It rings again and again. Becca answers quickly and confidently. She puts some people on hold, sends others through, switches others to voicemail, talks to Drew, finds out information and relays it back and forth. My head spins and my stomach is a pit of anxiety.
Maybe if I practice, I’ll get the hang of it. But, before I can ask, Becca moves on and starts talking about how to order supplies and snacks and beverages.
“Just keep the kitchen stocked or people get grumpy. The number’s in there.” She points to a fat rolodex full of contacts and their numbers.
An hour later, she leans back in her chair and stretches. “That’s a quick rundown, but you’ll catch on. It’s all pretty basic.”
My confused face must have finally registered with her because she tilts her head and asks, “Did I go too fast? Sorry, but the quicker I get this done, the sooner I can go back to my own department. I was just temporarily filling in here.” She lowers her voice and looks at me over the tortoiseshell rims of her glasses. “I’m not going to lie, Drew can be a handful and I’m not cut out to be his assistant. He kind of scares me. But, I’m sure you’ll be great!”
My eyes go wide. “Why does he scare you?”
“Look at him.”
My eyes move up to the glass window between us and I watch him talk on his phone. I already notice he has a habit of running a hand through his dark hair a lot. It gives him a sexy, disheveled look. And, don’t even get me started on his eyes. They’re like two sapphires the color of deep midnight, rimmed in onyx.
All of a sudden, he looks at me and my heart flutters. I look away fast. “He is attractive,” I admit. Especially with that light scruff on his lower face. It gives him an edgy, almost dangerous look. The man oozes sex appeal.
Becca gives me a strange look and shakes her head. “No, I mean he’s a beast. They don’t call him Drew the Devil for nothing. I don’t like dealing with such intense personalities. I’m much happier down in accounting crunching numbers and burning my candle.”
I feel my face go red. Why did I comment on his looks? How humiliating. “Who calls him the Devil?”
“He’s the king of hostile takeovers. So, a lot of people.”
“Oh.” I have no idea what to say. It’s too early to speak badly about my new boss and, to be honest, I don’t even know him. Yesterday, he seemed nice enough to hire me on the spot when I don’t have much experience. But, all this talk about beasts and devils makes my stomach churn again.
All of a sudden, I notice Becca start gathering up her things and panic fills me. “You’re leaving?” I ask, my voice rising an octave. I almost grab her arm in desperation.
“I told you. I have to get back down to my department.”
“But, I-I’m still not sure about so much.”
“”If you have any questions, ask Regina. She’s in the next office and is Michael’s assistant.”
The phone rings and my heart stops.
When it rings again, Becca nods at it and I reach for the receiver, scoop it up and say, “Mr. Carson’s office.” Someone asks for Drew. “Hold on, please.”
I look up in a panic and blink stupidly. “It’s for, um, Drew. Obviously.”
“Ask who it is.”
I suddenly realize that the person on the line could hear our exchange because I did not put him on hold. Oops. “Who’s calling? Okay, hang on.” I hit the hold button. “It’s Patrick Holden.”
“He’s in Drew’s club. They hang out together sometimes. So, get back on the line, hit transfer then Drew’s extension, 101, and ask if he wants Patrick.”
I release a breath and do what she says. When Drew’s deep voice answers, I think of velvet. So warm and soft. My skin tingles.
“Patrick Holden from your club is calling for you,” I say, sounding extremely awkward.
“Put him though,” Drew directs.
“Okay, one second, Mr. Carson.” I hear Drew sigh, like he’s annoyed, and I look to Becca for further guidance.
“Now go back to Patrick, hit transfer, 101 again and then the other transfer button.”
When the call goes through flawlessly, I give a tentative smile. Maybe I could do this.
“One other thing,” Becca says, and swings her macrame purse over a bony shoulder. “He hates being called Mr. Carson.”
“Oh!” I make a face. Then, why didn’t she tell me that two hours ago? I wonder.
“Good luck!” she says with a cheerful smile. It’s obvious that Becca can’t wait to get the hell out of here.
As Becca walks away, my nerves kick in and I tell myself to relax. I can do this. It’s my first day so everything is new and I’m a smart girl. I will figure it all out and do my best to make sure Mr. Carson- I mean, Drew- is happy.
It doesn’t take me long to realize that no matter what I do, Drew, in general, is not a happy person.
Ten minutes after Becca leaves me to fend for myself, I’m studying a thick binder full of notes about my job position when the worst case scenario happens.
Every line on my phone rings at once.
A surge of panic hits me, but I figure it is best to answer each call as quickly as possible and ask them to hold. Then, I can sort through them all and figure out who is important enough to put through.
“Mr. Car- I mean Drew Carson’s office, can you hold, please?”
I do this ten times and then stare at ten flashing lights. Okay, back to line one. “Thank you for holding. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Elliott,” a man says.
“Um, let me see if Drew is available. Oh, um, Elliott who, please?” I ask. Best to confirm right away.
“Elliott Jones.”
“Okay, thanks.” I put him back on hold. Then, I hit the intercom button and say, “Excuse me, Drew?”
My timid voice echoes throughout the entire 25th floor. Omigod. I must’ve hit the wrong button. Face flaming, I look up and see Drew staring at me. He quirks a dark brow. This is horrible. I can see him look down at his phone, waiting for me to try again.
But, now I’m freaked out so I just get up, walk over and open his door. “Hi, um, I have Elliott on line one for you,” Shit, what was his last name?
“Elliot who?” he calmly asks.
“Um.” Think, Ash. “Jones!” I blurt out, remembering in the nick of time.
“From where?”
I bit my lip. I have no idea, I want to say. Just take the stupid call. “One sec.” I hurry out and grab line one. “Where are you calling from?”
“San Diego.”
I throw him on hold again and race back to Drew’s doorway. “San Diego,” I tell him.
I think I see a flash of amusement pass through those dark blue eyes, but it’s super quick and I can’t be sure because now he looks all serious again.
“I mean, what company?”
My face falls. I nod and hold up a hand. “Oh, right. Hang on.”
I run back over and pick up the line again. I also notice that several other people waiting have hung up. “Mr. Jones, what company are you calling from?”
“Bismarck,” Elliott Jones informs me.
Again, I go back to Drew’s doorway. His chin rests on top of his laced fingers and he raises that dark brow again.