Page 113 of The One I Need
Her eyes grow wide. “You will?”
“Of course,” I say. “I forget to take notes, which means I’ll remember nothing. So I’ll need you to be my memory.”
“Got it, boss.” She turns and leaves my office, a little skip to her step.
I smile as I take my phone out to send the selfie to Oliver. It’s seven in the morning in Rolling Hills, and I’m guessing he’s awake. It is football season, after all.
Oliver: Look at my wife, hydrating all on her own.
Izzy: You taught me well. How’d you sleep?
Oliver: Do you want the truth, or do you want me to lie?
Izzy: Depends what you want me to do when you ask me the question right back.
Oliver: Truth it is. Slept like shit. I didn’t realize how quickly I got used to your snores.
Izzy: Oliver Michael Price! I do not snore, and you know it.
Oliver: No. But I figured it was a less pathetic thing to say than I miss waking up with my arms around you.
Izzy: Not pathetic. At all. I miss those arms. And other things…
Oliver: How many more days?
Izzy: Too many to count.
Oliver: FaceTime date tonight?
Izzy: You know it.
Oliver: Wear the T-shirt. Just the T-shirt.
Izzy: Aye aye captain.
“I know what that smile means. Someone just got a message from her husband.”
I look up and smile at Bridget as she comes and has a seat in front of my desk. Yes, I got Bridget back. It was my first order of business.
Well, it was my first hire. Or re-hire. Not sure how we’re classifying it. Either way, she was the first person I officially put on board for Left for Love: London 2.0. My first actual act of business was officially firing Edwin, his dickweed son, and anyone who I found out spread rumors or pictures of Bridget. It’s good having friends in the IT department.
“You would be correct,” I say, setting my phone down.
“Juliet looks excited,” Bridget says. “Did she finally not call you ma’am?”
“Only once.”
“She’s getting there.”
“She’s a good girl,” I say. “I’m glad she agreed to stay on.”
Juliet was Edwin’s assistant. Though from what I’ve heard from her, Bridget, and a few others who were thankful that I was coming in and cleaning house, Edwin treated her like crap. Yes, I might have her get me food and coffee from time to time, but I need her to help me be successful. I need her in meetings and knowing the ins-and-outs. I learned long ago you can be good on your own, but a good assistant makes you elite. Apparently Edwin never got that memo. Turns out he didn’t get a lot of them.
“She’s just one example of the difference in morale,” Bridget says. “It’s amazing the shift in energy in this place.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, probably for the hundredth time since I showed up on Bridget’s doorstep asking her to come back. “I wish Hazel and I knew. Or that we didn’t get faked out by him. On paper, and in every meeting, he seemed like the right guy.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Bridget said. “Turns out he’s fooled a lot of people over the years. Or so we’re coming to learn.”
