“Gutsy,” Mr. Mancini says through a fake cough into his hand.
I refrain from rolling my eyes.
“Well, your time with Mr. Mancini will be more about working on the Coddle pitch. Mr. Jacobson really wants you to have a foot in this campaign. Working for Mr. Mancini will enable you to gain the experience you need to move ahead.”
I absorb what she’s saying. The question is will Enzo Mancini let me in or keep me out in the cold, stealing my ideas as though they’re his own? “Mr. Beardsman is out today. He’s sick.”
Shelby smiles. “Perfect. That gives you time to get settled here.”
“Am I supposed to move all my stuff from my desk?”
Shelby looks to the dictator sitting at his desk. He nods.
“Yes,” she answers.
Since when does he make these decisions? Shelby is who I report to.
“My assumption is you’ll be spending the majority of your time here.” She looks at Mr. Mancini once more and he nods.
“Okay,” I say, sounding about as thrilled as if the dentist told me I need a root canal.
“That’s what’s so great about you, Annie, you’re so easy.” She stands, straightening her cardigan and blouse. “If you two need anything else, please let me know. I think you two will work great together.” She does that thing with her fingers—bringing them together—and leaves.
The door shuts, and I stare at Mr. Mancini typing on his computer. After a minute, he stops and swivels his chair forward. “Now that that’s handled… I’m having a meeting with Billy this afternoon. You can sit in on it since it has to do with Coddle.”
“Okay.”
His gaze stays on me. Since he has nothing else to add, I stand. “I’ll move my things.”
“Perfect. Thank you for being so accommodating. I think you’ll find you might learn more from me than you did with Teddy.”
I give him a saccharine smile.
I’m not at my desk near Mr. Beardsman’s office for more than two minutes before Jake comes up behind me. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve been moved? I think. I have to move to the desk by Mr. Mancini’s office. They’re going to try to find someone to take over my duties for Mr. Beardsman because they want me to work the Coddle account with Mr. Mancini.”
Jake’s jaw drops.
Am I just having a hard time seeing the positive in all this because I’ll have to grab lunch and answer phone calls for the biggest dick in the office?
I wonder if he has the biggest dick in the office?
I give my head a shake. Really professional, Annie.
Jake crosses his arms and smiles. “That’s awesome.”
“I guess so, but I’m still his assistant.”
“You won’t be for long. They’re gonna see your talent and move you up to your own accounts.”
He helps me by gathering my personal items as I grab my purse and coat. I stare at Mr. Beardsman’s dark office and my stomach sinks. This change doesn’t feel promising. It doesn’t feel like the next step in my career. It feels more like the last step before I reach the edge of the cliff. Mr. Mancini doesn’t keep his assistants long. What will happen when he’s ready for me to leave?
By the two o’clock appointment with Billy, I’m cautiously optimistic. Other than a few phone calls to him and having his lunch delivered, Enzo Mancini hasn’t been that bad at all. I’ve even been able to get some things done for Mr. Beardsman, so he doesn’t return to a desk full of work. Maybe I underestimated Mr. Mancini’s jerk level.
Billy walks by my new desk and backsteps to look me over. “Something’s different here.”
If I was looking for the exact opposite of Enzo, Billy’s my man. He’s easygoing and funny. Never takes anything too seriously. But that’s like most of the guys in the art department, I guess.
“Well.” I stand and grab a pad of paper and a pen. “I guess I’ve been promoted. Maybe?” I’m still confused myself.
“The fact you get to sit in on the campaign for Coddle is pretty awesome.”
“True.” I shrug.
He walks straight into Mr. Mancini’s office, holding the door open for me. I think nothing of it until we step in and Mr. Mancini’s scathing eyes are pointed right at me. He’s standing off to the side near his bathroom so we couldn’t see him through his glass door, but now that we’re inside, I can see everything.
His shirt is open and it’s like a magnet—my gaze dips to his hard, muscular chest on full display.
Jesus, how is it possible to look that good?
“Is knocking no longer customary?” he asks, his fingers buttoning up his shirt.
Then I see that his slacks are unbuckled and hanging open.
“If I was less of a man, I’d feel self-conscious around you.” Billy grabs a soda out of the fridge and sits on the couch in the far corner of his office.
“Um… I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.” I swivel on my heels, my face heated to what I think might be the surface level temperature on Mercury. I’m getting a good idea of why the employee handbook has a strict no-fraternization rule.
“Not necessary, but next time maybe buzz me before just strolling in.”
I still don’t turn around, because there’s no way I can see him like that and not have the image playing on repeat tonight as I’m alone in my bed.
“He’s dressed now,” Billy says a moment later.
I turn around to find Enzo buckling his belt. How on Earth am I supposed to work in this environment?
“I dripped some coffee on my other shirt.”
I wave off his comment, wanting to move on, and sit on the couch across from the one Billy is seated on. Mr. Mancini sits on the far end of the couch and places a white shirt between us, closer to me than him. I glance at it.
“I use the downstairs cleaner for convenience.”
“That’s nice.” I poise my pen over my paper.
“No rush, since I have plenty.” He nudges it a little closer, and I wiggle over until I can’t go any farther.
“Are you asking me to take in your dry cleaning for you?”
“Oh, this is fun,” Billy chimes in, putting his feet up on the table and resting his arms on his belly.
“You are my assistant, are you not?” Mr. Mancini opens a folder on the table, not bothering to make eye contact with me.
“Just so you know, most assistants do not pick up dry cleaning,” I snipe.
“Since when?” He finally makes eye contact, but it’s fleeting.
“Since the nineteen-seventies.”
He looks at Billy, and he nods.
“Huh. No one’s ever told me that.”
I roll my eyes. “Not surprising.”
“What does that mean?” He leans back on the leather couch, his arm outstretched along the back, positioning himself as though we’re all buddies, sitting around and shooting the shit.
Billy chuckles, and my gaze shoots to him. I see we’re on the same page.
“You’re a good-looking guy. People tend to do things outside of the norm for you. To please you.”
A mischievous smile forms on his lips. “You think I’m good-looking?”
“That’s what you got from what I just said?” I deadpan.
He shrugs. “I think you’re wrong. I think my previous assistants knew how hard I worked, and they were okay dropping off and picking up some dry cleaning since it’s right downstairs.”
“And in the end, they all got fired.” I tilt my head and smile.
Billy laughs again.
“One thing has nothing to do with the other.”
“Really? Billy, go give your dry cleaning slip to Emma,” I say.
His eyes shoot up. “First of all, I’m comfortable in my body, so I don’t take offense to your comment. Second of all, I like my balls. My wife likes my balls, and she wants another kid, so I think I’ll do that myself.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
Mr. Mancini ignores Billy, talking to me. “What a
bout you? You’re attractive. You’re telling me you don’t get perks for being good-looking?”
It takes me a minute to respond because I’m stuck on the fact that he said I’m attractive. “Um… no. We’re on different playing fields.”
His gaze drags over my body and back up. “No, we’re not.”
Does he not look in the mirror every day?
“Let’s make a bet,” he says with a smug smile.
“I’m not betting.”
“Yeah, let’s bet,” Billy chimes in, and both of us look at him.
“You go out there to that guy you’re always talking to—is he your boyfriend?” Enzo asks.
There’s only one guy out there. “Jake? No,” I scoff.
“Take this dry cleaning bag and tell him you’re swamped and ask him to take it down for you.” Enzo’s face says he’s dead serious. Demented and serious.
“No.” I smack my pen down on my notepad.
“Why? I think he’ll do it because he likes you.”
“He does not like me. We’re friends. Friends do friends favors. It wouldn’t prove your point.” I cross my legs.
“Nah. Let’s do it.” He holds the bag out for me.
“This is so childish.” I stand and snag the bag from him.
“That’s what’s so great about it,” Billy says. “I bet Jake refuses.”
“He’ll totally do it,” Mr. Mancini says, crossing his arms and staring at Jake at his computer.
I huff. Why do I feel the need to prove this adolescent point?
I walk out of the office and approach Jake’s desk. “Hey, Jake. Could you do me a favor? Um…”
He looks up at me.
“Could you take this to the dry cleaner for me? I’d do it, but I don’t have a ton of time, what with covering both desks.” I slide the bag onto the edge of his desk.
“Sure.” He holds out his hands.
“Why?” I widen my eyes.
He tilts his head. “Why what?”
“Why did you say yes?”
His forehead scrunches. “Because you said you were busy.”
My cell phone ringing from where it sits on my desk distracts us, and I rush over to silence it.
“It’s my dad,” I say to Jake. “Hey, Dad, I’m sorry, I can’t talk. Can I call you back later?”
“Beth’s having the baby. She’s at Memorial.”
I jolt, and Jake looks on in concern. “Oh. Okay. Um… I’ll be right there.” I hang up. “Beth’s having the baby.”
Jake jumps up and snags the bag from me. “Then I’m definitely taking this for you.”
“No.” I grab it back. “I’ll tell you about this later.”
I walk back into Mr. Mancini’s office. His cocky smirk says he thinks he’s claimed victory, but I still think our friendship is why Jake said yes.
“Sorry, I have to go. My sister just went into labor.” I drop the bag on the couch.
“Go,” Mr. Mancini says, motioning out the door.
“Really?” I ask. He’s being way too understanding.
“Family always comes first.”
I think he’s serious. “Okay. Well…”
“This is perfect. You go with her.” Billy claps his hands in front of him and nods between us.
“Why?” Mr. Mancini asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“So he can see the chaos before a birth and what it’s like after. Just as you described in that meeting.”
I shoot Billy a look that says he better watch his back tomorrow.
Mr. Mancini’s eyes light up. “You’re right. That’s perfect, I’ll grab my jacket.”
“Um…”
Whatever. I can argue with him on the way over. Right now, I just need to get to the hospital because I’m going to be an aunt!
Chapter 6
Enzo
* * *
We get out of the taxi at Memorial. Billy really is brilliant. To see a birth right before the Coddle pitch is perfect.
On the elevator up to the Labor and Delivery department, Annie glances at me. “I’m not sure my sister is going to be game with you witnessing her giving birth.”
“Why?”
“Are you serious? She’s not going to want you to see her hoo-ha.”
“Hoo-ha? What are we, five?” I stuff my hands into my pockets. “Say the word with me, Annie. Va-gi-na. Vagina.” I chuckle.
Her mouth hangs open. “You aren’t serious, right?”
“No. I’ll stay up by her head. You think I want to see that? Talk about scaring me off for the rest of my life. I’ll never get it up to get laid again.”
Annie laughs, and it dawns on me that it’s the first time I’ve made her laugh like that.
The elevator dings open. Annie’s steps come to a sudden halt before she’s even cleared the elevator doors. She stares at the nurses’ desk where a brunette stands with her back to us.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
A seething look crosses her face. “It’s my mom.”
“And?” I step out, holding the elevator open for her. I smile at the people waiting to enter.
“And I haven’t seen her in five years,” she continues on, and I follow.
Just as I’m about to ask a question, the brunette turns around. “Annie,” she coos, holding out her arms.
“Nice of you to make it.” Annie walks past her. Obviously, the texting in the taxi gave her her sister’s room number.
The brunette looks at me. “Are you her boyfriend?”
“He’s my boss, Mom, so hands off.”
“That’s unfair.” The brunette walks faster in her heels, trying to catch up to Annie.
“How did you even know? Does Beth know you’re here?”
“Your father called me. This is a big moment, and he understands that whatever is between us has nothing to do with me meeting my grandbaby.”
I follow the two women. Annie’s leading the pack while her mother keeps looking between her daughter and me.
“I’m Joyce.”
“Hi, I’m Enzo.”
We briefly shake before Annie disappears into a room to our left. Joyce doesn’t fail to follow, but now I’m thinking that Billy is the stupidest person I’ve ever met. Annie usually has a smile in the office, and I’ve never seen her treat anyone with animosity.
Except me, I suppose.
I wait in the hall to give Annie a chance to speak to her sister about my being here. I hope she agrees. I think this could give me some great insight into what the client is looking for.
After a few minutes, an old man steps out of the room and approaches me. “Lorenzo Mancini?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Franklin Stewart.” We shake hands.
“Good to meet you.”
“Where is he?” a woman from inside the room says.
I peek around the corner.
“Whoa!” The woman in bed falls back into the pillows shoved up behind her. “Mae wasn’t lying about him.”
Annie’s cheeks are red, but she still has a sullen expression.
“So you don’t mind if I stay and observe?” I smile, and her eyes gloss over. Then I spot the man holding her hand, his jaw clenched, and his eyes squeezed shut.
Annie’s sister falls back on the pillows. “Oh good, not so bad.”
The guy opens his hand and squeezes it shut. “Yeah, not bad.”
“I’m Enzo,” I say since Annie has taken on the role of pissed-off teenager in the corner.
“Beth. This is my husband, Sam.” She motions to the man at the side of the bed. “We’re fine with you sitting in but stay up near my head at all times.” She looks over at Annie, a tentative smile on her lips.
“That’s very agreeable of you. Thank you.”
“I’d do anything for my little sis.”
Before I can respond, Joyce pushes me away from the side of the bed and sits in the chair there. “Oh, sweetie, you look wonderful, but do you want me to put some makeup on you for the pictures
afterward?”
“Yeah, you never know who might see you. Better look drop-dead gorgeous after you’ve squeezed a walnut out of a peanut shell.” Annie picks at her fingernails, not looking up.
Beth shoots Annie another sympathetic look. “No, Mom, I’m good.” She grips the woman’s hand. “Thank you for coming.”
My gaze remains on Annie. She rolls her eyes. Her dad goes to her side, touches her knee, and whispers something.
“Oh, God.” Beth shoots up in bed and Sam grabs her hand, but she also still has her mom’s hand. Her eyes squeeze shut.
“Beth, you’re breaking my bones,” Joyce whines, but Beth doesn’t let go and a small smile creases Annie’s lips.
Beth falls back on the bed. “They’re getting more intense.”
A nurse comes in to check on Beth. Joyce takes the opportunity to stand and shake out her hand, then she takes a seat on the opposite side of the room.
The nurse looks at the screen of a piece of medical equipment. “You’re getting closer. I’m going to have the doctor come in and see where you’re at.”
As the nurse leaves, Annie takes Joyce’s spot in the bedside chair. “You’re doing great.” Annie wipes away the hairs stuck to her sister’s forehead.
“Never do this,” Beth says to her sister. “This is torture.”
“Okay.” Annie laughs and looks at Sam. “Looks like you’re a family of three.”
Sam rolls his eyes.
“You think I’m being dramatic, Sam Reynolds? Do you want to change places with me?”
The room is silent.
“Of course not,” Sam finally says.
“One kid is more than enough because you’ve never gone—OOOHHHH!” She grips Sam’s and Annie’s hands.
The longer the contraction goes on, the wider Annie’s eyes get. Her mouth opens, and I watch her hold in the pain for her sister.
“Holy shit,” Beth says when she can take a breath. “How did women end up on the shitty side of this situation?” She looks at Sam and my gut clenches. I can tell he’s going to be her punching bag.
“Just the way God wanted it, I guess.” He shrugs.
Even I know that’s the wrong answer.
“I think what he means is, he’d change places with you if he could,” I lean forward and add.
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