Chapter Ten
C athy paused outside the door to Stone’s office. Despite all the time they’d spent together, she was nervous. Probably because today was different. She was no longer just a friend, or someone he was helping out while she recovered from the accident. Today she was his employee.
“I can do this,” she whispered. She’d repeated the phrase at least a hundred times over the past couple of days.
So far she wasn’t convinced, but she figured it had to sink in sometime and start working.
She would be successful because the alternative was unthinkable.
This mattered too much—she wasn’t going to let herself fail.
She smoothed down the front of her tailored slacks.
She’d bought a couple of pairs, along with some simple blouses and a pair of nice leather flats.
The clothes were a far cry from her usual oversize jeans and T-shirts.
The combination of low-fat food and Pepper’s exercise program showed on her slimmer figure.
Between that and her new haircut, she felt almost pretty. Perhaps for the first time in her life.
“Good thing,” she said softly. “Today I’m going to need all the confidence I can get!”
With that she knocked firmly on Stone’s office door and stepped inside.
He was already working. He glanced up and smiled.
Cathy’s stomach reacted with a predictable leap up against her ribs.
She sighed. So much for getting used to being around him, she thought.
Every time she thought she had the situation under control, something happened to change it.
This time her nerves were a combination of first-day tension and lingering memories of the kiss they’d shared.
“Good morning,” he said, and glanced at his watch. “It’s barely eight, Cathy. I didn’t expect you this early.”
She shrugged and stepped into his office.
“I wasn’t sure what time you wanted me to start and I knew you would be here first thing.
” According to Ula, the man barely slept.
He didn’t drink, didn’t eat much. Work was his life.
Cathy had begun to wonder if the reason for that was work was all Stone could trust.
“Why don’t we compromise on eight-thirty as a regular starting time,” he said as he rose to his feet.
“I would rather you stayed late than came in early. I have people on the East Coast to take care of the market opening, but not enough staff to cover the international comings and goings in the Far East. This way.”
He led her to a side door. She followed him into another room. “You’ll work here,” he said.
Cathy glanced around in amazement. She hadn’t really thought about what it would be like working for Stone. She’d known she would be busy, but she hadn’t dwelled on the question of if she would have a desk or not. She certainly hadn’t expected a whole office just for her.
The space was smaller than his, but there were large windows and the view was amazing.
An L-shaped desk dominated the room. The short leg contained a computer complete with a printer.
Against the far wall were several filing cabinets, along with copy and fax machines.
Opposite the door to his office was another door.
“That leads to the conference room,” he said. “Should you need to hold a meeting here, it’s very convenient. Try to give Ula a day’s notice if you want a meal served, although she’s great about throwing something together at the last minute.”
Cathy was stunned. Her head felt as if it were spinning, and she was having trouble concentrating on what he was saying. If she wanted to hold a meeting? Oh, sure, she did it all the time. Tons of meetings, just her and her laptop back at the answering service.
Doubts flooded her. What on earth had she been thinking?
She didn’t know anything about the world of investments or finance.
She couldn’t fake her way through this. Stone was crazy if he thought she wasn’t going to completely mess up everything.
She had to come clean and let him know that he’d made a mistake.
But she didn’t want to. Maybe it was wrong, but she really needed this chance.
What if she could do it? What if she was smarter than she thought, or the work wasn’t that hard or any variations on that theme?
What if this was exactly what it felt like—the opportunity of a lifetime?
She didn’t dare walk away. She might never get another chance.
“We’re going to start you out slow,” Stone told her as he walked to the computer and patted the top of the monitor.
“I thought this morning you could answer some correspondence for me. I write my own memos and E-mail.” He grinned.
“This is the nineties, after all. But these are official letters, so I prefer to have them done. I’ve left you notes and some samples so you can see the format. ”
He leaned forward and shuffled through the papers. Cathy watched him. The light-colored shirt he wore emphasized his dark good looks. She’d been around him so much, she barely noticed the scars on this face. As always he took her breath away.
Suddenly he straightened and stared at her. “I never thought to ask. Are you familiar with computers?”
She sent up a prayer of thanks for her lone indulgent purchase a little over a year ago.
“Yes, I had a laptop. It was damaged in the fire. Eddie’s getting it repaired for me.
” She moved to the desk and sat down. After feeling around on the front of the machine, she found the On switch and pressed it. The machine hummed to life.
“Good,” Stone said. “After you finish the letters, I’d like you to organize some information for me.
” He pointed to a stack of folders on the floor next to her desk and grimaced.
“I know, it’s a mess. I’ve been meaning to get to them for the past couple of months and I haven’t found the time.
I’d like you to design a spreadsheet. One file for each client.
I don’t have any idea on the best way to sort the information, so I’ll leave that up to you. ”
He looked around. “I guess that’s everything. Oh, there’s a small service room across the hall. Ula keeps the refrigerator stocked with snacks and soda. There’s coffee and mugs. Let her know if you want anything else.”
“Thanks, I will.”
He gave her another smile. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”
With that, he was gone.
Cathy stared after him until he’d closed the door between their two offices, then she leaned back in her chair and covered her face with her hands.
Now what? She didn’t have the first idea about where to start.
The letters would be easy. When she’d first bought her laptop, the computer store had offered a couple of hours of free instruction so she could learn how to use different software programs. But a spreadsheet?
She remembered a little about what the instructor had showed her on those, but not enough to be proficient.
“Start with what you know,” she told herself. “Try or leave. There’s no middle ground.”
She straightened in her chair. “Right,” she said. “I’ll do my best. No one can ask for more.”
She moved the mouse until the arrow pointed toward “Programs,” then she clicked. She read the display and was pleased when she realized the word-processing program was the one she was familiar with.
It took her an hour to write the letters and print them out.
Fifteen minutes of searching yielded manuals for the various programs along with the physical equipment.
She read the section on printing out envelopes, then took care of that.
After a quick break for coffee, during which she found that Ula had left her fresh fruit and nonfat yogurt, she returned to her office and tackled the pile of folders on the floor.
The task was less daunting than she’d first thought.
After sorting them by type of client—individuals versus corporate—and reading through Stone’s notes, she designed a simple spreadsheet to track the requested information.
She was hard at work on entering data on the third account when their common door opened and he walked into her office.
“You look busy,” he said.
“I’m trying.” She pointed to the neat pile of letters on the corner of her desk. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to bring those in to you or wait for you to ask for them. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Good idea.” The praise was absentminded as he leafed through the letters. “Nice work. Very clean style.”
His praise made her glow.
He walked around the desk and peered over her shoulder. “What did you decide about these accounts? Hmm.” He moved the mouse and clicked to expose more of the spreadsheet.
Cathy waited, her throat tight, her stomach doing its usual line dance under her ribs. This wasn’t all about Stone’s close proximity, although she could feel the warmth of his body as his shoulder pressed against her arm. It was also because she wanted him to be pleased with her work.
“I wouldn’t have thought of sorting them this way,” he said as he straightened. “I like your way better. It’s simple and to the point. I’ll have everything I need without flipping through pages. Well done.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks.” She fingered the pile of folders left. “I should have these finished by the end of the day.”
He waved aside her comment. “You can get to them in the morning. This afternoon you have a couple of notebooks to work through. Human resources insists that all new employees complete an orientation. There might even be a video. To be honest, I can’t remember.
Then there’s the piles of paperwork for the government and our records, not to mention picking the health-insurance package you want. ”
“Just like a real job,” she teased.
“Exactly.” He moved around to the single chair opposite hers and sat. “Speaking of real jobs, how did your former employer take the news of your resignation?”