Page 10 of Faking It With My New Boss

The receptionist looked at me with a confused expression. She glanced at her computer screen, then the papers on her desk, then back up at me. She obviously knew something wasn't right, but couldn't put her finger on it. So, I went with it.

“He isn't able to show me to his office himself, but he wants me to get in there as quickly as possible. He said there will be important information waiting for me there so I can get started on a project for him. He is eagerly anticipating my input as soon as possible. So, I would really appreciate it if you could point me in the right direction. Maybe you could show me around and help me to get comfortable. Help out the new girl a little.”

I wasn't outright lying. I didn't tell her I was the assistant that was hired. I didn't tell her I was there to be his assistant. I just also didn't go into any detail explaining why I was there at that particular moment. There was a little bit of moral ambiguity going on there, but I wasn't going to put too much thought into it right then. I was far too invested in not getting humiliated and fired within four minutes of getting my new job.

It took a few seconds, but finally the receptionist relented. She looked at the other woman and gave her an apologetic shrug.

“I'm sorry. There must have been a mistake.”

This did not go over well.

“She looked like she was about to start spitting fire,” I said that evening while Vanessa and I made dinner.

Vanessa laughed and I gave her a withering look.

“I'm sorry,” she said with her hands held up like she was trying to look innocent. “It's funny. I can't help it.”

“It's not funny. She was seriously furious. And she should have been. Somebody waltzed into the office that morning and stole her job out from under her. Me. I did that. And now somehow I went from being an interior designer dreaming of being a lawyer to an executive assistant.”

“There's nothing wrong with being an executive assistant,” my best friend said.

“No, there's not. But you have to admit it's not exactly on my career path. I took a bit of a detour here.” I groaned, my head dropping back as I relived the sheer embarrassment of all the morning's events. “I can't believe I did this. I am so beyond humiliated. As soon as he started talking about the last secretary and this event thing I'm supposed to be doing, I should have stopped him. I should have stopped him right there and said I was there to apply to be an interior designer. That I was not who he thought I was and I would see myself back to the waiting room.

And instead, I showed the man my portfolio. But that's another thing. Why the hell would he think I had a portfolio with me? How many people show up to be a secretary or an assistant with a portfolio? What would you even put in a portfolio for one of those positions?”

“Nicely typed letters? Day planner pages with all the to-do list tasks checked off? It depends on the industry, I guess,” Vanessa said.

“I just can't believe I was so influenced by the money. I had spent the morning already hating this guy without even knowing who he was. I closed an elevator door in his face. But then I willingly signed myself up to be his assistant because he flashed a nice salary and bonus in front of me.”

“Well, that was the whole reason you were going for the interior design position, anyway. You need money to pay for law school. It makes sense that you would want to grab an offer that good as soon as it came up.”

“By wantonly stealing it from somebody? Somebody who was standing right outside the office while I did it. It wasn't even like she had totally ghosted. I just happened to be there first, so he took me,” I said.

“I don't think this was a first-come, first-served situation,” Vanessa said. “He must have seen something in you that told him you were right for the position.”

“He said he was impressed by my portfolio, so maybe there's something about me that said I had the artistic slant he was looking for.” I was trying to justify it, but it wasn't working. I groaned again. “But who looks specifically for an artist when hiring an assistant? Unless they are an artist? Which clearly he is not.”

“Someone who wants an assistant to plan an event for him,” Vanessa said. “You said the pictures of the last few events were pretty elaborate. If he's supposed to come up with something close to that, maybe he needs help.”

“Oh, I can assure you he needs help. There isn't a creative or exuberant bone in that man's body. I can tell you that just from the few minutes we interacted today. And the other events were elaborate, but fairly generic. But here's the thing. What happens after this event? Assuming I can bring myself to actually go through with this, what about when the event is over? Am I supposed to just settle into being the secretary of this incredible jerk?”

“Maybe,” Vanessa said with a half-shrug. “It doesn't necessarily have to be so bad. And at least you know you're not going to have to make him coffee since he gets it for himself in the morning.”

And there I had it. Total justification for what was apparently my new career path.

Chapter Eight

Bryan

Just like the day before, I was in my gym clothes and sipping coffee on my way through the lobby when I got to the office the next morning. I nodded a good morning to the receptionist and headed toward the elevator. I'd only made it halfway across when I noticed Courtney scurrying through the lobby. A large box in her arms nearly covered her head and I almost laughed at the flowers sticking out of the top.

Clearly, she was ready to start settling into her office.

I got to the elevator first and stepped in. Part of me wanted to hit the button to close the doors, but I stopped myself. She was only a few steps away and I stood in the center, sipping my coffee as she rushed toward me. I wasn't sure if she even noticed it was me inside. When she looked up and our eyes met, I knew she hadn't.

The look on her face was pure exasperation. She hesitated, obviously expecting me to close the doors. When I lifted the cup to my lips again instead of reaching for the button, Courtney kept standing there looking at me. It was like we were stuck in a game of chicken, only I wasn't actually playing.

The time passed and the automatic trigger for the doors started them sliding. I lifted my eyebrows at Courtney and she lunged forward, hurrying to get in before she got stuck in them. They seemed to snip at her butt and she jumped a little, whipping around to glare at them. I grinned around the lip of my cup and hit the button for our floor.

---