In Her Candy Jar: A Romantic Comedy

by Alina Jacobs

  "You want that done tomorrow?" she asked. I noticed a slightly hysterical edge to her tone.

  "Of course," I replied. "While you're at it, survey everyone in the office to see if they want different breakroom snacks."

  "I'm sure they do," she muttered.

  "What was that?"

  "Nothing!" she said in a fake-pleasant tone.

  "You are free to leave after you send me the notes to review," I informed her.

  Josie sighed. "I'll have it done in a few hours."

  "See that you do." My plan seemed to be going well.

  Josie didn't send the notes out until close to midnight. Garrett was in the study with me at the house when Josie's email showed up in my inbox.

  I opened it, expecting to see a mess. Instead it was nicely formatted with pictures and callouts for the conclusions.

  "I see your assistant is working out nicely," Garrett said.

  "I wouldn't say that. This is the only thing she's done right, so don't act so smug."

  Josie was back to her disorganized self the next morning. As I was pulling into the parking lot, she almost ran over me with her tiny house.

  "I can't stop! It doesn't brake easily," I heard her yell through the window. I needed to have a talk with her about not leaving that monstrosity in my parking lot.

  "I'm early today!" she sang as she ran up behind me in the lobby. "I had candy for breakfast, and I am pumped!" I ignored her as she followed me up the stairs.

  Josie stepped in front of me when we walked into my office. "I want to apologize for yesterday. I was acting shitty and unprofessional. I'm going to show you I'm a great assistant. This is the start of a brand-new me!"

  "Your shirt skipped a button," I told her. She looked down at her blouse. I wondered if she was wearing that bra from two days ago when she showed up soaking wet. Then I cut that thought off. Josie was my annoying assistant. I was not thinking about her in that way.

  But I spent the whole morning obsessing over her. My schedule said I was supposed to be reviewing Garrett's latest financial report and preparing for the quarterly presentation. Instead I watched Josie through the glass wall that separated her office from mine. She had dumped out what looked like the entire contents of her purse, and they were piled messily on her desk.

  Phone pressed to her ear, she typed furiously on the keyboard. In between phone calls, she would swear or eat something from the pile of stuff on her desk. As soon as I finally managed to stop wasting my time watching Josie and actually do some work, I heard the unmistakable sound of a phone hitting the floor.

  "Did you break another phone?" I yelled, running into her office.

  "It slipped out of my hand," she shouted. "Why don't you all have cases for these phones?"

  "No one else has had a problem."

  Whoever was on the other end was still talking from the receiver. Josie shushed me and knelt over the phone on the floor.

  "Hello? Hello? Are you still there? Yes, I need to book a block of hotel rooms for September. Yes, for that conference… perfect, thanks!" Josie looked up at me and smiled. "At least I got that done. I made a list," she said proudly, showing me her notes scrawled messily on a scrap of paper. I couldn't even read Josie's handwriting. It looked like gibberish. She crossed out one of the rows of scratched writing.

  "I don't know how you stay organized. Give me the phone," I growled.

  She picked it up, and it basically disintegrated. The battery popped out, and the screen puffed into glittery dust. Josie handed me the phone. "I think I need a new one."

  As I tried to put it back together enough to give to IT, Josie slumped dejectedly in her chair. Her computer glasses were perched on her nose, and tendrils of her curly hair had escaped from the messy bun and hovered in her face. She blew the hair away and shuffled the pile of stuff on her desk.

  Pulling out two mason jars, Josie took out a piece of candy from each and shoved them both in her mouth.

  She swallowed the candy and grinned when she saw me watching. "Admiring my candy jars?" she asked, holding the jars up to her chest. I could see her breasts strain against the fabric of her shirt with the motion.

  "I'm not—"

  She blew me a kiss. "I know you want to taste my candy."

  "I don't eat candy."

  "You'll like my candy," she said, leaning forward, her breasts straining at her shirt. "Go on, just stick your hand in."

  I swallowed. Put my hand in her candy jar? I could feel heat start to creep up my neck. "I hope you aren't implying what I think you are," I said through gritted teeth.

  Josie gasped and hugged the candy jars to her chest. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr. Svensson," Josie said in shock. "I'm merely offering you a piece of candy. I have gummy worms and saltwater taffy. They're all organic and locally made."

  "My apologies," I stammered and hightailed it back to my office. What was I thinking? That was highly inappropriate. What if she filed charges? She could sue. My company could be ruined! I looked through the glass, and I saw Josie smirk as she ate another piece of candy.

  So she was teasing me.

  13

  Josie

  I laughed to myself, thinking about Mace's reaction. He had the face of a man who needed to get laid.

  Josie: I think Mace wants to put his hand in my candy jar

  Willow: Like your actual jar of candy or your you know

  Josie: He wants the candy jar between my legs so to speak

  Willow: I mean it’s not so to speak about anything. You just said he wants to finger you

  Josie: Well yeah… he's a terrible boss, but he IS good looking

  Willow: I thought you were trying to keep this job

  Josie: I am, but I think he wants me to quit

  Willow: I know Tara wants you to quit. She seriously spent 10 minutes this morning complaining about you

  Josie: That woman needs a life

  Willow: I think she thinks Mace is going to be her life. She gushes about him and every other sentence is something he said, did, or thinks and what a great man he is

  Josie: Gag. He's not that great. He's sexy and has a face I'd like to sit on, but he's too inflexible and he is terrible at marketing

  Willow: LOL! He came and did a presentation for us to introduce us to this new product. Worst. Presentation. Ever. I would think it was satire if he wasn't so serious

  Josie: Got to go… speak of the devil

  Tara had come into Mace's office while I was texting Willow. She was perched on Mace's desk and was so obviously flirting with him. She leaned over to touch his collar. I scowled as her glossy hair flicked in his face.

  I poked one of my errant curls back into my bun. Back when I thought Anke was the answer to all my problems, she and I would go to a dry bar to have our hair blown out every week. Now I couldn't afford that luxury, so I had to make do with my natural frizzy hair. All the rain, drinking, and early mornings weren't doing it any favors.

  Tara was still talking to Mace, so I resisted the urge to put my head down and sleep. My sugar high was wearing off fast, and I could feel a crash coming on. My computer pinged with a notification. I read it and smiled.

  Poking my head through the doorway, I ignored Tara and addressed Mace. "Your schedule says you eat lunch right now."

  "Do you want me to have something delivered?" Tara asked brightly.

  "No, thank you," Mace said firmly. "I brought something."

  I smirked at Tara. "I'm sure you have really important marketing director things to do. Don't you worry about Mace's lunch; I'll make sure he's well taken care of."

  Tara shot me a dirty look as she left the office.

  "I'll have everything ready for you soon," I assured Mace.

  I found a tray in one of the cabinets in the breakroom. Mace's lunch was in a glass container in the fridge. I sniffed it. The square dish contained a dense, half-frozen mass of raw fish, quinoa, uncooked vegetables, and strips of dark-green seaweed. It smelled disgusting. I popped it all i
n the microwave for six minutes. That should do it.

  I arranged silverware and a glass of water nicely on the tray.

  "Josie!" Lennie, one of the IT guys, said, sticking his head into the breakroom. "I have a new phone for you. I just need to swap out the old one." He followed me to my office, and I handed him a plastic baggy with the broken phone.

  "Don't you have a case?" I asked him. "I'm terrible with electronics."

  "We can have one ordered," he replied. "Do you have a color preference?"

  Before I could answer, an earsplitting woop woop shrieked out, and the fire-alarm lights flashed in the hallway in time with the siren.

  "I don't think there's supposed to be a fire drill today." Mace poked his head in, concerned. "It may be a real emergency."

  Lenny and I followed Mace out into the hall. As soon as I took a breath, my nostrils were assaulted by the acrid smell of burning fish.

  "Your lunch!" I looked at Mace in horror then ran in the direction of the breakroom.

  "Josie, stop!" Mace shouted.

  Thick black smoke was billowing from the kitchenette when I ran in.

  "Just leave it for the fire department!" Mace yelled as I wrenched opened the microwave door. Coughing, I ignored him and dumped the dish into the sink. It spattered as I turned on the tap.

  "What is wrong with you? Why would you microwave it?" he asked, incredulous, as he waved the smoke out of his face.

  "It was cold, and it looked raw," I explained.

  "It's poke—it's raw fish and rice," he said angrily. "You just mix it together."

  "I've had poke. I'm not a complete idiot," I said defensively. "Poke is expensive tuna, rice, and yummy grilled vegetables. I've never seen poke that looks like something that died on the side of the road."

  I looked out through the glass walls enclosing the breakroom. The fire department arrived. The men in their helmets and bright-yellow gear marched through the open floor plan, their boots clomping on the floor.

  "You need to evacuate in the event of a fire," one of the firemen admonished when he went into the breakroom.

  Mace gestured to me in irritation. "She wouldn't evacuate."

  "It's fine," I assured the fireman. "Just a little cooking accident." Mace shook his head while one of the firemen took a crowbar and wrenched the microwave out of the wall.

  "It doesn't look like it's on fire," he explained, "but better safe than sorry."

  "Cliff's right. There may be an electrical issue. Don't want to burn down this nice facility, right, Mr. Svensson?" another one of the firemen added.

  "Were you microwaving fish?" Cliff asked me.

  "I think it was the seaweed," I said, poking at the mushy blackened food in the sink. "I bet it acted as tinder."

  "She's my new assistant," Mace said. I didn't have to look at him to know he was glowering in my direction.

  "No judgement here!" Cliff said with a chuckle.

  "I'll have some lunch ordered in," I offered meekly.

  "Don't bother." Mace sounded disgusted. "I need to deal with this. Just cancel lunch on my schedule."

  I wish I hadn't. Mace was hungry and angry the rest of the afternoon. He paced around his office, barking on his phone. Periodically he would glare at me through the shared glass wall of our offices. I wished he would leave; I longed to sleep. Waking up early was not normal for me. I couldn't believe Mace started work at seven thirty in the morning.

  "Did you finish anything on your list?" he asked, coming into my office, the irritation visible on his face.

  "I'm still working on the inventory," I explained to him.

  "You need to work faster. Everyone at my company strives for a high level of excellence. Except you."

  That man was so enraging. I gritted my teeth and reminded myself that I needed this job. "I will have this done by tomorrow," I promised.

  His eyes narrowed. "I need you to work on something else first." He came around to my desk and leaned over me, grabbing the computer mouse, and navigated to a folder on the server.

  Being that close to him, I could feel the heat radiating off him, and his masculine scent enveloped me. I started wondering what it would be like if he did stick his hand in my candy jar.

  "Are you even listening?" he asked.

  "Yes," I lied, forcing my attention back to what was displayed on the screen.

  Mace made a disgusted noise. "I have the quarterly presentation to the entire firm. It's broadcast live to all of our offices. You need to polish my script. I already wrote it, and I have the slides done. Just read through all the reports in this folder, and make sure the information is correct. The presentation is tomorrow morning. Be here early because I want to review your work."

  I looked through the material after he left. It was dry and boring, and his presentation deck was basically his script copy-pasted onto each slide, with tiny blurry pictures.

  "Gross. We're just going to delete all of this," I said. Clicking through the server, I found some older presentation recordings. Mace came off as stilted and uninspired. I felt sleepy by the first minute. His voice was professional, but he talked in a convoluted manner. It was worse, though, when he tried to tell a joke.

  "You're like a sad little robot," I said, tapping the image of him on my screen. "Don't worry. We're going to punch up your script. What you have here is not going to work." I bet Tara had had something to do with the presentation. You would think the PharmaTech marketing director would know better, but you would be wrong.

  I loved developing marketing material. The creativity, the graphic design, the wordsmithing to make sure the text was informative, entertaining, and a little funny—it was what I excelled at.

  I worked on Mace's presentation for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.

  "You're still here?" Mace asked, sticking his head through the door that connected our two offices. He seemed surprised. "It's not that difficult."

  "I just want to make sure everything is perfect," I chirped. "Remember I'm going to prove to you that I am an invaluable assistant!"

  I unwrapped a piece of taffy and put it in my mouth. "One for the road?" I asked, holding out another piece to him.

  "No, thank you," he said as he shrugged on his coat.

  "My candy jar is always open!" I called after him. Was I mistaken, or did I see the barest hint of a smile? Not that it mattered—I would be here all night.

  Fortunately my tiny house was on the premises. I made a thermos of instant coffee, took it back to the office, and set to work. PharmaTech had some nice-looking images, but they were buried on the servers. I pulled together the best photos into a presentation, edited together a little background video from some footage I had found, and chose a nice sans serif font to add headers and punctuate key points in the presentation. It was masculine but not aggressively so. I rewrote Mace's text to seem friendlier and more conversational without sacrificing the content that he was trying to deliver.

  It was five in the morning by the time I was satisfied. I ran through the presentation myself out loud to make sure the pacing felt right.

  "Perfect!" I crowed.

  When Mace arrived at the office at his usual time, I had changed, put on fresh makeup, and was perched on his desk, waiting for him with coffee and a breakfast rice cake I had snagged from one of the breakrooms that wasn't wrapped in caution tape.

  14

  Mace

  My morning started poorly. Henry did not want to go to daycare, and it took a while to disentangle him from me. When I finally brought him in, Donna didn't look all that pleased to see him either.

  "Are we going to have a good day today, Henry?" she asked as Henry fought me while I tried to help him out of his coat.

  "No!" he shrieked. "No!"

  "You're late," Garrett remarked when I walked by his office. "Did you prep at all for the presentation? It's in thirty minutes."

  "Has the room been arranged?" I asked him.

  He shrugged. "I thought your assistant was fi
xing it up."

  "So nothing's been done."

  Josie was sitting on my desk when I walked into my office. She was in a pencil skirt with her legs crossed, and she beamed at me when she saw me and uncrossed her legs. I wondered what it would be like to slide my hand up that bare leg and stick my hand in her candy jar.

  She opened her mouth. Her lips were as red as a candy apple.

  "I want you," she said. My whole body jerked. Josie looked at me in bemusement. "I just wanted you to know I didn't sleep last night," she said. "I was here all night."

  I watched her warily as I hung up my overcoat. "Why were you here?"

  "I did what you asked," she said. "Actually I did more than you asked. Rice cake?"

  "No, thanks."

  "But it's healthy!" She took a bite. "Yum, it tastes like cardboard and the tears of children."

  "I don't understand how it took you all night to do one simple task," I said irritably.

  "It wasn't one simple task," she countered. "I had to fix not just your script but your whole presentation. Now everything looks amazing. This is going to be the best presentation of your life."

  Henry making me late had thrown off my schedule, and I was having trouble recalibrating. "The broadcast room needs to be set up," I said, moving around Josie to look for my notes on my desk.

  "Everything's set up already," she said. "Here's your script. Read it over, and familiarize yourself with it."

  I took the papers and scanned through them as we walked to the broadcast room.

  "You aren't going to be reading from it, obviously," Josie said, "so I'll have a teleprompter app on my tablet going in case you forget what you're supposed to say."

  "This isn't right at all!" I complained when I followed Josie into the room we were going to be livestreaming from. "Where's my chair?"

  "You can't sit down at a table hunched over," she countered. "You need to stand up tall. Be confident. We have to go live soon. Did you read over the script?"