“I thought your job was to make these things possible,” Underling said, looking directly at her.

Which was really just about enough.

“My job is to get contracts signed,” Alli said through gritted teeth.

“Once your client is satisfied,” said Underling.

“My client, presumably your distant boss, was very satisfied at our last meeting.” Her blood was starting to boil, her teeth were hurting from being gritted.

“Yes, but—”

“Enough,” Alli said, getting up. “I’m happy to discuss details with people who are qualified to make decisions. I’m not sitting around talking about fonts with a glorified secretary. Tell Mr. Halen that I’ll set up a meeting with him directly and in the meantime I’ll have a copy of the marketing materials couriered over to him personally.”

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