Chapter 1 – Anna #2
My eyes widened. “And you need a college degree for that?”
“I didn’t say you needed one, I was simply noting you didn’t have one. I guarantee you everyone out there in that lobby-”
“Empty lobby,” I corrected him.
“Everyone who had been in that lobby had a college degree, if not an MBA.”
“To bring you coffee?” I rolled my eyes. “That’s crazy.”
“Not really,” he said, planting his elbows on the desk. “They want the opportunity to work for me.”
“You’re a bigwig?” I surmised.
“Some might say. You don’t know who I am?”
I saw the sign outside the office door. E.G.A. Associates. It didn’t mean anything to me. I figured it was the initials of the person who owned what I thought was a marketing company.
I shook my head. “E.G.A. Edward. George-”
“Evan. Evan Grant Allen. That’s who I am.”
“That’s an impressive name,” I admitted. “My name is very not impressive. I’m a little jealous. Of your name. It’s Anna, by the way. You were pretty quick on that first no, so maybe you didn’t catch it on the resume. Anna Flowers.”
“Anna Flowers is your name?” he asked, like he didn’t believe it. “You sound like a Disney princess.”
“Not sure I’ve heard that one before,” I said, dryly.
I’d basically heard that one every time I’d ever told anyone my full name. Mostly it made me want to stab people. But I refrained today. He hadn’t called security to kick me out of his office so far, and I was going to take that as a win.
“What if you gave me a chance? A real chance to interview for this job,” I suggested.
His left eyebrow lifted. “You couldn’t get the office suite number correct and you think you deserve a chance?”
He wasn’t wrong. “What I lack in number retention I make up for with tenacity. Besides, you don’t have anyone left to interview unless you start over tomorrow. And I have to say, you were going through candidates pretty quickly.”
Another scowl. It made the wrinkles line up on his forehead.
“I can tell almost immediately when something is going to work or not,” he said. “I only need the one question.”
I lifted my hands and made the universal sign for bring it.
He stopped scowling then. “You want me to ask you this question?”
“I’m here. I’m one hundred percent confident I can be your assistant. I’m not a crier. Nothing scares me. And I’ve already told you I’m desperate for the job, which is a pretty good motivator for success. What’s the big question that’s going to trip me up?”
He paused for a second and I could tell he was about to act against his instincts. He leaned back in his chair away from the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. He wore a charcoal gray knit sweater. Nothing too fancy, but I bet it cost a mint.
“Fine. Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Cake,” I said, assessing the difficulty of the question. “Alive, with shelter and food.”
“That’s your answer?” he laughed, clearly surprised. “You want to be alive, have shelter and food. In five years?”
“You would be amazed how many people take that for granted. I don’t.”
It must have been my tone. More serious, less snarky. But he seemed to understand I wasn’t being flippant.
He reached out over the desk and plucked my resume back out of my hand.
“If you’d given me a paper cut, I would have sued,” I told him.
He ignored that and took a moment to actually read it.
“You waitress now?”
“I did, yes. At a diner.”
“And you left because…”
He’d caught me lying pretty quickly the last time, so I lead with the truth. “Remember those parameters I spoke about earlier? The manager wanted me to break a few of them. I chose not to and he fired me.”
“You were fired,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“For not doing what your manager asked?”
“For not giving him a blow job after closing. Yes, that’s why I was fired.”
Startled by the use of such a sexually blunt term, he frowned after a second. “You know there are laws…”
My head tilted and he stopped talking.
I was twenty-two. Desperate. I clearly had no money. There weren’t laws for me and he knew it.
“This is a mistake,” he muttered to himself.
It wouldn’t be the first one he’d made when it came to me.
“This is a waste of your time, my time…” His fingers tapped along the edge of his desk. “Fuck it. You’re hired.”
He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a folder.
“In here is your employment contract, your NDA, as well as the name and number of the headhunter I’ve been using to recruit candidates. Call her at that number, she’ll walk you through the paperwork so you understand what you’re signing. Be here and ready to start next Monday at eight am.”
I swallowed and took the folder. This was the part where I offered my undying loyalty or said something noble like I wouldn’t let him down. Or he wouldn’t regret this. However, he didn’t seem like the type who needed that kind of fluff.
“Coffee order?” I asked.
“Grande nitro cold brew with vanilla cold foam.”
“Caffeine much?” He scowled. Right. No commentary needed. “Solid choice.”
“Monday, Flowers. And don’t be late.”
A small salute to acknowledge I’d heard him, and I was out of there before he could change his mind.
I waited until I hit the parking lot before I let the truth of what had just happened settle in.
Forget the coincidence of it all. The man had no memory of me and I’d made it through the past year by doing my very best to not remember the day before.
A job. I had a job. An actual job. He’d said I was hired.
It occurred to me I hadn’t asked him how much it paid. It didn’t matter. It had to be enough to keep the room at the crappy motel where I was currently staying.
That was shelter.
As for food, I could eat really cheaply. Intermittent fasting. I had that sucker nailed.
Then I remembered the folder he’d given me. He’d said something about an employment contract. No doubt the salary would be listed there. I flipped opened the folder and found the number at the bottom of the contract.
That’s when I almost passed out.