“Bismarck.”
He looks away, sighs. “Do you know what he wants?”
I want to cry. Literally, burst into tears, but I bite the inside of my mouth and force myself to hold it together. I hate looking stupid and incompetent. “I can find out.” I turn back around and my heels click loudly as I run back over to the phone which by now is ringing again.
“Mr. Jones, can you tell me what this call is in regards to?”
“Toner.”
I frown. Huh? “I’m sorry?”
“I have a great deal to offer Mr. Carson on toner.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I’m sure Drew would want to hear about a great deal so I rush back, now out of breath, and say, “He has a great deal for you on toner.”
Drew lets an arm drop to his desk and slides his face into his palm. “Toner?” he asks blankly.
I nod.
“Why would I give a shit about toner?”
I swallow hard. “Because it’s a good deal?” I reply weakly.
He shakes his head and looks at me like I’m the dumbest human being alive. Then, his direct line rings and he swipes it up. “Carson,” he says.
Taking that as a dismissal, I walk back over to my desk and see that every single person has hung up. Including Elliott Jones from Bismarck.
I google “Elliott Jones, San Diego, Bismarck.”
It’s a company that sells office supplies.
Next, I google “toner.”
It’s ink for copy machines.
Oh, for the love of all that is holy. My eyes slide shut. I just wasted ten minutes on a sales call. No wonder he thinks I’m an idiot.
I look down at my computer and see it’s almost noon. Maybe I can leave for lunch and just never come back.
At this point, it seems like the best thing to do.
Chapter Twelve
Drew
My stomach growls and I look down at my Rolex Daytona and see it’s after one o’clock in the afternoon. I should grab something to eat before my conference call in an hour. I stand up, button my suit jacket and grab my phone.
I open my office door and abruptly stop when Ashley looks up at me. For the past two hours, anyone of importance has been calling me on my direct line. According to everyone, “the new girl keeps leaving me on hold.”
“Did Becca show you how to use the phone?” I ask.
She scrunches her nose and it’s pretty much the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
“Sort of,” she says, and gives me a crooked smile.
Adorable or not, though, I need my assistant to be thoroughly efficient. “Well, I sort of have a very important conference call in an hour. I’m going to need you to make sure we’re all connected and no one’s left on hold.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to grab lunch. If anyone asks, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” When I start to walk away, she clears her throat.
“Drew?”
The sound of my name on her lips makes my heart hitch in my throat. Slowly, I turn and see her looking at me with inquisitive eyes.
“What time do I go to lunch?” she asks.
“You’re supposed to go 12-12:30.”
She looks at the clock. “Oh,” she says.
With a sigh, I turn and walk out the main glass doors.
Either Becca did a shitty job training this girl or she’s just naturally bad at everything.
Except, she isn’t, I think, and step onto the elevator. She’s actually damn good at making me want to shove my hands under her skirt and explore what’s underneath.
I step out of the elevator and realize I don’t have enough time to leave the building so I wander down to the cafeteria on the second-level atrium. I grab a sandwich and pause. I grab three more, two different salads, a couple fresh fruit bowls and a hummus plate. Then, for good measure, I throw in a veggie wrap.
I pay the cashier and have her put it all in a bag. Then, I head back up to the office.
When I walk back through the glass doors, I see Ashley studying the assistant manual. I stop beside her desk and set the bag down. “I’m not sure what you like,” I say, my voice a little gruff.
She looks at the bag and smiles. “For me?”
“Pick whatever looks good,” I tell her.
She scoots closer to reach inside the bag and I can smell her perfume. It’s some powdery-vanilla scent and it goes straight into my nose and right down to my dick. Christ. No good deed goes unpunished.
“Ooh, can I have the veggie wrap?”
I’ve never seen anyone look so excited over a cafeteria wrap of soggy vegetables. “All yours,” I say.
“Oh, wait, there’s hummus.”
I reach into the bag and take everything out. My hand brushes hers in the process and it’s like an electric current passes between us. I look down into her eyes, like two swirling pools of water, and she licks her lips.
Fuck me.
No, seriously. At this moment, I really want to tell her to do just that.
Instead, I grab a sandwich and turn away.
“Thank you,” I hear her say.
I look over my shoulder and nod. “You’re welcome.”
Back in my office behind my desk, I unwrap the sandwich, but my appetite is gone. My appetite for food, anyway.
I look out the glass window and see Ashley lick excess hummus from her upper lip. When I feel my lower body tighten in response, I clench my jaw. What in God’s name was I thinking when I hired this woman?
Apparently, I must be some kind of masochist because I am starting to enjoy the way she’s torturing me.
I do not, however, enjoy the way things go later that afternoon.
After hanging up on only one of the callers for the conference call, Ashley manages to re-connect us all within a few minutes. I think she’s finally catching on.
The call between myself and the potential new client and his lawyer with far too many questions irks me.
I don’t feel the need to push myself onto someone much less clarify to them why I’m the best choice. My track record speaks for itself. If you aren’t 100 percent onboard from the beginning, go to another company. I could care less.
But, I remain polite and answer their idiotic questions.
Afterwards, Ashley’s sunny voice comes over my intercom. At least this time, she doesn’t address the whole 25th floor. Progress, I think. “I have Dan McPerson on the line for you,” she announces.
“Put him through,” I say and, even though I’m dreading this call, I have to go forward with the JD Unlimited takeover.
Of course, Dan tries to talk me out of it and everything he says makes perfect sense. But, I’m not thinking logically anymore. A fire burns in my blood and all I want is James Douglas’s head on a spike. At this point, I don’t give two shits about running his company anymore. I think it would be far more rewarding to take it over and shut it down. Burn the damn thing to the ground just to spite him. Fucking pain in my ass. I’m going to bring him to his knees.
Dan calls me stubborn and claims I’m being an obstinate asshole. Yeah, so?
Finally, he relents. He doesn’t have a choice as long as he’s on my payroll.
Part of my assistant’s job is to forward various emails, mostly ones from HR, or some from research and ensure they go to specific departments. I was pretty sure the thick handbook on Ashley’s desk that she’d been perusing all day should have explained it all clearly.