8. Chapter Eight #3
Margaret opened the file, scanning for the balance with her index finger.
The layout was simple, and it didn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for.
Her finger stopped at the total—thirty-five dollars.
Margaret carried the file to the secretarial desk and picked up the telephone.
Channeling a professional demeanor, she relayed the balance to the woman.
Women having careers was becoming more common, and the thrill of being independent and making her own money would be a marvelous distraction from the drama at home with Grandmama and her matchmaking.
Margaret turned her head and jumped back when she saw Mr. McKinley, nearly dropping the telephone. His eyes darted towards her, cold and narrowed. His face was pinched as if he’d explode any moment. Margaret gulped.
“Have a nice day, ma’am.” No sooner had she spoken than Mr. McKinley appeared in front of her, his face a deep shade of red. Before Margaret could open her mouth and ask about the matter, he snatched the file from her hands.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he shouted, pointing in her face. “I have worked day and night organizing this place, and you poke your nose where it doesn’t belong!”
Heat coursed through Margaret’s veins. The nerve! What right did this man have to shout at her in such a manner? He should be thanking her. He wasn’t around to take the call, and she was.
“Excuse me, sir, but you were unavailable to take that poor woman’s call. You should be grateful for my assistance.”
“Grateful?” Mr. McKinley hissed. “You have no idea what you have done!” He pointed in her face again, his nostrils flaring with each sharp intake of breath. “I swear if you messed everything up, it’ll be your hide.”
“Mr. McKinley!”
Margaret looked over her shoulder to see her father approaching.
His lips pressed into a thin line, the corners turned downward in a scowl.
Margaret’s father pushed Mr. McKinley back and stepped between them, his cheeks flushed crimson.
“What right do you have to speak to my daughter in such a manner? Have you no respect?”
The muscles in Mr. McKinley’s face loosened.
His gaze switched to the ground, taking in a deep breath.
“I-I am sorry, Mr. Nicholson.” He looked back at Margaret, resuming his previous attitude.
He shot her a cold stare. “But your daughter has disrupted the order of this office. She has taken a file and a call without permission. Client matters are strictly confidential.”
Daddy’s eyes softened. “Margaret, is this true?”
Margaret’s heartbeat moved to her throat.
She bit her lip, frightened of what her father might say.
He was nothing like Mr. McKinley, so surely he wouldn’t act the same.
Being spoken to in such a manner when she was trying to help reminded her she was nowhere close to a woman of independence, let alone a woman of purpose.
“Yes, Daddy, but the phone rang, and the woman was desperate to know her balance. I couldn’t let her wait. And as for the files, I will put them back, I promise.”
Her father turned to the sour-faced Mr. McKinley. "Well, I see no harm done.”
Mr. McKinley’s lips flattened. “But those files are private. She is an outsider.”
“And you lost your place,” snapped Margaret’s father.
“I should fire you here and now, but from what I have observed about you before this incident, I see you are committed and passionate about your work. I could use that.” His brows raised as he scratched his chin. “You lost your secretary, right?”
“Last week.”
“Well then. I don’t see why we can’t hire my daughter. After all, she did know how to act.”
Hire me? Margaret’s heart thumped hard against her chest. She had never been hired for anything, and from speaking to the woman and offering assistance, she enjoyed what she did.
During those moments, she hadn’t thought once about her duty at home.
That moment took her focus elsewhere, and helping her father and gaining experience in the working world would be an excellent distraction.
Also, she wouldn’t have to husband hunt with her grandmother.
Scouting for eligible bachelors was worse than shopping, but she’d have to do so to gain the fortune.
Margaret bit her lip. But if I’m distracted, it’s like it never happened.
Being here could allow me to be someone else.
“What do you say, Margaret?” her father asked.
Before Margaret could answer, Mr. McKinley interrupted her. “She has no experience.”
Margaret wanted to groan aloud. Mr. McKinley’s character was starting to drain her energy. Couldn’t he forgive her this once? They were just a few files, for goodness’ sake. All she had to do was alphabetize them again.
“I can learn.”
Mr. McKinley rolled his eyes.
Margaret’s father faced Mr. McKinley and shook his hand. “Until tomorrow, sir.”
“Until tomorrow.”
Margaret attempted to lighten the tension with a warm and friendly smile. “I look forward to working with you, Mr. McKinley.”
But every word was a lie. If she wasn’t careful, this man could be the death of her, but she wasn’t going to give up. She would become the best secretary he’d ever had—so good he’d beg her to stay.