16. Do You Need Someone To Hold Your Hand?
DO YOU NEED SOMEONE TO HOLD YOUR HAND?
AIDEN
Monday morning arrives bright and sunny, and I drag myself into work. After last nights exchange with my father, the last thing I want to do is talk to him, but I can’t really avoid him when he walks into my office five minutes after I arrive.
“I’ve asked Celeste to arrange your car,” he says, not even bothering to say hello when he takes a seat on the other side of my desk.
I swallow the mouthful of coffee I was taking when he wandered in. “Great,” I reply, unable to inject any enthusiasm into my voice.
He is, of course, oblivious. “And I’m arranging for you to attend the conference in Singapore on my behalf.”
I pause in the process of raising my coffee to my mouth again. “What do you mean, on your behalf? I thought I was going as well as you?”
He shakes his head. “No. I can’t be away from the family that long and I think it would be more beneficial for you to attend than me. I’ve been to so many of those over the years.”
I regard him for a moment, a cold feeling of dread settling in the pit of my stomach. I’m nowhere near ready to attend a conference solo, let alone as the replacement for someone who has been in the industry for forty years.
I’m so focused on my own concerns that I miss what he says next. Not that he really requires a response from me. As far as he’s concerned, this is a done deal.
“I can’t go alone,” I say, interrupting him while he’s saying something about accommodation.
“What do you mean? Do you need someone to hold your hand?” he asks, frowning.
Yes .
“No. But I’ve only been in the industry for a month. If you’re set on me going, I don’t want to embarrass the company. So I’d like to take someone with me who has more knowledge.”
He considers my words for a moment, which surprises me, as he very rarely takes into account what I have to say on any subject.
“Well, we do get two tickets for each office. Who do you suggest?”
I hesitate, glancing out through the glass towards Tara’s desk, glimpsing her red bun over the top of the computer monitor.
Would he even consider sending an assistant broker?
I feel like this would be the perfect opportunity for her, but maybe I should suggest Damien?
Oh, who am I kidding - there’s no way I’ll be suggesting anyone other than my slightly prickly, very attractive assistant.
“What about Tara?” I ask finally.
He doesn’t reply straight away, studying my face closely while he thinks.
“Why Tara? She’s good at her job, I’ll give her that. But she’s never shown any interest in furthering her career.”
I’m too stunned to respond immediately. He truly is oblivious to the goings on in this office. In the month I’ve worked here, it’s clear that Tara’s talents are wasted in her role. Even the most experienced brokers in the office go to her for advice when they come up against road blocks.
“I think you’d be surprised. She is far overqualified for her job. If anything, I should be her assistant.”
Dad looks horrified at the notion. “I think that’s going a bit far. But if you think it would benefit you, I’ll have Danielle make the arrangements,” he says, referring to his personal assistant who has worked for him for as long as I can remember and basically runs this place.
That woman must have the patience of a saint.
I nod, determination setting in. “I think it would benefit Tara to come along.”
He scowls a little, obviously not loving the fact that I’m advocating so strongly for the advancement of someone else’s career, but I don’t care. And hopefully, Tara will be distracted by the conference and won’t notice the company car.
He leaves my office soon after, promising to have Danielle send through all the details once everything is booked.
I turn back to my computer, staring at my over flowing inbox with a sinking feeling.
Most of the client questions are still over my head, and I wonder if I’m ever going to get the hang of this.
Or if I even want to. Insurance is so boring, and I just can’t see myself doing this for the rest of my life.
It’s not like I have any other prospects though, and it pays well.
Probably better than it should, to be honest. I’m not stupid, I know that the pay I’m on far exceeds the experience I have.
I can only imagine how it would feel to be in the position of someone like Damien or Tara and have the boss’s son just step into a higher paid position, and have to explain everything to them.
I’d probably be bitter about it, and can completely understand the resentment Tara has held towards me.
Will she consider this opportunity as a good thing, or be angry that I advocated for her?
Only one way to find out.
“Tara?” I call through the open door.
“Yeah?” She looks up, those big green eyes blinking at me slowly over the top of the computer monitor. The look on her face tells me she was in the middle of something important and isn’t loving the interruption.
I swallow hard. She still intimidates the hell out of me at work, but the little glare does all sorts of things to my insides. My god, I really need to get laid, because I’m now fantasising ways to fuck the look off her face.
“Can you come in here for a sec?”
At least she manages to hold in her sigh this time while she gets to her feet and comes to sit in the chair in front of me. “What’s up?”
“How was the rest of your evening?” I ask, figuring I’d start with some small talk.
She shrugs. “Fine.”
Okay, so we’re done with the small talk. I guess the events of the weekend still haven’t won her over to my side. I’d thought that the walk home last night had thawed her out a little, but it looks like that was just wishful thinking.
I clear my throat. “So, we’re going to Singapore.”
She cocks her head to the side. “What?”
Honestly, I’ve had better conversations with a brick wall. “Dad has asked us to attend the conference in Singapore next month on his behalf.”
She’s quiet for far too long. “Really?” she asks, her tone incredulous.
“Yes.”
“I get why he’s sending you, being his son and all. But why me? I’ve never been to anything like that. I’ve had to beg to get to local ones that I need to attend to get my points each year, and that’s a requirement of my job.” She crosses her arms and lifts her chin.
Always so defensive. I really should not be picturing myself pinning her against the wall to kiss her senseless right now .
“I told him I believed you’d benefit from attending as well, and he agreed,” I say, embellishing slightly.
She doesn’t seem to believe me, going by the raised eyebrow, but nods slowly. “Okay.”
I pause, waiting for her to continue speaking, but when that seems to be all she has to say, I let out a breath. “Okay.”
“Is that all?” she asks.
“Ugh, yeah. Although… could you help me with replying to some of these emails?” I ask, really wishing I didn’t have to ask.
I swear, she’s about to sigh, but seems to remember the last conversation we’d had about that, as she pulls herself back. “Fine. Flag the ones you need help with and I’ll rearrange my day.”
She leaves without looking back, and I slump back into my chair, feeling like I’ve just gone three rounds in a boxing match.
What is it about this woman that drives me so crazy? Why am I letting her intimidate me when I’m technically her superior?
I decide it’s best not to think on that too much and get to work flagging emails and praying she doesn’t notice that I’m still struggling.