Page 3 of Power
I sit.
This is my first day, my firsthour, and the partner’s son has just ordered me to sit. Of course I’m going to do it. I’m uncomfortable with this level of scrutiny, though. Finn’s remarkable eyes are boring into me as if searching my very soul, while Owen is regarding me with a cooler glare.
“Archer!” A woman’s sharp voice rings out as the door to the office opens. “She isn’t yours.”
A middle-aged woman comes bustling over and grabs my elbow, hauling me to my feet and practically dragging me over to the door. “Keep your hands off the new staff.”
“I need a new assistant,” Archer says blithely.
“Not this one. Get your own.” She is a bulldog, practically barking this out to him. I stare at her in wonder that she could talk to them that way. She must be someone reasonably high up.
She shoves me through the door and slams it shut, letting go of me to march through the bullpen. “Don’t let those idiots intimidate you,” she says, her tone changing to a milder one. “They take a chance on every new girl who walks in here. I was hoping I would get to you first, but it’s like blood in the water.”
“That’s okay,” I whisper, looking back to see Archer glaring at us as we walk away before I look back at her. “Are you Ms. James?”
“Yes. You will report directly to me. Here’s your desk. Don’t let them put you off, and you don’t have to do anything they say. You work for me, okay, dear?”
I nod, taking in my desk, which is thankfully on the other side of the floor to Archer’s office. Although I didn’t expect to be this high up in the building. A few floors down would’ve suited me just fine.
“The chap from IT will be up soon to give you your log-ins, but for now, you can acquaint yourself with the admin pool when they arrive…” She gestures to the desks around me, which are currently empty. “…and there is a stack of folders there that need filing. Once you’re set up on the computer, come and find me. My office is over there. The tearoom is that one, and the toilets are that way.”
I nod, figuring that’s all I need to know right now. My heart is pounding less now that I’m away from the inspection of the three men, from whom I got the distinct impression were eyeing me up for something other than work. I’m not really sure what to do with that. I can’t report them, they haven’t done anything, and how bad would that look not only on my first day but one of the partner’s sons?
My hands shake slightly as I take in the enormity of what could’ve happened if Ms. James hadn’t come to my rescue. I was completely out of my depth.
Breathing in a few times to relax, I feel better when the rest of the admin pool starts to arrive, chatting and making me feel less alone. Fortunately, they all seem really nice and include me up to a point in their conversation.
“I’m Ricky,” one of them says, swishing her dark hair over her shoulder. “You want to know anything, come to me.” Her attitude is brisk, but she gives me a friendly smile.
“Thanks.”
“Did you get initiated yet?” a blonde woman named Trish snickers with a lusty gaze over at Archer’s now-closed office door.
“Uhm…”
“That means no,” Joel says, rolling his chair over to me and lowering his voice. “They like to intimidate the noobs, but don’t let it get to you.”
“Intimidate how?” I ask, figuring I need to know this stuff as much as I need to know how to log into my computer.
“By shagging you over the desk and seeing who you tell,” Trish says with a laugh, but I’m not sure if she’s joking.
“Seriously, don’t let them bother you. They are predators,” Ricky says, her face more serious than Trish’s, who still seems to be mooning after the men in the office.
“Thanks,” I murmur, even more scared now than I was earlier. What the hell is this place? What have I done coming here?
A few minutes later, after Joel wheels himself back to his desk, the IT guy shows up, and soon I’m swept up in new job learning, laughing and joking with the rest of the pool, having forgotten all about the three mysterious men, and the danger they represent.
* * *
Surprisingly quickly, lunchtime comes around.
“We have to go separately,” Ricky tells me. “Do you want to go first?”
“Sure,” I agree, not about to cause waves. It’s only half eleven, but with four of us, I suppose we have to start early if we go alone.
“Cafeteria is down three floors,” Joel says, covering his telephone mouthpiece with his hand briefly. “The lasagna is okay.”
“Thanks, I brought my own.” I hold up my lunch bag, which I whipped out of my oversized black handbag.
