Page 69 of Savage Bosses

“Oh we’re not getting out. This is processing,” she said with a note of boredom. “Naturally, transportation and processing happens off site, but the respective bosses still like coming into the office.” She pushed the button that snapped the elevator doors shut with finality.

Whatever or whoever on the sixteenth floor pissed Veronica off better wear a protective cup to their cock if I read the fuck off vibes from Veronica correctly.

“Seventeen is marketing,” she continued, as we passed the floor. “They make us look good.” The elevators opened. “This is us. There are five offices on the eighteenth floor. Three belong to the partners, Stefan Vasylovych Sydorenko, Omer Larousse, and Caronte Silvani. The fourth belongs to our research department head, John Michel, but he’s almost always on site.”

“He just has one office, not an entire floor?”

“He lets his people work remotely for the most part.” She shrugged. “John is down to earth. It’s probably why he’s up here and not down two floors below.”

We passed a board room with glass walls, plush black and gold carpeting, and a fireplace—a room where one cushioned the blow of bad news or celebrated good news in style. “You said five offices.” We were almost to the rear of the floor.

“Mr. Hijra’s is the fifth office.”

“Wow.” The office was bigger than the others, and surrounded by glass. The inner glass walls were frosted while large panels overlooked St. Charles Ave.

“I know right! All four corner offices have a great view but I swear, this has the best view,” Veronica said, standing beside me. “Come on, let’s get you situated.”

I followed Veronica out the room to my desk a few feet from Mr. Hijra’s office. Overwhelmed was an understatement, my palms were sweaty and my skin tingled with all the signs of imposter syndrome. Thank goodness Sloane talked me out of wearing a boring pants suit. Instead, I’m wearing a navy and silver A-line dress that hugged my curves and floated around my thighs.

The next three days pass without mishap. I spent them learning about Mr. Anik Hijra’s calendar, how he liked his coffee, and about Pentiko’s top clients. I admitted being a personal assistant was overwhelming especially since my last job was as a receptionist. “How do you remember everything?” I couldn’t mess up in my first week.

“Here.” Veronica opened her drawer, handing me a new binder. “Make notes of all the important stuff. I copied some shortcuts to get you started.”

“Thanks.” I nodded. “You must think I’m an intruder.”

Veronica wrinkled her nose. “I came from sales,” she confessed. “In truth, the partners took a chance on almost all of us in this building. They believe in developing skills. You’ll see.”

I wasn’t so sure. “Yes but—”

“Keep Mr. Hijra’s calendar tight and I can help with everything else until you find your footing.”

I nodded again.

“Tomorrow you start at your desk. I’m in a meeting with Mr. Silvani all morning.”

I blew out a shaky breath. “You think I’m ready?”

“More ready than I was two years ago. You’ll be fine, promise.”

I flipped through the binder, making notes of shortcuts and names of the employees in the various departments I’d met and which floor their offices were on. I read emails and apprised myself of any information pertaining to the new deal and its players. But so far it looked like the important meeting was taking place in my boss’s calendar.

“Is it odd that Mr. Hijra hasn’t come into the office?” Perhaps it was a good sign that I hadn’t met my new boss yet.

Veronica lowered her voice. “He took unexpected time off — not that he can’t do that, mind you — but it’s not like him. I suspect he won’t stay away much longer with the new Gulf line deal in play.”

Curiosity had gotten the best of me after he hadn’t shown up to work that first week and I’d searched the internet for photos of the partners and had only found a picture of Omer Larousse at a charity event.

“Oh! Before I forget —” Veronica handed me a sticky note that read ‘Boss Be Damned’.

“What is this?”

“It’s a site but more importantly, it's a chat for office assistants who want to vent or are looking for advice from others in the same position.”

I glanced at the piece of yellow paper, not sure if this was a test or not.

“No one uses their real name or posts info that can be traced back to their office. Speaking of which, you’ll need to create a user name.” She winked. “Something fun.”

“Okay,” I said, still not sure about venting about work online. “How do I find you?”

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