Page 5 of The Boss and the Wedding Mess
Although I've been working for Blackthorn Data Solutions for three years now, I've never been late before, and I’m not breaking my streak today! I strip on the run, leaving a trail of clothes across the living room and down the hall. In the bathroom, I crank on the shower and hop in, taking my toothbrush with me. Whatever. Details don’t matter now. I wash myself lightning-fast with minimal effort and run to my bedroom wrapped in a towel.
"Hello bed. Sorry, I cheated on you last night. Won't happen again!"
Then I yank open the closets and dry myself off in front of the full-length mirror.
Well, I look pretty good - except for the remote control pattern on my back. Not good.
Underwear. Bra, nude pantyhose. Then a turquoise blouse, black skirt with a slight drape, and white sneakers. Done. I dash back to the bathroom, put on some deodorant and perfume, my jewelry, and stuff my makeup into a cosmetics bag. I brush my hair, wrap it into a tight bun (but with a small curl at the side of my forehead so I don't look too austere) and leave the bathroom.
I give a last sad look toward the coffee maker. "I'll need you again tomorrow!" I promise, then leave the apartment. And... almost close the door without taking my handbag and keys. Oh,and my phone. I run back inside. It's 8:04. If traffic is merciful, it is twenty minutes to the office. Thirty if the world insists on obeying speed limits.
I stuff everything I have into my bag and run off to the elevator that takes me from the seventh floor to the underground garage. At 8:06, I start the engine and speed off.
Naturally, I hit every red light and take advantage of the time to apply my makeup. Mascara. Eyeliner. Finally, a sweet peach stain on the lips—cute, matches my skin tone. The clock keeps ticking.
The minutes pass relentlessly on full digital display on the dash clock. At the next red light, it's already 8:27. Three more minutes. I won't make it on time.
My boss is really particular about punctuality. I hope he won't be mad at me. But then: a message from him. Damn!
He wants to know where I am.
Usually, I arrive at the office around 8:00 to make myself a cup of tea before the day starts.
"A request, Miss Waverley, could you kindly pick up the breakfast I ordered from the nice little café across the street and bring it to me? I have an important meeting at 9."
I text back right away: "Happy to! Leaving now."
Oh, this is perfect…
"Very good, I'll be a bit late today. Please prepare everything."
"Gladly." My heart. Oh God, my poor heart! How much luck can one person have? Fate seems to be on my side.
I rest my forehead against the steering wheel and ignore the angry honking from the driver behind me.
Take it easy.
I need a moment to catch my breath, and then I keep driving. It's just a few more miles to the café. Once there, I pick up the order and place the food on the back seat. It's packaged in pretty, sturdy practical boxes.
Now I just need to drive to the company and act as if I've been there the whole time.
Being the boss’s PA has perks. No one really questions where I am or where I’ve been. I've worked hard to earn this position and respect. In this industry, you can't show any weakness or uncertainty, otherwise you're an easy target. Especially as a woman.
Fourteen percent female staff. Two women in tech. The rest are secretaries or accounting. Outnumbered and underestimated, and that’s just sad.
So, it’s important to try to radiate presence and strength without coming across as snappy or catty. Unfortunately, people call you that quickly when you're a woman trying to assert yourself. In reality, I'm very insecure and quiet, but at work, I try to be someone I would like to be. A little more self-confidence would do me good. Fake it ‘til you make it and all that.
At 8:41, I slide into my parking spot. I swap my sneakers for uncomfortable black heels I fish from the passenger footwell. Over time, you get used to being three inches taller, but I prefer walking in flats. They’re so much more comfortable, but I have to suck it up as there's no way around it. The dress code requires it, and white sneakers just don't go with a business look.
I grab my handbag and go to the back seat to pick up the four boxes. I nudge the door shut with a skillful hip swing and lock the car with the remote.
Made it.
From now on, I'm setting two alarms. This won't happen to me again. I really don't want this stress again. What a lousy start to the day. But hey! I made it, and everything turned out fine in the end. Maybe this will even be the best day of my life? Who knows?
Chapter 2
Alexander
