Page 20 of His Temptation
One of the assistants turns to me. She looks to be in her thirties with long red hair pulled into a sophisticated ponytail.
“Kylie, right?” she says.
I finish pouring my coffee and turn her way. “Hi.” I smile. “Yes, my name is Kylie.”
“I’m Morgan. I work for Marissa, our CIO. I’m so sorry I haven’t gotten a chance to sneak over to you and introduce myself. I feel horrible.”
Wow, a woman chief information officer. I’m impressed. It’s refreshing to hear about these titles starting to go to women these days. It’s still not an even split, but I like to see the progress.
“This is Joey.” She points to a man who I think is the assistant to our COO, Carson. “And this is Paris.” She points to a beautiful blonde opposite her. “She’s Roy’s assistant.”
“Nice to meet you.” I wave awkwardly to them.
I’ve never had time for friends. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve lost all my social skills. Unless I’m putting on an act behind the counter for a customer, I don’t know how to talk to people for fun anymore. And to think, I was judging Mr. Monroe for not being able to have fun. I’m no better.
That is probably the most depressing thought I’ve ever had. Something needs to change immediately. I can’t be as dull and boring as Mr. Monroe.
“We were just talking about going down to the café down the street for lunch today. You should join us!” Morgan offers enthusiastically.
The rejection is almost out of my mouth when I realize I just told myself I need to learn how to have some fun. That is going to start today. I’ve got Benny seeing a therapist and decent money in my bank account. It’s about time I learn how to enjoy life again.
Instead of eating a packed lunch alone at my desk, scarfing it down within minutes so I’m at Mr. Monroe’s beck and call, I stand up and grab my purse.
“I’m going to be taking my full lunch today, Mr. Monroe,” I say as I watch him from the door of his office.
He looks up at me with his piercing eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. “I see. And what am I supposed to do if I need you for something and you’re gone for an hour?”
“I don’t know. You’re the CEO of a billion-dollar company. I think you can figure it out. All of your other VPs manage without their assistants while they take proper lunches. Or should I take it up with HR that my boss won’t let me take my hour lunch break, which I’m granted by law?”
He studies me, almost as if he’s waiting for me to take it back or tell him I’m kidding.
Bad news for you: Both of us lack any sense of humor. There will be no jokes. That’s why I’m doing this.
“Fine. Enjoy your lunch. You think you can maybe bring me something to eat on your way up, or is that too much to ask these days?”
“Yes, Mr. Monroe. My taking a lunch will not impact my job. I’ve gotten you your lunch every day for the last two months. It’s not going to change now. Just text me your order. We’re going to the café just next door.”
I head for the elevators with a new sense of empowerment. This is what it looks like to take back the freedom that’s been taken away from you. I’m not going to let him intimidate me for doing something that New York state law grants me. I think I’ll even stop by The Ripped Bodice after work and treat myself to a new book.
I settle in next to Morgan at the café, across from Paris and Joey. I listen in on their conversation as we wait for our food, afraid to insert myself where I may be unwanted. Joey starts to go on about how Carson accidentally messed up the cells in a spreadsheet he’d spent days working on and he had to go in and spend another five hours fixing it.
“Honestly, what would they do without us?” Paris exhales.
I realize it might be nice to have people I can commiserate with who know what it’s like to work for managers at such a successful business.
“Mr. Monroe said to finish this spreadsheet by the end of the day a couple of weeks ago. He told me at exactly five o’clock, when he was heading out for some drinks with a brunette who looks like she doesn’t eat.”
They all roll their eyes.
“Wow. What a dick,” Joey replies. “But … a very sexy dick.”
I look between all of them as their mouths turn up wickedly.
“What?” I ask.
“Oh, come on.” Morgan laughs. “You have to know that man is, like, the most eligible bachelor in New York. Every woman who wants a husband has applied for your job in hopes of getting close to him. He may be a dick, but he is seriously sexy.”
I don’t know why that all of a sudden irks me. I know these things. It’s the reason I have the job that I do. But hearing it out of the mouths of others, knowing just how sought after the man is, kind of pisses me off. It’s probably just because I don’t want anyone gunning for my job.
