Page 25 of The Wrong Boss

I looked away, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

“Mr. Christianson’s word is final,” Kaia said, still in that hard voice. “I’m sorry, Alison.”

The woman stared at the head assistant, then crumpled in on herself. A few excruciating moments later, her things were vacated from the desk and she was in the elevator, escorted by the building’s security for her final exit.

Meat grinder, indeed. I would have to be at the top of my game if I wanted the paycheck, the benefits, and the stability that they would provide.

I glanced at Kaia, who stared at a spot on the floor, her jaw tense. When she felt my gaze, she looked up and schooled her expression. “As I was saying,” she stated, “this is your new desk.”

“Not the first time?” I guessed.

Her features softened. “It doesn’t get easier, no matter how many times it happens. Her mother was sick, you know. Shereally needed the job. She was a good kid. Always happy, but just...”

“Not good enough.”

Kaia pinched her lips and nodded. “You’ll be taking over her duties. Here’s your login for the computer.” She handed me a Post-it note. “I’ve already printed out the company’s travel SOP. Unfortunately, you’ll have to fix Alison’s mistakes, which might prove to be a challenge. We need to send Mr. Christianson to Los Angeles tomorrow morning. The plane’s wheels need to be on the ground by eight o’clock if he’s going to make his meeting. I’ve already tried to reschedule the meeting with no luck. The information has been emailed to your new work address. You have until the end of the day.”

My heart thumped. Not an easy task, especially judging by the thickness of the travel arrangement procedure document. I glanced at the first two pages. The man flew only on specific airlines, certain routes, and even had preferences for only a handful of seats he deigned to sit his expensive tush onto on any given plane.

Mr. Meat Grinder had exacting standards. I’d assumed we’d be reporting directly to Chuck Hearst, who was the focus of most of my research when I’d prepared for the interview—he was the one listed on the company’s website as the board’s director—but Kaia had said “Christianson.”

I’d have to do more digging if I was going to survive the week.

I straightened my spine and gave Kaia a nod. “No problem.”

She arched a brow. “I like the confidence.”

“I’m faking it,” I admitted.

A quick, barely-there smile flashed over her face. “Aren’t we all,” she replied dryly. “I’ll check in in a few hours.”

“Thanks.” I took a seat, then typed in the username and password Kaia had given me into their designated fields. While the screen loaded, I glanced at the succulent Alison had left behind. “It’s you and me against the world,” I told the plant, and I moved it to the corner of my desk closest to the big window nearby.

Then I got to work.

My first task was to read the SOP in detail. Then I read it again. Rummaging through the drawers that Alison had so carefully organized, I found a yellow highlighter and took note of the requirements that the boss laid out for travel. Then I reviewed the mistakes Alison had made—she’d chosen an airline on the Do Not Fly list, and she had him landing with just fifteen minutes to get from LAX to the meeting site, which, considering traffic, would put him between an hour and an hour and a half late.

A quick search told me that there were no flights available within the allowed parameters, which meant I had to get creative.

I picked up my phone, and a familiar voice answered on the third ring. “A little birdie told me you don’t work for Wentworth anymore. I’m not sure I should even be picking up the phone right now.”

“Hi, Deena. Word travels fast. It’s my first day at the new job.” I bit my lip. “I need a favor.”

“And here I thought you were calling to tell me that ColeChristianson is as delicious in person as he is in photos,” the travel agent replied with a dramatic sigh. I could just imagine her checking her nails with exaggerated casualness, a gleam in her eyes proclaiming the possession of some juicy gossip.

I froze for a second.ColeChristianson? My throat tightened, just as it always did when I heard the name of the man who had changed my life, then I shook my head to throw off the feeling. How many rabbit holes had I jumped down looking for him? I wasn’t going to find him in the big corner office at my new job, that was for sure. And I didn’t have time to get distracted when I was supposed to be fighting for my job—and my life—by booking a flight that may or may not have existed.

“I haven’t seen him yet,” I admitted. “But I have to get him on a plane to LAX first thing in the morning.”

“Hmm,” Deena replied, clearly enjoying herself. “You don’t work for Wentworth anymore, darling. And I don’t think I’m contracted with Hearst.”

“Please,” I begged. “The girl who messed up got fired this morning, and I’m pretty sure I won’t last the day if I don’t figure this flight out. They gave me her desk. The chair was still warm when I sat down.”

“Gross.”

I huffed a laugh and glanced around at the other employees on the assistant pool floor. A few of them chatted in quiet voices. Many of them typed away or talked on their phones, clearly uninterested in wasting any time. Kaia met my gaze over the top of her computer monitor, and I gave her a tight smile before ducking my head. “Please. I know you have connections, Deena. You’ve always been the best at what you do.”

“Keep going,” she crooned. “You know I respond well to flattery.”

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