by Alora Kate
“Mr. Bale’s office.”
“Did you tell him I called?”
“You again?”
“Did. You. Tell. Him. I. Called?” she snarled in my ear.
“You mean in the, what, fifteen seconds since you hung up on me? No, I didn’t get a chance.”
“You’re completely incompetent. How in the world did you make it this far in life?”
“What—”
“I’m coming over.”
The line went dead.
I had to get out of here.
The computer in front of me pinged, and a message popped up on the desktop. EMPLOYEE HANDBOOK was written in caps across the subject line, and I scrolled down to see an attachment, but not before I found a passage completely highlighted in what was ‘office acceptable.’ I scoffed and looked at a pile of papers strewn across my desk. No, not my desk. I don’t work here. I tossed the earpiece down and went back into his office.
I pulled the envelope out and tossed it on his desk. “I’m not meek.” He looked up, and I pulled the camera out of my bag and snapped a picture.
“What the—”
“You’ve been served.”
“Excuse me.”
“And your wife is on her way in.”
“Goddamn it.”
He stood, and I slipped my camera back into my bag. “Good day.”
Good day? I stood tall, despite my lame exit, and started walking out.
“You’re a process server?”
“Yes,” I yelled over my shoulder.
“You suck at it!”
I smirked.
“I know you’re smirking.”
I lifted my hand and flipped him off over my shoulder. “Fire me.”
Chapter 2 - Ki
I tried to call Alexa when I got back outside, but I couldn’t get a hold of her. I was happy she was trying to help her mom, but I knew and saw the heartbreak that came with trying to help her. Her mom had been in and out of rehab since she was a child. I was honestly surprised Alexa made it to college and came out better on the other side because of what she went through with her mother, but I was proud of her. She only had her mother growing up, so I understood her continuous need to help her.
I, on the other hand, had a distant relationship with my parents. My father was an asshole to us my entire life, and my mother always defended him.
“You!”
I turned around and saw Mr. Bale rushing down the front steps toward me. He had ditched the glasses and rolled his sleeves back down, hiding his tattoos. Somehow, out here in the open, his massive size seemed to be magnified. Maybe it was a trick with the lighting, or maybe he reacted to sunlight like plants do . . . photosynthesis or something like that. He reached his hand out to me, and I flinched. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I was doing my job,” I said, crossing my arms around my waist.
“Yes, well . . . I’m,” he muttered over his words and put his hands in his pockets, “I’m sorry.”
I snorted. “You’re sorry?”
He looked back at me with a genuine soft smile on his face. I couldn’t decide if he looked better with or without the glasses. But I knew he looked good with that smile on his face instead of the pissed off look he wore in his office.
“It’s not something I do.”
“What? Apologize or smile.” Even though my heart was racing and I was about ready to pass out with embarrassment, I hid it. I kept myself grounded because if I didn’t, this man would destroy me.
He acted like he didn’t hear me. “I want to hire you.”
“What?”
“Hire you. Employ you. I’ll pay you five hundred dollars.”
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me!”
“Christ, woman, not like that. My wife will be here soon; I want you to be my secretary. The title is executive assistant, but that doesn’t matter.” He looked down the street, then back to me. I waited for him to continue but he seemed like he was at a loss for words. He didn’t look or act like someone that had trouble communicating. “Interrupt us as much as possible. Get her to leave sooner, and I’ll throw in a bonus.”
“Why don’t you just leave the office, go somewhere else?”
“This will be fun.”
“You don’t seem like the fun type.”
“I’m not. One thousand dollars.”
At a loss for words, he turned and gave me his back as he headed into the building. He never stopped, and I followed. His strides were long and powerful, his head was held high, and he just had this air about him, like he owned the entire building. I rushed, narrowly tripping over my feet to keep up with him, and I stood breathless as we entered the lobby. How in the world did he do this to me? The only logical explanation was that he put a spell on me. Or maybe I was being punished. Why would the universe want to punish me? I think having braces at the age of twenty-seven was punishment enough.
I still followed. I’m curious and nosy, and maybe it will be fun.
I looked around in awe of the lobby. I didn’t take the time earlier, and now I felt the desire to soak up the luxury. The floors were a glossy marble that echoed when you walked across it. Everything was chrome and mirrors, and everything, even the smallest fixtures, were detailed and polished to a shine. Large, cushy leather chairs and sofas were spaced around the main lobby, with black and chrome coffee tables to match. A security hub sat in the center, along with reception, and a complimentary coffee bar. My eyes grew wide at all of the self-serve options and quickly made a mental note to try it out someday.
We rode up in the elevator with more awkward silence. The only solace was the Muzak that streamed into the elevator, with Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing filling the space. My first hurdle: do not lip-sync, dance, or play air-guitar with this high-powered lawyer next to you. My fingers twitched when the hook came, and thankfully, the elevators opened at the same moment. First crisis averted.
Once at my desk, I asked to use the computer so I could download the picture and send it to Josh. I only did that when I couldn’t get there in person. Mr. Bale had no issues with my request, but asked that I answer the phone and try to fix his calendar, and then went back to his office.
Small talk over.
The smile was gone.
The man was all business, like what happened on the street never happened.
Five calls later, and I could hear a shrill woman’s voice coming down the hallway. I rolled my chair over to the edge of the hallway and slowly looked around the corner. His wife. It was obvious. She looked like Alexa’s naughty twin. Long, blond hair. Sleek, shiny white wrap dress, with what looked like four-inch red heels.
“You don’t have to walk me,” she snarled at the same receptionist who walked me back earlier.
“Last time you keyed the wall.”
The wife smiled. “He deserved it.”
“This is a place of business—”
“Fuck off.” She cut in front of her, and walked faster and realized I was watching. I rolled back over to my desk and started talking as if I was on the phone.
She passed me and shut the door after entering his office. She immediately started yelling. I wanted to listen, but the phone actually rang, and I felt obligated to answer. I wasn’t sure if he was really going to pay me, but it couldn’t hurt to answer the phone.
“Mr. Bale’s office.”
“Is he in?” a male voice asked.
“Yes, would you like him?”
“Tell him it’s Jake.”
“Jake? Are you Jake from Statefarm? What, you have no last name, Jake?”
He chuckled. “You’re new.”
“First day,” I replied, glancing up at the two of them. She was waving her arms around, still screaming, and he just sat there with a bored look on his face. Clearly, they had issues. Or maybe she did.
“I’m the district attorney; he’ll want to chat.”
He wanted to be interrupted, and this was a good chance to do just that.
�
��Hold please, Jake; I’ll transfer you now,” I said with a smile before hitting the ‘hold’ button on the phone system. I took a deep breath before I walked to his door.
As I opened the door, she spun around and pointed at me. “Get out!”
I ignored her. “Mr. Bale, Jake, the district attorney, is on the line.”
“I have to take this.”
His wife spun around, and I shut the door. I waited ten seconds and then opened the door again. “Mr. Bale, the dist—”
“Fire her!”
I pursed my lips, trying not to smile.
“Leave, Vicki; I’ll call you later.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“It’s confidential; you can’t be in the room for this phone call.”
“You’re such an ass.”
“I’m working! I said we would talk later; now please, leave before I call security. Again.”
“You don’t have to remind me. I’ll never forget how awful your security was, the whispers, and how absolutely unprofessional your staff was. This isn’t over, Prescot.” He picked the phone up, and she snagged her purse from the chair and rushed out of the room. She shut the door and looked me up and down. “Braces. What are you, twelve?”
I ignored her; I’ve heard it all before and went back to my chair.
“He’s my husband,” she warned, gripping her purse, “so, when I call, put me through. Don’t give me those lame excuses about him being on the phone.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back toward my computer. I had no idea how late I was supposed to work, but if I wanted to get that five hundred, and hopefully a bonus, in my pocket, I’d better at least start working on his calendar. It was easy to access on my computer, and after an hour of organizing all of his different types of appointments, and calling to confirm them, I was in the zone. I looked up shortly after that and noticed that his office was dark and empty. Looking down at the clock, I saw it was already four o’clock. The phones had been moderately busy, and I had a page of messages waiting for him.
It took me another hour to color-code the calendar, so it’d be in a working and organized condition. It’s amazing this man could function, let alone run a successful law firm. I saved a copy to the computer, emailed one to Mr. Bale, and shut down the computer.
I put the messages on his desk and went back to mine. I swiped a few fancy ballpoint pens, a couple of legal notepads, and some post-its before leaving for the night.
The receptionist was standing at her desk, holding her purse like she was leaving for the day. I smiled at her.
“So, you survived your first day, huh? Don’t forget to get yourself some office-appropriate clothes for tomorrow.”
I laughed at her as I waited for the elevator. “Oh, I’ll get right on that.”
“I know a good shop, easy on the prices,” she suggested as the elevator opened for me.
“No, thanks.” The doors started to close. “I got it covered.”
Chapter 3 - Ki
“You color-coded my calendar.”
I slowly turned in my chair, so I’d have time to give myself a quick pep talk. I didn’t think he’d track me down, but at the same time, I wanted him to.
I caught his eyes and pulled the sucker out of my mouth. “Did you like the colors?”
He stepped around the chair in front of my desk and then sat down. His massive size might break my chair, but he gave no indication he was uncomfortable. His sleeves were rolled up— this time a bit more, showing a little more color and design of his tattoos. His perfect black hair wasn’t so perfect anymore either. The five o’clock shadow from the previous day was gone, leaving smooth slightly tanned skin behind. I wasn’t sure which look I liked better . . . rugged, slightly scruffy Mr. Bale, or clean-cut Mr. Bale.
“You could sit in Alexa’s chair.”
He glanced at the desk next to mine. They both faced the front door and behind us was a door to the bathroom. That was it for this side of the room. The other side was blocked off for my photography studio and also had the door that led upstairs to our apartment. My studio was constantly a work in progress, as I haven’t had as much time to dedicate to my photography. I had a website with my portfolio, and I did sporadic advertising, but our business was always my first priority.
“Private investigator,” he stated.
I set my sucker down. “Yep.”
“And a process server?”
“Both of us.”
“The camera.” He jerked his chin to my camera bag that was on Alexa’s desk. Our desks were similar but didn’t match, which I felt made us look a bit quirky. We didn’t spend very much money on them, but they did their job, and we weren’t in the office that much. “Some kind of photographer?”
“I try.”
“This isn’t a bad spot,” he commented, looking around the space.
“We like it.”
I still wasn’t sure why he was here, but the small talk was kind of nice considering most days I only talk to Alexa.
“So, the colors,” I started. “You like them?”
“You scheduled my lunch breaks in yellow.”
“Everyone has to eat.”
“I eat when I can,” he replied, leaning forward. “I’m more curious as to how you did it.”
“Did what?”
He paused and chewed on the bottom of his lip. My eyes zeroed in on his lip, imagining nibbling on his lip myself. “My calendar. It’s organized, it’s color-coded, and there are numbers next to the appointments with the best person to contact.”
“Sometimes my OCD kicks in.”
He chuckled, and I noticed a small dimple on the right side of his mouth.
He was quiet for a while, and I felt awkward just staring at him. He closed his eyes before he softly spoke, “You left without your check.”
“No, you left without giving me my check.”
He flashed me a smile again, and I felt a faint flutter hit my chest. “It was on my desk. I suppose you didn’t see it when you dropped the messages on it.”
“You were serious?”
“I just asked for a few moments of your time, and you gave me hours. You did more for me in those hours than most receptionists have ever done. That’s why I keep firing them.”
“Executive assistants.”
Another great chuckle.
Another dimple.
He fought off the chair as he stood and pulled his wallet out. He set the check on my desk and pushed it forward. “Thank you.”
I sat up and looked at it.
One thousand dollars.
Made out to me.
My full name.
“How did you find me?”
“Come on, Ki; you’re a PI,” his rough, playful voice said my name like he knew me for years, “figure it out.”
He slipped the wallet into his pocket and pulled his phone out when it started to ring. “I gotta go.” He answered his phone all business-like and headed out the front door like he was never here. I put the check in the top drawer of my desk and went to lock up. I glanced around outside, but the sun had set, making it hard to see where he disappeared to. I wanted the chance to see him walk away.
I locked up, turned the lights off, and grabbed my sucker off my desk. I meandered up the stairs, my thoughts swimming with what one thousand dollars would mean for Alexa and me. I found something to eat, had a glass of wine, and changed into my PJs by the time Alexa got back.
After she had changed into her PJs, she joined me on the couch. “I heard the phone when I came in.”
“It’ll have to wait.”
We turn the volume down on the office phone at night and let our old fashion machine pick up any messages. She curled up on the other end with a red throw blanket and closed her eyes. “I’m so tired.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not tonight.”
“Your neck will kink if you lay like that.”
She slid down onto the pillow, and I went back to flipping thr
ough the channels.
The next morning, I found Alexa sitting at my desk when I got downstairs. She had her feet up on the edge of my desk and was waiting for me. She lifted her hand up, holding what I assumed was a check.
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Look at the date, Alexa; I got it yesterday.”
She looked it over and then put it back inside my desk. “I wouldn’t keep it from you, Lex, but you were tired last night, and I let you rest.”
“It’s a lot of money.”
“It is.” I tapped on her feet; she dropped them, and let me have my black chair back. We both sat down, facing each other.
“I did that job on my own yesterday.”
“I know; I’m so proud of you.”
“I served a lawyer.”
She smiled. “Which one? Was it the one we saw in the courtroom a few weeks back? The really tall one, pretty dreamy.”
“No, but he was tall.”
“So, tell me.”
“Prescot Bale.”
“No shit!”
“No shit.”
We’ve heard of him in passing but never had the chance to meet him or see him in court.
“So spill. How did you serve Prescot Bale?” A giggle sounded from Alexa’s lips as she spun in her chair.
“I served him after I played secretary.”
Alexa stopped mid-rotation and quickly moved so she was right in front of me. “Wait. What? Start at the beginning, Ki, . . . and don’t leave anything out!”
For the next twenty minutes, I explained to Alexa how I stumbled on a job at Bale’s office, how his wife threatened to have me fired, and how I flipped him off after I served him. Then, I explained how he offered me five hundred dollars to organize his life, with the promise of a bonus if I did a good job. Which I apparently did. I did not, however, let her know how cute his dimples were or the fact that he can rock a white button-down shirt like no one’s business. After she was satisfied she was completely caught up, I checked our voicemails.
“Josh called. He said he has a few envelopes he’ll hold for us to pick up, but we need to get there quick before our competition shows up to try and steal them from us,” I told her as I hung the phone up.