My Favorite Boss

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

MAGNOLIA

L ater Monday afternoon, I was busy trying to sort Bane’s expenses when a deliveryman walked in. He handed me a small vase filled with pretty flowers. I was confused, but they were addressed to me. I opened the card, frowning when I read the simple signature.

Ty

Who the hell was Ty, and why was he sending me flowers?

Bane walked in from a meeting as I was hanging up the phone. He frowned at the addition to my desk. “What the hell are those?” he snapped.

“Flowers.”

“Whatever. Take them home. I don’t like decorations.”

“Again, they are flowers . But don’t worry. I’ll be sending them back since I got them in error. There was obviously a mistake in the flower world, and they were delivered incorrectly.”

“Why would you say that?”

I thrust the card his way. “Ty. I don’t know a Ty, so the flowers aren’t for me.”

“Did you call the florist?”

“Yes. They said those were the instructions they got, and they were intended for me.” I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

“Secret admirer, then. Great,” he huffed. “Keep your personal life personal. All right, Myers?”

Then he slammed his door.

I stroked the petals on a flower, smiling. I had never received flowers before, so even if it was a mix-up, I had to admit I loved them. They added a bright touch to my desk. I only hoped whoever Ty was, he wasn’t in trouble with his girl when she didn’t get the flowers.

I glanced at Bane’s door with a scowl. I was keeping them on my desk, and I would take them home on Friday. He could pound sand for all I cared.

Then I got back to work.

The next two weeks were crazy. Bane was hot and cold. Blunt and irritated, then suddenly pleasant. His door was open, then closed. He barked orders, then asked me something in a polite tone. He worked constantly and I stayed late to help him, came in early, and, at times, worked from home. I didn’t complain, and he never commented, other than the occasional grunt I took as a thank-you.

Another set of flowers arrived the following Monday afternoon, which earned me a scowl from Bane, although he didn’t demand I remove them. The florist insisted they had the right address but refused to give me any other information.

I racked my brain, checked the company directory for a Ty or Tyler, but the only one listed was married, never so much as said hello to me, and worked on another floor. I highly doubted he was sending me flowers. I didn’t know a man with that name, so it was a complete mystery. But I was too busy to worry about it.

I didn’t know which way was up or down, trying to keep up with Bane. I wondered if he was nervous about the awards dinner coming up, then decided not to ask him. I liked my head where it was—on my shoulders.

I tried my best to stay ahead of him. I made sure he had his lunch every day. That the files he needed for his meetings were at his fingertips. I kept people away from him so he could work. His coffee cup was always full. I added a container of ice water. He looked at me, one eyebrow arched in question when I set it on his desk.

“To keep hydrated,” I explained. “You need more than coffee.”

He grunted. I took that as a thank-you.

I worked until he left, which was usually past six at night—some nights later. I had been introduced to his driver, and I had his number so I could call him whenever Bane needed him.

When he had explained it to me, I had blown out a breath. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you had a driver.”

“I do. His name is Darryl.”

“Landscape architecture must pay well,” I quipped.

He frowned. “Old money, Myers.”

“Oh.” That explained a lot. His suits, his address, his lack of worry about his expense account.

I received one of his rare smiles. “And I do well at my job.”

Then he became the Bane I knew the best.

Abrupt and curt.

“Get me a coffee.”

“Of course, sir.”

During the various errands he sent me on, I got to know the people in the building. Pete, the old security guy. Jenny, one of the cleaning ladies who worked on the floor every day. Mac, the man who kept the front lobby spotless. The other partners’ assistants were friendly, although I didn’t really know them that well yet. They invited me to lunch, but I had been so busy I hadn’t made it yet. I liked them all—hardworking, nice people. I looked forward to getting to know them all even more. As long as I survived my boss.

“Myers!” the bane of my existence called to get my attention.

Again.

Good God, the man liked to bellow.

I rolled my shoulders and went to his door, entering without knocking. There was no point, although he scowled every time I did it. He was shouting for me, so he must know I was about to walk in. Why should I knock?

“You need something?”

“These papers need to go to HR. Now.”

I swallowed down my retort. Telling him I was just about to drink my coffee and eat my sandwich would do me no good. I rarely got the chance to enjoy my coffee. Or eat a sandwich in its entirety. In fact, half the time, I didn’t recall drinking my coffee. But it disappeared, so I assumed I had. “Of course.”

He looked past me with a glare. “I see flowers arrived again. I thought we discussed this.”

I sighed. “I have no idea who is sending them, so I can’t tell them to stop.”

He waved me off. “Whatever. Take the papers down.”

I took a sip and then headed downstairs to the HR office. I gave the papers to Jessica, who asked me how things were going.

“Great,” I said with a false smile. “Busy.”

She nodded. “Alexander is always busy.”

“So I’ve discovered.”

“You’re able to keep up?”

“Perfectly,” I lied. I came in early, worked late, and did a lot of stuff at home. The man never stopped, it seemed. “I have to get back.” I waved and took the stairs up, walking into the office.

I sat down, reaching for my coffee, and frowned. It was empty. I had only had a few sips, hadn’t I? I rubbed my forehead. This kept happening to me. I opened my sandwich, taking a bite, then picked up my coffee cup and hurried to the kitchen to make another cup. Luckily, no one was in the break room, so I didn’t have to deal with those catty women today. I walked back into the office, surprised to see Mr. Bane standing by my desk. He looked guilty when he saw me, stepping back.

“You got the papers there?”

“Yes.”

“Took you a while.”

“I was already back. I needed coffee.”

“Ah. Well, finish your lunch and get mine.”

He headed back into his office, partially shutting the door again. I sat down, picking up my sandwich, now completely confused. I thought I had just taken one bite, but only a bite or two remained of the first half of the sandwich. I rubbed my head, wondering if I was losing my mind. How was my coffee disappearing and my sandwich being eaten? Was I that tired and forgetful?

I lifted my sandwich, stopping as I looked at it. The bite mark was much larger than the nibbles I took. I glanced at the door, recalling the guilty look on Mr. Bane’s face.

Had he taken a bite of my sandwich?

Why?

I thought of my disappearing coffees, and once again, I looked at his door. He claimed not to like them, yet they kept vanishing.

He wouldn’t .

Would he?

Only one way to find out.

“I’ll be back in fifteen,” Mr. Bane barked as he walked past my desk.

“Okay.”

I waited for ten, then headed to the break room and made my coffee. Back in the office, I set it on the desk and slipped behind his door, peeking through the crack. If I was wrong, I was going to have to explain myself, but it was worth the risk. He strode in, pausing by my desk. I felt my eyes widen as he stopped, lifted my cup, and took a sip. Then another.

I sprang from behind the door, pointing dramatically and yelling. “Gotcha, coffee thief!”

In retrospect, I should have thought my actions through.

He spun around, and mid-swallow, he choked. Sputtered. Sprayed me with hot, foamy coffee. I gasped as it hit my chest, dripping down my skin and soaking the material. For a moment, neither of us moved, and then he sprang forward, discarding the cup on the desk.

“Are you burned?”

“No.”

He grabbed his pocket scarf, frantically trying to mop up the coffee.

That was soaked into my blouse.

On my chest.

He pressed and stroked, mumbling and cursing. Feeling me up without even realizing. I laid my hands over his, stilling his movements.

“Bane,” I murmured. “You have to stop.”

“Alexander, you missed a signature?—”

Jessica from HR walked in, freezing in shock, the words drying on her lips. I knew what she saw. Bane, looming over me, his hands on my boobs, and me holding them there.

He knew it too.

“Jesus Christ,” he swore. “No. No. No.”

Jessica shook her head. “I’ll come back.”

“Coffee!” I squealed. “He was stealing my coffee, and it got on my boobs. He wasn’t feeling me up—really.”

She looked more confused. “Stealing your coffee?”

I laughed shrilly. “It was a joke.”

Bane nodded. “A joke. Yes. A joke.”

She grimaced. “Alexander, I think we need to talk. My office. Five minutes.”

And she walked out.

His gaze, wild and furious, met mine. “Again,” he snarled. “Again, you’ve caused me trouble that I have to try to explain.”

“While you’re thinking, maybe you could take your hands off my boobs?”

He tore them away as if they were on fire. But not before we both noticed how hard my nipples were. Or that his fingers had been caressing them the whole time.

“Why were you eating my sandwich?” I demanded.

“I was starving! You never finish it anyway.”

“And my coffee?”

“I needed a drink.”

“Why don’t you just admit you like my foamy coffees, as you call them, and I’ll make you your own?”

He glared at me and ran a hand through his hair. Which was still damp from the coffee. He growled in agitation, then turned and went into his office, no doubt to wash his hands before heading to HR.

The way the door slammed, I knew I’d have to knock next time.

By Thursday, I was tired and looking forward to the week being over. Bane had barely spoken to me since the coffee incident. I made a point of making him a foamy coffee at least once a day simply to prove a point. When he returned from seeing Jessica, he told me to forward him any dry-cleaning bills for “splashing” me. I sweetly told him I could get the stains out myself. He had grunted, whether in displeasure or acknowledgment, I wasn’t sure. His door-slamming overrode the sound of his grunt. What he and HR discussed, he never revealed.

I walked into the empty lounge and headed into the kitchen. Bane had the only office on this floor. He liked his privacy and being secluded, and apparently, what Bane wanted, Bane got.

The rest of the floor held a private boardroom, this kitchen, and the staff lounge. The other two partners had their offices on the floor below, along with accounting and the main boardroom. The rest of the staff was two floors down. Balanced Designs owned the rest of the building, which was sublet to various businesses.

I rinsed the mugs, muttering as I splashed some diluted coffee on my favorite blouse. I walked down to the bathroom, rinsing my hands and the spot on my cuff, then blotted it dry with a paper towel. I heard people in the lounge, but I wasn’t in the mood to be chipper and friendly today, so I decided to make the coffee for Bane and leave.

I measured out the coffee and began to pour the milk when I heard it. Some other women were now in the staff room. They were in the lounge area, so they couldn’t see me.

“Did you see the outfit she was wearing today? I swear she buys her clothes from my grandmother’s attic. Does she really think she looks good?”

I stiffened, recognizing Verity’s voice. I disliked her and her fake pleasantness. I had heard her rip other assistants apart, then smile when she saw them, pretending to be nice—exactly as I thought she would do. I avoided her and her little clique as much as possible.

“Seriously, she has no style. She struts around here like she owns the place just because she’s Bane’s assistant of the month,” she complained. “How she got that job is a mystery.”

“Probably on her knees,” her sidekick Rhonda said snidely. The other woman with them snickered.

I shut my eyes, shaking my head and continuing to make Bane’s coffee. I tried to ignore the fact that my hand was shaking a little.

“She’s on borrowed time. He never keeps anyone. I heard he’s already complaining about her,” one of them said with a snicker.

My head snapped up.

He was? I gripped the counter. Was this about the coffee thing? Was he that upset with me?

“Between her flippant attitude, her embarrassing wardrobe, and her looks, she won’t be around long,” Verity assured her. “Does she think covering herself in layers and lace hides how fat she is? Can you imagine what sort of getup she’ll wear to the awards banquet tomorrow? She’ll embarrass the entire company. He’ll fire her on Monday. If she lasts that long.”

I blinked at the sudden moisture in my eyes, then reminded myself to ignore them.

“I can’t stand her. She’s a joke,” Rhonda said. “Acting like she’s a big shot. Friends with all the little people—like that makes her better. Who cares about Pete or the cleaning woman?”

“She’s friends with them because she’s one of them. The nothings,” Verity spat. “I applied for that job. I should have gotten it. I have experience in the company, and I could be so useful to him.”

“Behind the desk or under it?” Rhonda asked.

“Both. I’d suck him so good, he’d forget everything and everyone else.”

There was another round of laughter. I couldn’t listen to them anymore. I headed out the back hallway door, coffee forgotten. I was horrified at what they were saying. Not only about me, but Mr. Bane. The disrespect. The horrible image of Verity doing that to him. Being close to him at all.

And she had hit the proverbial nail on the head when it came to me. Poking at my clothes, my weight, my attitude, and my work ethic. The fact that I was embarrassing.

I slipped into the bathroom, closing the stall door behind me. I leaned on the cold metal, taking in some deep breaths.

They were jealous. Spiteful. Nothing they said mattered.

I kept repeating those words to myself.

I heard the door open and a quiet voice say my name. “Magnolia? Are you okay?”

I recognized Rylee’s voice. Unlike the other women, she was sweet and kind. Friendly. We hadn’t gotten the chance to hang out together yet, but I liked her.

“I’m fine.”

“I heard those cows,” she said. “I told them off.”

I opened the door. “You did what?”

She was short like me. Curvy, too. Sweet and soft-spoken. Usually quiet. Everyone liked her. Her stature and disposition hid an incredible talent for all things computer. I had heard she was the smartest of them all and could write code no one else could. I knew the partners, including Bane, thought the world of her.

But imagining her going against Verity made my head spin.

“Why would you do that?”

Her normally warm green eyes flashed. Right now, they looked like hard pieces of jade. “They’re horrible, and they were all lying to make themselves feel better. Jealous bitches.”

“They aren’t wrong. I’m not like the other assistants.”

“That’s why I like you. You’re real and nice. You’re polite and friendly. Honest.” She smiled, dimples appearing on her cheeks. “And I like the way you dress. You always look so pretty.”

“Thank you.”

She stepped forward, laying a hand on my arm. “Ignore them. Don’t let them get into your head. Be you.”

I smiled, patting her hand. “Thanks, Rylee. Are you going to the awards banquet tomorrow?”

She nodded with a frown. “I was told I had to.”

“We could sit together.”

“Oh, I’d love that!”

“Okay. It’s a date.”

She chuckled. “Awesome.”

She left, and I stared in the mirror, wiping my eyes and blowing my nose. I straightened my shoulders and headed back to my desk.

I sat down, frowning at my computer. A moment later, Bane yelled my name, and I went to his door, which was ajar.

“Yes, sir?”

He looked displeased. “Did you get lost?”

“Lost?” I repeated.

“On the way to get my coffee.” He made a show of glancing at his wrist. “It’s been twenty minutes.”

“Oh. Um… We’re out of milk.”

“Then give me a black coffee.” He frowned. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I, ah, my tummy was a little upset. I forgot. I’ll go get it now.”

I turned and hurried off, praying the witches had gone back to their caves and I wouldn’t have to deal with their snide remarks and looks.

BANE

She returned with my coffee, one of her foamy ones, setting it down with a fast smile.

“Someone got the milk.” She paused. “Anything else?”

I studied her, noting how pale she looked. Her eyes looked odd. Almost as if she’d been crying. For some reason, the thought of her being upset bothered me. Recalling what she’d said earlier, I cleared my throat.

“Are you feeling all right, Myers? Do you need to go home?”

She shook her head, her gaze bouncing everywhere. “No, I’m fine. I’ll get back to work.”

She hesitated at the door. “Um, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Is everything, ah, satisfactory?”

I frowned. “Everything is fine. I would tell you if it were otherwise.”

“All right. I was just checking. I can take direction if required.”

I was confused. “I am aware of that, and I have no complaints with your work.” Wanting to bring a smile to her face, I winked. “Today anyway. I’ll let you know when I do.”

But she didn’t reply with one of her quips. My teasing barely got a smile. She nodded and returned to her desk.

After a few moments, I rose from my chair, opening the door she had pulled partially closed. She was on the phone, glancing up as I walked past her. I dug around in the file cabinet, picking a folder at random, and headed back to my office, leaving the door open. I sat down, opening the file, pretending to study it, while I covertly watched her.

Something was wrong. She was polite and professional on the call, as she always was, but her friendliness was off. Her voice wasn’t right. The pitch was wrong. Something had upset her, but I wasn’t sure what that was. I knew I was right when she hung up and didn’t blaze into my office, informing me not to touch the files or that I was doing her job. She simply began working on the budgets I had given her to go over.

I shook my head at my wayward thoughts. It wasn’t my place to wonder what was upsetting my assistant. She was an employee. Everyone had bad days.

I turned back to the design I was working on, pushing away all thoughts of anything else, ignoring the voice that whispered she’d been fine before she’d left to get coffee. Whatever had caused her distress happened in twenty minutes.

It took all my concentration to shut out those thoughts.

At six, Myers came into my office. “Do you need anything else before I leave?”

I looked up, narrowing my gaze at her. She looked like herself, except the polite smile. “No.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Myers, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Her response was too fast, too short, and too wrong.

“Anything on your mind?” I asked.

“Um, well…”

“Yes?” I prompted.

“I was wondering if I was really required to go to the awards dinner tomorrow.”

Her question was innocent enough. It was the way her fingers tangled in the lace of her sleeves, pulling on the delicate trim, that caught my eye.

“Required, no,” I mused. “But I thought you were looking forward to it.”

“Oh, um, I thought perhaps someone more important, better, I mean, um, more essential to the firm should go.”

I sat back, tilting my head. “If you don’t want to go, I won’t force you, Myers. But as a member of my office, an important one, I would like you there. It’s a chance for you to see some of the other people in the industry, other key people here, in a different light. We’re up for several awards—you don’t want to cheer your favorite boss on?”

“Oh no, of course. I was just, ah, checking.”

At this point, I wasn’t sure I would ever see that blouse again. Soon, there would be nothing left of the sleeves the way she was tearing at the lace.

“I assure you, I would like you to attend. It would be nice to see a friendly face when they call the name of the award winner and it’s not mine,” I said jokingly.

“You will win!” she said breathlessly, letting her sleeves go. “Your designs are incredible.”

“Then be sure to be there to see it for yourself.”

“Yes. Of course.” She huffed a breath. “Goodnight, Bane.”

She turned and walked out, leaving me puzzled.

Bane . She’d called me that a few times, but I was Mr. Bane earlier. And she always addressed me as such in front of colleagues or other staff members. She was exceedingly professional all the time. She was, in fact, a great assistant.

But why, suddenly, did she not want to attend the awards dinner?

I was going to have to figure out this mystery.

The next day, Myers was quiet but seemed all right. She worked hard all morning on the budgets I gave her. I attended meetings, listened to clients, and was grateful when the final phone call was over.

She entered my office, sliding the budgets on my desk.

“Done?” I asked, not looking up.

“Yes.”

“I assume you’re leaving to get ready for the dinner?” All staff had been told the office was closing at four.

“If that is all right.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Since I was part of the decision to allow it, it is.”

“Good, then. I’ll head out.”

“I’m working tomorrow,” I informed her. “I have a lot of changes to the Duncan design.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She headed for the door, and I called to her. “Myers.”

She turned.

“Try to enjoy the evening. The speeches tend to be a little long, but the food is good, and they offer a surprisingly good red at the bar.”

She smiled. “Noted.”

And she was gone.

I worked until six, then took a fast shower and changed into my tux. I straightened the bow tie, slipping on my cuff links and tugging my sleeves into place. The dinner was happening at a hotel only a few blocks from the office, and I strolled over, arriving in plenty of time. I picked up a drink from the bar, shook some hands, and spoke with some other colleagues. As I stood with a group of men, one of them whistled under his breath. “Now there’s a stunner.”

I followed his gaze to the bar. A woman had her back to us, but her vivid green dress framed her shoulders and the creamy skin of her upper back. The dress flared out from her waist, showing off shapely legs and a set of dainty ankles, encased in low heels that matched her dress. A tattoo of a flower was on the top of her right shoulder blade, and I squinted to figure out what kind it was.

Then she turned, and I almost dropped my glass.

Magnolia Myers was a vision. Her hair was swept into a stylish knot, tendrils dancing around her face and neck. The cocktail dress crisscrossed her breasts, hanging off her shoulders, showing the rest of the tattoo that was etched into her skin along the front and back side of her shoulder blade. I recognized the flower now, the magnolias stunning on her skin.

She was curves and softness, encased in emerald green. She was exquisite.

Our eyes met and locked. I couldn’t force my gaze from hers as she lifted a glass to her lips and sipped. She was a throwback to another era, her choice of dress as eclectic and stylish as the clothes she wore into the office. She was elegant, beautiful, and classy—and she took my breath away.

“Jesus, I’d do her.”

“She’s taken,” I snarled, surprised by my own words, tearing my gaze from her.

“You know her?”

“Yes. She’s engaged.” Why I was telling him that lie, I didn’t know.

“Oh. Shame. Still, I’d have a go.”

“Grow up,” I snapped and walked away, not caring about the shocked expressions.

I headed across the room, faltering as another staff member, Rylee, joined Magnolia. The two of them hugged, and Myers tugged a shawl over her shoulders before they walked away together. I asked for another scotch, then leaned against the bar, observing the room, my gaze finding Myers time and time again.

She was easily the most captivating woman in the room. She sat down with Rylee, draping the shawl over the back of her chair. I strolled toward my table, choosing a seat that gave me a clear view of her. Despite her smile, she was tense. I could see it in the set of her shoulders, the way the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Rylee said something to her, and she shook her head with a rueful smile and a shrug. I wondered what they were discussing, my thoughts interrupted as my tablemates joined me. I talked with my partners and their wives, grateful the extra seat at our table was being used by Lawson’s mother and not some stranger or one of the staff. Looking over, I watched as other assistants and employees filled our remaining two tables. I stood and got another drink, standing in a shadowed alcove at the back of the room, shamelessly eavesdropping. I found it interesting how people acted outside the office when they thought no one was listening. Often, their true nature showed. Two women stopped close to me, gossiping, bad-mouthing outfits and people. They didn’t notice me, and they became especially nasty, focusing on some woman, disparaging her outfit, calling her names, all while wearing false smiles on their faces. I was admittedly shocked at their venom.

“I hope she’s fired after tonight. What a whore,” one of them muttered.

My eyebrows shot up at that remark. I scanned the room, unable to see who they were discussing.

“I bet the color of her hair isn’t even real,” the other responded.

“Oh, the fake red is definitely from a box. And that outfit. Does she buy all her clothes from a thrift store?”

“I’m sure he is so embarrassed he’ll get rid of her.”

“She acts so high and mighty. I hope the fall back to earth hurts.”

“Does she really think she can get away with wearing that dress? She is way too heavy for it. She looks like a sausage. She thinks the green suits her with that dyed hair? Please.”

An announcement was made for dinner to start, so I slipped away, sliding onto my chair.

Their remarks bothered me. Not only were they tearing apart someone they obviously worked with, I had a feeling their cattiness went far beyond the outfit. I watched as they joined Rylee and Myers, sitting in the two empty chairs by Rylee. I recognized them from the office but couldn’t recall their names. That was confirmed when I asked Lawson, who identified them as being in the assistant pool. “Verity has subbed in for my PA on occasion,” he said. “She’s fine pinch-hitting, but I’m always grateful when Giselle returns.”

His wife crossed her legs. “Not my favorite person,” she murmured, catching my eye. “I’m quite certain a job isn’t all she wants at the company.” She lifted one brow in hidden meaning. She leaned forward. “Catty,” she said quietly. “She’d be nasty when cornered, I think.”

I frowned as I raised my glass to my lips, observing the table where Myers sat. She had gone quiet again, her smile absent. I thought of the remarks I’d heard, and I studied all the women at the three tables. Only one who would pass for having red hair. One who dressed differently. One pretty woman who was wearing green.

And suddenly, I was furious.

The light and sunshine Myers liked to spread dwindled, faded, and was finally burned out before dessert. Every time she spoke, one of the women I had overheard earlier talked over her. Their laughter was louder than anyone else’s when one of them would make a comment. At times, they were the only two laughing. Myers picked at her dinner, barely sipped her wine, and she looked uncomfortable. She had slipped on her shawl before dinner was served, and it seemed to me she grew smaller each passing moment, shrinking into the cover-up as if trying to disappear. I saw the way Rylee tried to act as a buffer. Yet time and again, one of the women would lean over and say something to Myers that slayed her. I was certain she was the “whore” they had been discussing. The urge to stand and take Myers’s hand, leading her to my table, was so strong, I had to curl my hands into fists on my legs to stop myself.

I headed to the bar to get another drink, needing to distance myself. Rylee Jenkins appeared beside me, requesting a fresh glass of wine. I forced myself to smile at her and be calm. “Enjoying yourself?” I asked.

“It’s fine,” she replied.

“Is Magnolia all right?”

She met my gaze, hers frank. “Do you care?”

“Yes.”

“She isn’t having a good time, no.”

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Myers had her back turned to the two women and was in conversation with someone else at the table.

“Are they on her a lot?” I asked quietly.

She picked up the wine and met my eyes again. “They’re horrible. Total bitches. Usually, it’s behind her back, but I guess tonight they’re enjoying themselves.” She sighed. “Everything is said with a smile or a laugh, but the meaning is clear.”

“Why hasn’t she come to me?”

She blinked. “You’d have to ask her.” She took a sip. “Would you do something?”

That was the million-dollar question. I never got involved in office politics. Relationships.

Ever. Everyone knew that.

“Yes,” I repeated.

She nodded. “Good.”

I sat, fuming, unsure what to do. I had pulled Rylee to the side in a quiet spot, and she’d confessed to what had happened the other day. The horrid things Myers had heard them say about her. Me as well, but I didn’t care about that part. I recalled Myers’s hidden distress. How she carried on, working, refusing to quit, to give in to the hurt I knew she felt.

She was incredibly brave and strong.

All through the awards, I stewed, jolting in surprise when my name was announced as the winner for a project I had worked on for over a year. My partners clapped me on the shoulder, and I went to the dais to accept my award. I kept my remarks brief, never enjoying the spotlight. But as I stood there, my gaze flitted to Magnolia again. She was smiling at me, for the first time this evening looking like herself. She was so pleased for me that it made me smile. And I suddenly decided I had a few words to add.

“So, my gratitude to everyone involved, especially those at Balanced Designs. And one last thank-you, if you’ll permit me. Although you weren’t with me at the time, a special mention to my assistant, Magnolia Myers. You have done exactly what you promised to do at your interview. My office has never run so seamlessly. I would, indeed, be lost without you. Your work is above excellent.” With a quick nod, I left the stage amid the polite applause. Walking to the table, I looked over. Myers was in shock, Rylee winked at me, and the two bitches were speechless. I’d go so far as to say furious.

Deciding my job was done, I shook a few hands, tossed back the last of my drink, and left.

But I wasn’t done.

Not by a long shot.