Chapter 9
Riley
“Morning, Riley. Can you believe it’s Monday already?”
I tucked my purse under my desk and sank into my chair, smiling at Farah. “The weekend always goes by too quickly. Is that a new hijab? I love the colour.”
Farah touched the burgundy fabric before grinning at me. “Thank you. So, is he here yet?” She leaned her hip against my desk and stared at the office door of my new boss.
“No, not yet,” I said.
Farah scanned the empty hallway before lowering her voice. “Rumour is that this Rainer guy is not that friendly and has really high standards and expectations for his employees, but he’s super smart and a highly competent CFO, which is why Aiden hired him.”
The knot in my stomach grew a little tighter. Farah was Aiden’s PA, and if anyone would have the inside scoop, it was her. I hated to admit it, but I was sensitive, and an unfriendly boss would make my life a nightmare.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself it was exactly like Jamie said - we didn’t come to work for hugs and kisses. I would do my job well and give Mr. Rainer nothing to be unhappy about.
Farah gave me a reassuring smile. “Don’t stress about it, Riley. You’re fantastic at your job, and I know he’ll love you. You always impress Aiden when you cover for me, and that’s basically a miracle. Amanda says Aiden is much better than when Lina was his assistant, but he has crazy high standards, too, and can still be a little… difficult to work with. But he’s never had a single complaint when you cover my vacation days. I know you’ll impress the new guy just as much.”
“Thank you, Farah, that makes me feel a little better,” I said.
Farah was right - Aiden wasn’t what I would call friendly, but he’d always been polite, if not a little distant, and I’d managed to work with him just fine. I could and would adapt to Mr. Rainer’s working style, too.
Farah grinned at me. “Sometimes I wish I’d worked here back in the day. Amanda says Aiden has mellowed out considerably since he married Lina, but there used to be a lot of drama with Aiden going through a PA every few months.”
I laughed but secretly was glad I hadn’t been there for that. Conflict made me anxious even when I wasn’t involved in it. By the time I’d been hired as Jamie’s PA, Aiden and Lina were already married, she was pregnant with Noah, and Farah had been Aiden’s PA for over a year.
Farah straightened. “Hey, a few of us are going to Ricardo’s for lunch today. Do you want to join us?”
“Oh, I can’t,” I said. “Maybe next time?”
“Sure.” Farah left, and I pushed away my self-pity. So what if I couldn’t afford lunch with my coworkers? My mother’s health was more important.
My phone dinged and I grabbed it from my purse, my eyes widening when I saw the text from Celeste.
Celeste
Darling, I deposited your payment for yesterday. Thank you again for the last-minute accommodation. Mr. Steele was very pleased with you again, and he’s asked to book you for Wednesday night. Are you available?
Excitement and disbelief making my hands shake, I quickly texted back.
Riley
Yes. I can do Wednesday night. Thank you, Celeste.
Celeste
Thank you, darling. Also, Mr. Steele has requested no waxing. Of course, it’s your body and your choice, but remember that the happier you make the client, the more often they’ll book with you. Oh, and the extra hundred I deposited is a tip from Mr. Steele. Enjoy!
I made a soft squeal of excitement and quickly opened my banking app. I stared at the money in my bank account with relief and surprise. I was certain Mr. Steele would never book with me again after my spectacular failure last night.
I couldn’t stop staring and smiling at my bank account. I’d send the money to my parents, but this time, I would keep the tip and go for my pasta dinner. And I would be Mr. Steele’s perfect good girl on Wednesday night and maybe get another hundred dollar tip. That would be enough to get me a cheap pair of glasses from one of those online places. It’d been a little embarrassing that Mr. Steele had noticed me squinting.
Before I could put my phone away, it dinged again with an incoming text from my father. I hated the way I tensed, hated the feeling of dismay that went through me. Maybe he wouldn’t be reaching out for money this time. It was unkind of me to feel resentful that I only heard from him when he needed something. He was very stressed and worried about my mother, and even before she got sick, I wasn’t exactly a priority for him.
Unkind, Riley!
I opened his text, unsurprised when it was exactly what I expected.
Dad
Hi Riley. I hate to ask, as I know you’ve already sent extra money this month, but your mother mentioned you took a second job, and I could use some extra cash to fix the air conditioning in the car.
Riley
Hi Dad. Is it something you could go a little longer without? I was just about to Venmo some money to Mom, but it was for her chemo.
Dad
I know, but it’s so hot here, and it’s hard on your mom when we’re driving to her appointments. If you could send a little extra, that would be great. You don’t want Mom to be uncomfortable, do you?
Riley
Of course not. I’ll send what I have right now.
Dad
Perfect! I have to run, Ry.
I stared at my dad’s message. Great, there went everything I’d made. No delicious pasta or new glasses for me.
Shame rocketed through me at my selfish thoughts, and I quickly sent the money to my mother. The time on my phone caught my eye, and I grimaced. I’d spent the last five minutes doing personal stuff during work time, and my strict work ethic gnawed at my conscience.
I tucked my phone into my purse and turned toward my monitor. Thank God my new boss hadn’t arrived yet. I wouldn’t make a very good impression if he…
My inner monologue died out with a whimper when I saw the man standing only a few feet from my desk. He was about my height, with short red hair, brown eyes, and the pale skin of a natural redhead. His charcoal-coloured suit fit him perfectly, his Gucci loafers had a mirror shine, and he stared at me with undisguised contempt. Oh fuck. How long had he been standing there?
I jumped to my feet, wiping my suddenly sweaty palms on my skirt before holding out my hand. “You must be Mr. Rainer. I’m Riley Gates.”
He stared silently at me, and after a few seconds, I awkwardly dropped my hand and said, “I’m your assistant.”
“I’m aware.” His voice was curt. “What’s surprising to me is that I’ve stood here for,” he glanced at the Rolex on his wrist, “four minutes and twenty-two seconds while you texted on your phone. Do employees here regularly communicate via text messages, or was this a personal call?”
“Personal, but I promise this isn’t something I do regularly. My mother is -”
He held up his hand. “Stop. Let’s make something clear, Ms. Gates. I am not a friend or acquaintance. I am your boss, and your personal life does not interest or concern me. Keep your interactions with me limited to work discussions only. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said as embarrassment rolled across me like a hot wave of sand.
He studied me silently as I fidgeted and tried to ignore the scorn radiating from him. After an eternity, he said, “You will work an extra four minutes and twenty-two seconds of your lunch to make up the time you wasted this morning. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Good.” He strode into his office and closed the door.
I sank into my seat, tears pricking at my eyes, my guts churning, and my legs rubbery as noodles. Could that have gone any worse?
* * *
I knocked brisklyon Mr. Rainer’s door, opening it as his curt “Come in.” Richard, the company’s controller, sat across from Mr. Rainer’s desk, and he gave me a friendly smile as I hovered near the doorway.
“What is it?” Mr. Rainer asked without looking up from his laptop.
“Your meeting with Mr. Wright starts in fifteen minutes,” I said.
A scowl crossed his face. “I know. You interrupted my meeting with Richard for that?”
“You asked for a reminder, so I -”
“You have an email, do you not, Ms. Gates?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And you are aware of how to send an email?”
“I am.” My face flushed, and the nausea that hadn’t really disappeared since Monday intensified.
“Then perhaps in the future, you could use that knowledge and your common sense to realize that emailing me a reminder is much more efficient and far less disruptive. Do you think that’s something you can manage, Ms. Gates?”
“Yes, sir.” My voice was barely above a whisper, and I didn’t dare look at Richard. The Controller was a nice guy with whom I got along well, and I was miserably ashamed he was witnessing this. I would burst into tears if I saw even a hint of pity in his gaze.
“Good,” Mr. Rainer said dismissively. He turned to Richard. “Did you give her the spreadsheets to merge and format?”
I spoke quickly. “He did. I’m almost -”
Mr. Rainer held up his hand and made a shushing sound like I was a dog being scolded. “I am not speaking to you, Ms. Gates.”
I chewed hard on my bottom lip, ignoring the stinging pain. I’d practically chewed the damn thing raw in the last three days.
I still couldn’t look at Richard but the sympathy in his voice made me want to cry. “I gave it to Riley this morning.”
“Why didn’t you finish it for our meeting?” Mr. Rainer raised his terrible cold gaze to me.
“Oh, I didn’t tell her we needed it for the meeting,” Richard said quickly.
“But common sense would suggest that we could review it during our meeting. Therefore, it should have been Ms. Gates” priority. Don’t you agree, Ms. Gates?”
“Yes.” I sounded like a whipped puppy, and more shame spiralled through me. “I’ve almost finished it and will email it to you in five minutes.”
“My meeting with Richard will be over in three,” he said.
I stood uncertainly by the door for another thirty seconds, my face going red hot when Mr. Rainer glanced at me, sighed impatiently, and flicked his fingers at me. “You’re dismissed.”
I left his office like angry badgers were clawing at my legs and immediately rushed to the bathroom. Despite how hard I tried to hold it in, I was going to cry. I knew that as well as I knew my own name.
I barricaded myself in a stall, buried my face in my hands to muffle the sound, and sobbed. It was Wednesday afternoon, and the last three days had been hell. The terrible first impression I’d made with Mr. Rainer had thrown me off a little, and I’d made a couple of careless mistakes that afternoon that, while ultimately small and unremarkable, had cemented his belief I was a waste of space.
I’d told myself repeatedly that one bad day didn’t mean anything, and after a mostly sleepless Monday night, by Tuesday morning, I’d somewhat convinced myself it was true. I would be perfect all day, and Mr. Rainer would see for himself that I was not only competent at my job but the best damn assistant he’d ever had.
Unfortunately, despite not making a single mistake, Mr. Rainer’s impression of me seemed already set in stone. He was cold and dismissive Tuesday and today and seemed to go out of his way to make me feel small and stupid.
During my lunch break on Tuesday, I”d called Ella, sitting in my car in the parking garage, shivering from the cold while I blubbered my way through an explanation of my new work hell. Her suggestion that Mr. Rainer was probably a dick to everyone he perceived to be below him had helped boost my confidence that afternoon.
Until I overheard him talking to Farah in the kitchen. He’d been friendly and warm and had displayed none of the cold disdain radiating from him whenever he looked in my direction.
This morning, after another mostly sleepless night, I’d stared at the dark circles under my eyes and my swollen and bleeding bottom lip and finally admitted the truth. I’d fucked up with Mr. Rainer, and I had no idea how to fix it.
I hated being like this, but I needed his approval to be happy and fulfilled at my job. It had only been forty-eight hours, and already I was miserable. If I didn’t figure out a way to fix my working relationship with Mr. Rainer, what would I be like in another month, hell, another week?
I’d always been good at my job and somewhat fulfilled my need for praise through my work. If my boss found me incompetent and had nothing but complaints about me, how would I fulfill that need now?
You have Mr. Steele.
I grabbed some toilet paper, wiped my eyes, and blew my nose. Just thinking about Mr. Steele and being on my knees beside him while he stroked my hair in his warm, quiet office helped soothe me. Only a few more hours, and I could forget how badly I was failing here and concentrate on nothing but being his good girl.
I wiped my eyes a final time and left the stall. I washed my hands at the sink and studied my reflection. My face was pale, and my eyes were red with swollen lids. I ran my tongue along my raw bottom lip, wincing at the sting and the metallic taste of blood.
I took a deep breath and dried my hands. “You can do this, Riley. Only a few more hours, and then you’ll be with Mr. Steele.”