Chapter 14
Amelia
It’s mid-morning on Monday when the buzzer goes off on my desk.
I’d arrived early as usual, but as I placed my bag beside my chair, I could hear Crawford talking on the phone.
He didn’t ask me to come into his office, so I didn’t think anything of it. I simply opened my computer and got to work.
Now, the buzzer breaks my focus as I’m writing an email, and I feel a jolt of excitement. I’m privately excited for him to see the underwear I have on. They’re white with gold vertical pin stripes down the fabric. I think it’ll suit his tastes perfectly.
I smooth my hands over my skirt, head to the door, and knock.
“Come in.”
I enter, expecting him to be leaning against his desk, waiting to ravage me. Instead, he’s behind his desk, looking confused and staring at the packs I printed for him.
Oh shit.
He glances up, barely looks at me, and then leans back in his chair.
“I don’t understand these. This isn’t how Beatrice usually organizes the packs. Ask her to redo them, please.”
My heart picks up speed. “Actually, I prepared those for you. I’m sorry. I’ll change them back,” I say quickly, advancing on his desk and reaching for them.
He holds up a hand, and I stop, leaning over his desk in an awkward half fold as I look up at him.
“Alright, if you’re the one who did them, explain it to me. What are all these tabs supposed to be?”
I look down at the white folder I’d prepared on Friday. It’s a series of documents regarding the merger and several related emails. I swallow, clearing my throat.
“I was trying to make navigating the documents a little easier,” I say, fidgeting in place.
“I don’t need tabs sticking out everywhere,” he says, his voice a rumbling growl that I wish didn’t have such an effect on me.
“Okay, I’ll cha—”
“Explain them, Amelia.”
A little tingling sensation skitters over my skin as he says my name.
“Alright,” I begin carefully, “so the gold tabs are for the financial documentation. The CFO sent over several reports, but they relate back to her email. When I read through the content of the email chain, it includes a lot of secondary information that isn’t in the reports.”
Crawford flips back to the top, where the email is stapled neatly above the accompanying documents. Using the tabs, he flips back and forth. His eyes skim over everything so fast I can’t believe he’s read any of it, but then he grunts.
“What a stupid thing to do,” he says, and my heart plummets. “Thanks for catching that. She should have included this information in the report. What else?”
I exhale slowly, feeling like a hummingbird. My heart is beating so fast, I wonder if he can hear it.
“Her slide deck mainly focuses on Q1 and Q2,” I continue, pointing to the relevant section.
“But she’s also included estimated predictions for Q3.
They’re in a separate email, which was sent a few days prior.
The long white tabs are numbered along the edge, and I felt that would make it easier to refer back to the summary metrics without rifling through the other paperwork. ”
Crawford’s hand hovers over the file, flipping to the pages and then back again.
“Huh,” he flips to the fourth tab and back again. “It’s color-coded.”
“And in date order,” I add. “It just felt as if, for this particular meeting, you’d need to know when things were shared. There was some discrepancy about that in the correspondence.”
“You read the emails, too?” he asks, looking up at me.
I go very still, biting my lip. “Uh. Some of them, yeah. Sorry, am I not supposed to?”
Crawford leans back in his chair, and for the first time, he looks at me with an expression that has nothing to do with lust.
He has one eyebrow quirked up and a little smile on his face. As his eyes meet mine, there’s something there that looks a little like admiration.
“Okay. Thank you for clarifying. You can go.”
“Do you want me to change it?”
“No. It makes sense now.”
I hover, expecting him to say more. We haven’t had sex this morning, and it’s amazing how quickly my body has become attuned to it. I feel a throb between my legs as I’m standing there, desperate for him to come and touch me.
Instead, he turns back to the folder and doesn’t say anything more.
I hesitate, knowing I should leave, but I want him to look at me. His eyes come to rest on a word on the page in front of him, like he’s about to ask me what the hell I’m still doing there.
I turn and bolt out of the room, embarrassed at my body’s reaction to him. I sit down at my desk, staring at my computer screen, not sure how to feel.
It’s been a week. Maybe this is him telling me my time is up. Has he gotten bored already?
Hope warned me about this, and so did Bethany. But somehow the disappointment stings a lot harder than I expected.
Is it more than disappointment?
I open my emails, trying to banish the ridiculous thought. I can’t afford to start getting offended when he isn’t in the mood. I’m not his wife. I’m just an escort, hired to fuck him.
For the next hour, I have my head down printing off endless reams of emails and collating them together into packs. I don’t make any other changes, as I'm too nervous that he’ll think I’m getting overconfident, but I’m privately pleased that my new system helped in a small way.
When I return from my third printing run, I find Kaitlin at my desk looking less put-together than she usually does.
“Hey,” she says immediately. “I’m glad I caught you.”
I glance at the clock on the wall opposite my desk and frown. It’s just after 4 p.m.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. Her fingers are twisting in front of her nervously, and she glances at Crawford’s office door as she lowers her voice.
“Beatrice is gonna kill me.”
I place the papers I’ve printed on my desk and nod to the seat beside me. “What happened?”
Kaitlin gratefully lowers into the chair. “I’m such an idiot, Amelia. Maurice, that’s my boyfriend, texted me about an appointment he’d arranged for our son. You remember how the doctor kept cancelling them?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, the appointment is in an hour. I completely forgot.”
I turn to her, confused. “Okay, that’s after work is over. Why is that a problem?”
“Because Beatrice has been super stressed this week, and I offered to help her with sending out the paperwork for the executive committee meeting tomorrow. I was trying to be helpful and take it off her hands, but I forgot to add it to my to-do list. I’m sorry.
I feel like you’re gonna think I’m this totally unprofessional bitch who’s constantly loading all my stuff onto you… but…”
“What do you need me to do?”
Kaitlin’s whole face collapses in relief. “It’s a lot, Amelia. I would owe you lunch for like a week.”
“If you have to go to an appointment to take care of your son, you go. I’ll deal with it, just tell me what you need me to do.”
“Thank you, it’ll save my life. I’ll have my phone on me, so you can call me if you have questions.”
Over the next ten minutes, Kaitlin runs through everything. She’s right, it’s a lot of work, and I know I’ll need to stay late. There are a lot of important people coming to the meeting, and several of them have specific requirements when it comes to their correspondence.
It’s complicated, and I take copious notes, all the while calculating in my head whether Annabelle will be okay without me this evening.
“Alright, so it’s these fifteen attendees?” I ask. “And then I’ll need to do the packs as normal, but Mr. Bailey has to step out midway through, and then Mr. Kendrick will replace him?”
“That’s it. Kendrick’s PA is a bitch, too, so she’s going to be pissed that she’s getting this stuff so late. Just blame me. Jesus, I should have sent them yesterday. I can’t believe I forgot.”
“It’s okay, Kaitlin, I’ll call her and give her a heads up. When I worked in my old job, there was this really bitchy secretary. She would send me the rudest stuff over email, but she was a lot less ‘brave’ over the phone.” I grin at her, and she laughs.
“Thanks, Amelia. Text me if you need me.”
“I will. Go look after your little boy. I’ve got this.”
She gives me a quizzical stare. “You’re being really nice about this. What’s the catch?”
“You’re buying me lunch, aren’t you?” I say.
But she keeps looking at me, and eventually I sigh.
I don’t like sharing my personal life, but she’s shared something with me, too.
“My sister is sick. I know how hard it can be. Go deal with it. My favorite snack is a white chocolate cookie. You can pay me in sweet treats.”
Kaitlin’s shoulders relax. “Deal,” she says, rising. “I’m sorry about your sister. Is she okay?”
I can’t look at her as I slowly shake my head. “Not so much, but it’s fine. She’s gonna be starting new treatment soon, which’ll straighten her right out.”
“Amelia.” I look up. “Thank you,” Kaitlin says solemnly. “I mean it.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her arm jerks toward me like she’s thinking about hugging me, but changes her mind, then she runs out the door.