“How you fit it in is up to you,” I say.
“But my job is to assist Michael, so it’s not just up to me, is it? Is he happy with help just twenty hours a week?”
“He will be,” I say. Twenty hours of her time will be better than nothing from Michael’s point of view.
“And I’m not doing it for the same salary as the tea shop. Apart from anything else, it’s just a short-term thing and I don’t get to sing show tunes during my shift—”
“On the contrary, I insist you sing show tunes while in the office.”
A small smile curls around her mouth. “I want a monthly amount equivalent to fifty thousand a year, prorated for twenty hours a week,” she blurts. “I know it’s a lot, but you need me on this project—you said it yourself. And fifty thousand isn’t so much if you look at how much you’re investing in—”
“Done,” I say.
She covers her mouth with her hand like she’s afraid if she says anything else, I might change my mind. But I won’t. I would have paid more.
I stand. “Let me show you to your desk.”
“My desk?” she asks.
“It’s right next to mine.” I had Michael and Molly set it up yesterday after I offered Kate the job. I knew she’d accept eventually.
“Am I still in the running for the guest relations job when the hotel opens?” she asks from behind me as I head out of the boardroom and back into the office.
“Yes. That job is yours if you want it, so long as you’re prepared to do the training.”
“I am,” she says.
I don’t know what changed her mind, and mostly I don’t care. I’m just pleased she’s here now, a smile on her face rather than the scowl I’d gotten a little too accustomed to seeing lately.
“Michael, Molly, Kate’s joining the team as Michael’s assistant. Kate, this is your desk.”
“You have the desk ready?” she asks. “Just in case…what?”
“In case…this,” I say. She turns to look at me and I can’t place her expression but I feel it deep in my gut. It’s part gratitude, part incredulity, and I have to fight the instinct to circle my arms around her waist and pull her to me.
She heads to the desk, circling it, like it might bite her if she gets too close. “So no one else sits here?” she asks.
“We set it up for you,” Michael says. “Vincent said you’d be joining us.”
She presses her finger down on the hole punch and flips open the laptop. “The laptop. Is that mine?”
“Yes,” Michael says. “It’s networked to ours so we can easily share files.”
She nods. “And I’ll come into work here. Every day.”
“So long as you do your job, I don’t mind what hours you keep,” I say. “Bear in mind, you might have to have meetings in London with Stella or the project manager.”
She freezes. “I’d prefer to stay on-site.”
“You don’t like London?” Maybe yesterday wasn’t a one-off. Maybe she isn’t able to leave Crompton because of her anxiety.
She clears her throat. “I think it’s better to have me here. The house is my focus. This is where I should be.”
She’s not wrong, but there’s more to her answer than that.
“Make it work,” I say.
“I will,” she replies, and I believe her. With her passion for Crompton, her clarity and focus on the details as well as ability to communicate with me so …well, so clearly, it’s the perfect recipe for getting the Crompton renovation completed on time.