by Emily Childs
“What are you stressed about?” he asks me.
“It’s nothing.”
My sister grunts. “Boss troubles.”
“Wow, Nic.”
Oscar nudges his elbow against mine. “Just kick him, he’s not going to fire you.”
“Oh, I don’t know. What am I? His third administrative assistant?”
“Yeah, but one left to stay home with her baby,” Oscar says. “Trust me, Lane, he’ll never fire you.”
I don’t know what he’s insinuating by that, but the hair raises on the back of my neck, and I’m not sure it’s a good thing.
“Well, if Bass doesn’t give her Friday off, I’ll kick him,” Nicole says.
Sometimes I forget Nicole is friendly with the no-good boss man. Impossible to avoid when Oscar and Bastien have been friends, I assume, for forever. She shortens his name to Bass, while I’d like to call him things that would shock the ghost of my mother.
“Hey, did you apply?” Oscar asks as Nicole hands him a special Swedish tea that smells like nutmeg. He doesn’t need to order; she knows what he’ll pick every time. When she discovered his love of all things Norse, she added a few new tastes to her own menu. I think he might be the only one who orders from it.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Another reason I’m mad at my boss. He acted like he won’t give me a good recommendation when he got the email from Holly.”
“You worry too much,” Oscar says, taking a sip, and winking at Nicole. I guess it’s his way of telling her the recipe makes the cut. “Bastien isn’t going to sabotage you. Well, maybe since he thinks you’re the best assistant.”
I snort. “Right. I really get the vibe I’m his favorite person.”
Oscar’s smile fades slightly. “Want me to tell him to ease up?”
“No,” I say abruptly as I slide off my stool, taking a garlic knot for the road. “Please no. Don’t give that man any more ammunition against me. Gotta run, lovebirds.”
“Wait, your shoes,” Nicole says and darts into the kitchen. When she returns, she hands me a pink shoebox. “Practice in them before the actual day, yeah?”
“Nah,” I tell her as I inspect the pale stilettos. “It’ll be wicked funny if your Maid of Honor turfs it, feet over head, you know.”
“True,” she agrees. “Compromise and wear shorts under your dress.”
“Deal. Well, back to the grind. Oscar, you staying here?”
“I have some more time.” He says it to Nicole, with the simmering look I hope chills a little once they’re officially man and wife. Tension has been building between them for six months, growing stronger as the big day creeps closer. If they don’t get married soon, either they will combust, or I will from being forced to watch them.
“Ah, what life would be like if I were a director of a department.” I give my sister a quick, one-armed hug, pat Oscar on the shoulder, then hurry outside, my phone already buzzing with messages. One from Dan, another analyst, and three from Bastien reminding me of the meeting and paperwork I am supposed to organize for him before he faces the CEO.
And just like that, I have a headache.
***
In the hallway outside of conference room B, I scroll through my tablet, studying the market analysis for the Cutler account. Clear and concise, and it’s aggravating giving Bastien credit for his work, but he did a good job.
All I know about the new client is Cutler Inc. is based in South Carolina, somewhere outside Charleston. Some hot shot is coming next week for a face-to-face breakdown of our risk analysis during some massive expansion plan. Bastien will be the head analyst, no doubt. Howard doesn’t seem like he has much interest in new clients anymore since he spends more time at his vacation home in the Hamptons.
I’d like to be in the room too, but as one of the marketers.
Cutler Inc. won’t be the only big client. No siree, eventually there will be more, and I smile every time I think of digging into different areas, cultures, markets, and targets. Perhaps I’m a bit of a data nerd, but I studied business marketing for a reason.
I love the critical thinking.
I love the creativity.
I love designing campaigns.
I love all of it.
The only trouble is getting a chance to show Holly I can be moved to the fifth floor, I can be more than Bastien Olsen’s schedule keeper.
“Hey Laney!”
I glance up and smile at Gertie, one of those lucky ones who snagged a spot in marketing last year—right before I officially graduated. Bummer how timing works out sometimes.
“Hi Gertie,” I say brightly. “How is the spreadsheet coming?”
“You mean, my nemesis, my truest foe, my ultimate enemy? That spreadsheet?”
“That’s the one.”
She shrugs and leans against the wall at my side. “It’s fine. So, tell me, between us, do you think Bastien will get an executive office?”
“Don’t say that,” I whine. “Placing the man in an office with a view and fancy nameplate will go straight to his head.”
Gertie snickers. “Well, he’s one of Holly’s gems, you know that.”
“How is it that I have two connections to her favorites and I’m still running coffee?”
Oscar manages the entirety of HR. If he weren’t getting married soon with the excuse of planning, he and my sister would be attending the Viking football game this Sunday with Bastien and his currently non-existent plus one.
Holly Everett loves Oscar. She loves Bastien. I doubt she knows my name.
Gertie offers me a sympathetic grin. “Hang in there, girl. It’ll happen. At least the pay is good, right? I mean, you’d be okay with your spot for a while?”
I nod. One thing Holly Everett hates more than sushi (which is a healthy disdain) is turnover. Everett has the best competitive salary packages, even for administrative assistants. I don’t want to leave the company, but if I don’t get a new position . . . well, I’ll keep my options open.
“How’s Hunter?” I ask changing the subject.
She chuckles. “He rocks the stay at home dad look.”
“Do you miss working together?”
“Sometimes, but we made a deal: I work for a while and build a resume, then he’ll go back. Honestly, I’m not sure he’ll want to come back. Although Oscar was saying how he wants to poach him. Poach him from a baby, mind you, for the new accounts Holly’s projecting by the end of the year.”
I laugh. “HR is busy with this clientele uptick. The Cutler account alone, according to Oscar, is loaded. There’ll be a lot to tackle with new teams, trainings, all that, I guess.”
“Yeah, Hunter is starting to cave, and might come in one day a week just to get them through the hiring and setup.”
“Well, tell him to make Oscar sweat a little bit.”
Gertie chuckles, but her eyes widen when she glances over my shoulder. “Looks like someone is coming to steal you from me.”
I follow her gaze and frown. Bastien, scrolling on his phone, is coming toward us. He’s back in his full suit, looking important and pompous. He better have been a good son and answered his mother’s phone call, but family seems to be the last thing on his mind when he locks me in his narrowed gaze.
“Still the battling duo?” Gertie whispers.
“Until the end of time,” I mutter out the side of my mouth.
“Well, see you in there.”
Gertie slips into the conference room while I pin on a counterfeit smile as Bastien tucks his cell phone back into his pocket.
“Reports, sir,” I say, handing over my tablet.
“Yeah, don’t call me sir. Then again, maybe you should always call me sir.”
I roll my eyes, a constant around Bastien. “All the preliminary analyses for Cutler’s location and the market need are there. Have a great time.”
“Whoa,” he says when I start to walk away. “You’re coming in too.”
“Why do I need to be there?”
“Help
take notes, schmooze Amelia since you’re so anxious to join the marketing team.”
“Would it be possible for you to not make fun of me for wanting to use my skills?” I rest my hands on both hips, afraid he’ll see I like the idea of getting to know the woman who heads up marketing.
“Huh, didn’t know I was teasing.”
I take another step back. “Right. Have a nice meeting. I’ll keep the office from crumbling without your leadership while you’re gone.”
“I’m serious,” he tells me and closes the gap between us. “I want you at the meeting.”
I can’t remember a time we’ve stood close enough to touch before.
We don’t, of course. No, I clasp my hands behind my back straightaway because touching Bastien, my boss, would be insane. Inappropriate. I’m ashamed to say for a heartbeat, I’m tempted.
I do my best to avoid staring at him, make no mistake, but sometimes an aggravating urge to glance his way arises from nowhere and I peek. Doesn’t mean I like it. He’s crossing his arms over his chest, inches from me, mouth tight. Why is he still here and not feeding his ego with the executives? Better question, why is he staring at me?
I lift a brow. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
“You’re nervous.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re nervous to be around Holly, aren’t you?”
I could laugh, maybe cry, that he’s peeling back layers I’ve carefully placed over true feelings. Sitting and conversing with Holly, and Amelia, and Piper, and anyone else in that room is terrifying. But Bastien doesn’t need to know that. “No. I simply have a workaholic for a team leader and have a lot to do.”
A twitch of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Bastien has a nice smile when he decides to use it. “I promise you won’t need to say anything, Brooks. But everyone else will have their assistants—”
“Administrative.”
“Administrative assistants,” he corrects. “They’ll all be there. Come on.”
I frown with intention. “Take note to how agreeable I am when you’re going over Friday’s schedule and my letter of recommendation. Wouldn’t hurt for you to be a little less terrible sometimes.”
He laughs and opens the door. “Ah, but then you’d like me too much and wouldn’t focus on your work.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“Sir. Keep dreaming, sir.”
“No. You have absolutely not earned another sir.”
Bastien’s smile widens as he leaves me to step into the conference room. He’s entirely entertained by irritating me, and I think I might hate him.
But I can hate him and enjoy his smile too.
“You two are adorable.”
I jump and turn around, stomach dropping out the bottom of me. Holly Everett is beaming. Her red pantsuit is brighter than her apple-red lips, and her eyes sort of sparkle, as if she’s discovered something secret.
“Hello, Ms. Everett. I didn’t see you.”
“Miss Brooks, right?” She smiles wider when I nod. “Well, woman to woman, you and Mr. Olsen are quite handsome together.”
Together?
Oh. Oh. Nononono. She thinks—
“I love it,” Holly says. “By the way, I saw your resume. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
The most primitive reminders flood my head; things like, impress the boss, be agreeable, but she’s made a glaring mistake. I fiddle with the ends of my hair. “Oh, thank you. I look forward to meeting with you to discuss it. But um, Bas—Mr. Olsen and I, well, I’m only his assistant.”
Her shoulders visibly slump. “Oh, forgive me.”
“No, please, it’s just—”
Her phone rings and she answers. “Pardon me, Miss Brooks. We’ll talk soon.” Her voice is flatter as she takes her phone call.
I smile graciously, but my heart is racing. Holly is a busy body, and is notorious for snooping into private lives. She’s lovely, and no one has any real qualms over her intrusion. But more since her husband died, she is enamored by young love. I can’t count how many times she’s paused meetings to ask Oscar about the wedding.
She misses her husband, and I feel a little sorry I crushed a bit of her brightness today.
I suppose that’s life though. Disappointment. Because there is no way Bastien Olsen and I could ever be together.
When I step inside, I catch his gaze. A divot forms between his brows, and I realize I’m staring. He nods his head to the seat at his side, then turns back to his phone.
I sigh.
No, even if he’s delightful to look at, sorry Holly. Bastien and Laney Brooks? It won’t happen.
Chapter 5
Bastien
The long table is already lined with different faces from marketing and accounting. I’m glad Howard is gone. Gives me a chance to independently represent the data and analysis department, furthering my chances to run the entire department.
Amelia, the head of marketing, sits across from me. She pulls the cat-eye glasses and salt and pepper look off well. Friendly as she is, I’m resentful simply because Laney would rather work with her than on my teams.
I’m moodier than Amelia, perhaps, but I still make sure those on my team are taken care of. At the start of the year, I negotiated a lot of raises with Holly. It pays knowing algorithms, projections, and statistics. I won the argument. I know Laney enjoys marketing, but if a spot opened in the analytics team, she’d be amazing there too.
Her ridiculous ladybug sticky note marking my own mistake is proof she’s got the attention to detail.
Bryce from accounting is already squinting at his laptop screen, his assistant Tucker seems less than interested in being here, and I’m pretty sure he’s playing a game on his phone. Oscar sits nearest to Holly, out of breath as he flips through several three-ringed binders.
Oscar is still the golden child back home. And it’s about to start a new feud between the Olsens and Jacobsons.
He’s always going home to visit, his beautiful fiancée on his arm, and Sigrid Olsen uses my best friend against me. Oscar manages everyone (as if he’s CEO) and still finds time to come home, she’ll say. Oscar doesn’t work weekends, so he can come see his mother. If I didn’t love the guy so much, I think I’d punch him in the nose. Sam and Gloria sit on either side of him, both HR, and both with a proclivity for following every rule to the letter. Sam especially. He got after one of my analysts for leaning against the desk of a female employee once, accusing him of harassing the girl.
They’re cousins.
Laney opens the door a few minutes after Holly. I’m surprised. Laney Brooks is the most annoyingly punctual person I know. She stares at me, and for a second, I think she’s trying to mentally tell me something. Her pause offers enough time to admire her unique style compared to the strait-laced people in the room. Sneakers, glasses, and wild curls. Three visible earrings in her left ear, two in the right. In college she had more.
Her style is but one of her quirks I appreciate.
I nod at the chair next to me, if only to hide the rush of heat to my face when I start thinking what it would feel like to run my fingers through the madness of her hair.
That’s wrong and Elle would call me a creep. My sister-in-law has a thing about weird bosses thanks to her psycho ex-husband. But I’m not a creep; Laney is pretty, and I’m a man who notices. Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it. Last I checked, she thinks I’m a terrible human being, so there’s that.
She sits at my side, opening her tablet, stiff and attentive. What’s her deal?
At the front, Holly beams at the room. She’s pushing sixty, but is a classy vintage. I wouldn’t guess her to be older than my mom if I didn’t know her. Holly has a knack for business, and a sentiment to the people who work within her walls, even more since Roger, her husband, passed last year. I think we’ve become her family now.
Still, she knows how to manage and isn’t afraid to turn people down. Like me, for a job, if she doesn�
��t think I’m up to par.
At her side, Piper chomps a piece of gum. If Holly is red and warm, Piper is silver and cold. Not even kidding about the silver. Her hair, the sequin jacket, and shoes. She’s got one of the best jobs in the place, but acts like she hates every second of it.
Holly pats Piper’s shoulder and waits for her niece to sit on the bench underneath the TV, lost to her phone before her backside even touches the cushion.
“Welcome everyone,” Holly begins. “As you’re aware, we are expanding into consulting entrepreneurs, not as typical as our government and banking accounts. Already we have clients in brokerage firms, financial planning, and several construction companies looking to expand. Our job is to help them grow, understand their markets and targets, while meeting their bottom lines, right?”
A murmur of agreement fills the room. I nod as Laney opens the tablet beside me, offering me a breath of her perfume. She smells like vanilla and strawberries. Officially, I’m only half listening as Holly goes on about the expectations going forward. Words like sharp attention to detail, forethought, out of the box. I can do that. Then Holly asks for my first report on the first big client in this new direction, the Cutler account, and I’m hyperaware the way my knee starts to bounce beneath the table.
From the neck up, though, no one would know this is the moment I’ve been anticipating all day. I pass over my reports and wait.
“Solid first analysis, Bastien,” Holly says after fifteen minutes. “I think Lon Cutler will be pleased. And what about the comparatives?”
“Factoring in the name and brand he’s established in the area, according to what we found, Cutler Incorporated has the upper hand.”
She nods and faces Amelia. “You seem like you agree, according to your target reports?”
Amelia, Gertie, and Holly chat about demographics, and I breathe easier when they keep looping back to my findings and data. She brings in Oscar several times, asking about training and hiring, whether we should hire out or in-house. I note Laney shift at that part. My fists clench and unclench over my knees.