Page 8 of Obsession

Jack clapped. “Oh, yeah. This is going to be fun to watch.”

“I’m his assistant. I’ll have this place running like a clock within three days.”

“I admire a woman with a good sense of humor.”

I swallowed and slapped a confident smile on my face. “You’ll see.”

Jack walked back around the desk and snapped his laptop closed. “I’ll make sure your favorite coffee is stocked.” He picked up the phone on the desk. “What is it?”

“I don’t drink it.”

He peered through his messy shag of blond hair. “Pardon?”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Yeah, I think you just said you don’t drink coffee, but I’m not quite sure.”

“No coffee. I limit myself to one Pepsi Max a day if I need a boost. Otherwise, I drink water.”

Jack picked up his iPad and tapped something on his screen, then he huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. We’ll see about that.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are.” He gave me an indulgent smile. “I promise I won’t say ‘I told you so’ tomorrow, Gracie.”

“Grace,” I corrected.

He laughed. “We’ll start with two cases of Pepsi Max.”

“Honestly, Mr. Hollister?—”

“Jack.”

My teeth clicked together. “Jack.”

He gave me a little salute and walked down a hallway, whistling the entire way. “Good night, Gracie.”

“I won’t need it,” I called out.

He just waved at me and kept walking. I glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Carson’s door and stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets. Absently, I played with my slim card holder, the only purse I needed most days, and crossed to the elevator.

I’d come here looking for a miracle, and I was walking away with a job. Not exactly how I’d imagined this day going. In fact, I didn’t remember the drive out to Boston—I’d been livid and shell-shocked, not to mention emotional.

I was running on exasperation at this point and hoped that it would at least get me home. Somehow I’d make this work. I wasn’t entirely sure how, but I’d think of something. When the elevator doors opened to the lobby, I caught George’s gaze.

He smiled. “No tears. That’s great!”

I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “No tears.” I’d cried enough for a year. I wasn’t going to let Blake Carson squeeze another tear out of my overused tear ducts. My heels clicked across the slate. “In fact, I guess I’m going to need a badge for tomorrow morning.”

His wispy eyebrows shot up. “Well, all right. That’s wonderful.” At the computer, his fingers were far nimbler. Inno time, he had a temporary badge printed out for me and instructions for the next day. Once I was entered into the system, I’d get a photo taken, as well as be microchipped.

Like a dog?

I frowned.

“It’s to be able to get in and out of the building. Mr. Carson takes security very seriously. Today was definitely an anomaly.”

“Good to know.”

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