Chapter 8 #2
A smirk curls up his lips while the woman continues to prattle on to him, though now his focus is entirely on me. He pulls out his phone and types something into it. A second later, mine vibrates in my pocket. Unable to resist the urge, I slip it out and read the text he just sent me.
Kaplan: See something you like?
I smirk, shaking my head and coughing out a small laugh. I quickly reply.
Me: Not from where I’m standing. Then again, I haven’t gotten a good look at your mother’s dress yet.
I shoot the text and then shoot him a raised eyebrow.
He reads it and smiles and that weird thing in my belly swoops at it.
Just then his mother catches his attention, her gaze slingshotting over to me and then up to him questioningly.
She says something to him and he nods, cutting his attention away from me and back over to the pretty senator’s daughter.
Without a word, I go back to my lunch, listening without speaking as Greta and Charlie gossip about Kaplan and his lunch date.
* * *
Thursday:
Kaplan: I need a large black coffee delivered to the hospital within the next ten minutes or you’re fired.
Me: Call Uber Eats and get them to do it or better yet, get an intern to do your coffee bidding.
You can’t fire me. Frankly, you need me too damn much.
I’m sitting in a budget meeting with the event staff to discuss the spring events.
Also, Jenny is glaring at me like she wants to siphon my blood, cook it down, and drink it.
I’m naming her Draugr since we’re all about mythological creatures instead of Mean Jenny—not enough punch to that. PS Your date was pretty.
Kaplan: I can’t tell if you’re jealous or fishing for information.
Me: Neither. I’m being honest.
Kaplan: She wasn’t my date; she was an ambush. Since we’re being honest. What’s going on in the budget meeting?
Me: I’ll email you my notes when it’s over. Stop texting me. I have very important things to do.
Two hours later:
Kaplan: You never emailed me the budget stuff.
Me: I did. So either you know it’s there but you wanted to text me or you haven’t checked your email and are lazy. Which is it?
An hour later:
Me: Did you know the press has been lining the sidewalk, waiting for you?
There is also a parade of women who walk back and forth in front of the building while pretending to casually stroll by.
Your new girlfriend isn’t among them. I know you’re disappointed by that.
Seriously though, Charlie had to call the cops on two who insisted they had appointments with you and wouldn’t leave until they saw you.
Did they not get the memo to stalk the hospital instead?
Kaplan: They’ve been here as well. Whatever you do, don’t open that mouth of yours. Don’t tell them who you are. Don’t give them your name. And don’t say anything about me.
Me: That’s a lot of strong orders. Are you nervous they’ll fall for me instead of you? And just who am I?
Kaplan: My soon to be unemployed pain in the ass assistant.
Me: Aw, you’re cute when you baselessly threaten me. But did you ever consider I might be more than that? Check this out. Made it last night. *picture of metal monster with wings* I think that’s a keeper for your bookshelf, Typhon.
Kaplan: You made that?
Me: I’m assuming you’re shocked at my overwhelming talent since I can’t determine over text if that was snarky or not. But yes. My second time using the forge. If you’re nice, I’ll make you some book ends to go with it.
Kaplan: I’m trying to think of something cruel to say to that, but for once, I’m coming up empty.
Me: Wow, that’s practically a compliment.
Kaplan: It wasn’t. My niece Stella could have done a better job and she’s thirteen.
Me: That was lame. You’re losing your touch.
Kaplan: What can I say to get you to quit?
Me: That you love me and want to marry me. That should do it. I’ll run from Boston faster than you can say Bianca Fritz.
Kaplan: Ha. You wish. Speaking of, are you feeling threatened with all the women stalking the building? Do I need to set up security there?
Me: No. I’m fine. We’re all fine. No one knows I’m your assistant. Shhh. I’m leaving for the day. See you, Monday, Typhon.
Friday
Me: I have finally gained access to your hospital schedule and have tried to work important meetings here around those.
I’ve also spoken with your IT department there and they have assured me you’ll be able to access our meetings virtually if needed.
Today was also your mother’s last day and everyone here was in tears.
You should know, if you don’t already, she is very loved and will be greatly missed by her staff.
Kaplan: I already know this.
Me: Are you even planning on trying?
Kaplan: With you? No.
Me: Care to explain that? Or is it because you called me beautiful, and I kissed your cheek after spilling part of my life story to you? Or is it because I said if you tell me you love me, I’ll quit?
Kaplan: It’s Friday night, Bianca. Go home.
Me: I don’t have a home yet, Kaplan. I move into my new place Sunday.
Kaplan: If you quit now, you can be back in Kansas by the morrow.
Me: No one says morrow unless they’re Mr. Darcy and while you have his snobbish countenance and untouchable air, you’re no Mr. Darcy.
I was living in LA before this. Texas before that.
And what is it with you trying to make me quit?
Do you truly want a Jenny assisting you while you take over here or are you just being an ass because you don’t like how we met, that I genuinely don’t want to jump your bones, or that I am the only one brave enough not to take your crap?
Kaplan: Why were you going to marry him if you didn’t love him?
Me: Why do you care?
Kaplan: Humor me.
Me: Family pressure. Poor role models. Lack of basic understanding of romantic love.
Tragic past that might have broken me a little more than I like to admit.
Self-esteem that needs a bit of polishing.
I thought I loved him enough to marry him, but I didn’t.
Confession time: I’m glad I didn’t marry him.
I think I would have regretted it always.
Kaplan: Confession time: I’m glad you didn’t marry him either.
Me: Are you dating that woman?
Kaplan: I don’t date anyone. Not anymore. But I like that you’re still jealous enough to ask.
Me: And I like that you care enough to tell me you’re glad I didn’t marry Tod. Why don’t you date anymore?
Twenty minutes later.
Me: You can tell me, and I won’t tell anyone. You’re also not the totally cold, uncaring bastard you try to be. Why do you hide who you are from the world?
Kaplan: Good night, Bianca
Me: I told you mine.
Kaplan: Monday. Eight a.m. sharp. Don’t be late. Or you’re fired.
Me: Wait! Why do you get to ask all the questions and you answer none of mine?