Chapter 12
Bea
I’m questioning myself for the tenth time in the past two minutes while clearing up the desk from the previous person who worked here. It’s not a lot to begin with—I don’t think they were here long enough to make the desk homey.
But I intend to do just that. I’ll stick around no matter how much Mr. Jerk doesn’t want me around.
Julian mentioned the possibility of increased pay if I stay here longer than my predecessor.
Even though Martin thinks I can’t keep my mouth shut to save my life, I actually can when it really matters.
And now it matters. I don’t want to leave Maeve, the only family I have left, especially after we just reconnected.
Because that is what will happen if I can’t find a well-paying job.
It’s either this or moving into a cardboard box and becoming homeless but proud.
When Maeve’s old friend Jeff was homeless, he managed to live in one. Maybe I can too.
I didn’t take anything with me today because I didn’t know where I’d be assigned—the beauty of being a temp is that every single day is a surprise.
I’ll make it work today, but tomorrow I’ll bring my own mug.
Every single personal item will be used in this battle against the caveman. I’ll kill him with coziness.
The computer screen comes to life after a click of the mouse, asking for a password.
Which I don’t have. Or a profile. Or anything really.
I didn’t have any introductions, so I’ll have to make it work as it is.
I bet King thinks I’ll sit here and cry, but I’ll show him what I’m made of. I’ll cry later at home.
Picking up the stationary phone, I dial the HR department—thanks to the written directory on the plastic.
“Yes, Molly,” comes a tired voice.
“Ehm, it’s not Molly. It’s Beatrice.”
There’s a silence followed by a heavy sigh. “Did it happen again?”
“If you mean did Mr. King fire his previous assistant, then yes.”
A long curse is all I need to know about what this poor HR person thinks about the situation. “And who are you again?”
“Beatrice.” I intentionally drop my last name because I don’t want to be associated with it in case anyone is familiar with my family. I also don’t want to be treated any differently if they know I’m related to Maeve. “I was sent from the temp floor.”
“Sent?”
“Well, walked. Julian walked me here from the temp floor.”
There’s another very pregnant pause before she speaks again. “Did anyone give you a rundown?”
“Not really,” I reply a little hesitantly. I’m not familiar with how the hiring process works in big corporations, but I’m sure I should at least be told the rules. And telling me how my boss takes his coffee does not top the list. “I’m a temp, so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
“Did you sign the papers at the agency?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, give me a second.” I hear clicking on the keyboard before her attention returns to the conversation. “Okay. Good. Wait, Beatrice Wrong? Any relation to—” She lets the thought trail off, and I’m not sure what she’s referring to, my family or my sister.
So I quickly reply, “No.”
“O-kay then. I’ll be there in a few.” And before she hangs up, she adds, “Please, try not to interact with him before I’m there. Let me at least talk to you first.”
I’m checking the drawers when a short lady in her late forties shows up from the corridor. She’s wearing an outfit similar to mine, but hers is finished with thick-rimmed black glasses and red pumps. Her angular cut bob liquidly moves with every step. I instantly like her for no particular reason.
“Hello, Beatrice. I’m Esther. Sorry for your first day being not without a hiccup.” She winces a little saying that. “May I?” she asks, pointing at the chair opposite from me.
“Of course!” I quickly reply, mentally reminding myself that I probably should have stood up when she came to the desk. My manners fail me these days.
“Okay, your agency paperwork is signed. I have some extra papers for you to sign. Here.” She pushes two folders my way.
I open the first one. It’s an NDA. A very thick one. I wiggle my ass on the chair, place my elbows on the table, and start reading.
“What are you doing?” comes her curious voice.
“Reading,” I reply calmly. “You don’t expect me to sign this,” I point at the folder in front of me, “without reading, do you?”
A faint smile graces her lips. “Wouldn’t dare. Please, read away.”
It takes me some time to get through the document before I take the pen and sign it.
It’s a harsh NDA with them pretty much taking my kidney, liver, and firstborn if I breach it.
Since I don’t plan on shouting about my business anywhere, I don’t feel scared.
The next folder is about me not being eligible for benefits that regular hires get because I’m a temp.
I also have my suspicion that being a temp to Noah King takes on a whole new meaning.
“No benefits?” I ask just in case.
“No.” Her face saddens a little.
“Including basic insurance?”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.” I scribble my name on the document and push it toward her.
“Thank you. Hopefully you can stay and get the permanent position.”
“I doubt that.”
She looks at me with watchful eyes. “I don’t.” Then she quickly pushes a big piece of paper to me. “Here’s all the login information you’ll need. Noah’s assistants are usually not assigned a special email address, so they use the same one, and we just change the password, or it can get messy.”
She doesn’t need to explain why—I bet they don’t last long enough to have an email.
“If you have any questions, you can call me. My direct number is on the list too.”
I check the list and indeed find her name. She’s the head of HR.
“I think I can maybe call your assistant if I need something?”
“Call me.” She points her long, black nail at the paper.
“Dealing with your problems is easier than hiring another temp for him. Call me,” she repeats firmer.
Then she leans toward me over the table.
“Now. He can be an asshole, but a very talented one. No matter what anyone else says, this company wouldn’t exist without him.
Him building things is what keeps the world interested in King Developers. I know he can be difficult. I know.”
I want to argue—just a little—but she raises her hand to stop me.
“But I have faith that you can hold your own against him. Please, don’t let me down. I really don’t want to deal with another temp.” She stands up, rolling her big eyes. “Call me.” With that, she heads down the corridor and away.
That’s it. This is all the briefing I get before I’m released on my own to deal with the evident terror that is Noah King.
Here we go.