Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“This is not a hostile situation. Is it wrong of me to expect competency? A decent work ethic?”
“No, but it’s wrong to yell at them.”
I blow out an impatient breath. I don’t have time for this, especially not now when I’ll be working on my own for the rest of the week.
“Fine,” I reply between clenched teeth. “I’ll coddle the next girl.”
Britney laughs. “Right. I’ll have someone there Monday morning. Have a good week.”
Hanging up, I turn in my desk chair to stare out my office window. I’m due in court in an hour, but I need a minute to take in my view of Puget Sound and clear my head. I rarely keep an assistant for longer than a few weeks. I did have Mrs. Wilshire for several years, but she finally retired to spend time with her grandchildren.
Mrs. Wilshire didn’t take any crap from me and knew her job well. We had a working relationship that was easy and mutually beneficial. I was disappointed to see her go, even more so when the temp agency I work with continued to send me people who didn’t know an affidavit from a grocery list.
With a sigh, I return to my computer and open my email, determined to get a good amount of work done before I need to leave the office. I can only hope the next assistant is at least competent.
* * * *
It has not been a good week. I couldn’t find anything in my office, mostly because I haven’t had time to file anything, and I don’t have anyone to do it for me. I’ve missed important calls, forgot about one meeting altogether, and have a migraine the size of sodding Russia that’s been living in my head since Tuesday night.
I’m in no mood to be at a business dinner with a powerful, high-paying client and his daughter, especially when it isn’t a business meeting at all but a ploy to set me up with said daughter—whom I have no interest in whatsoever.
“With MaryJane taking over my business next year, I thought it was important for the two of you to meet and get acquainted,” Harold says with a sly smile.
“I see.” I look at the woman in question. “Have you been kept apprised of your father’s legal issues thus far, Ms. Sylvester?”
“MJ,” she says with a smile. “Everyone calls me MJ. Well, except for Daddy.”
Harold nods approvingly. “I think I’ll leave the two of you to it,” he says as he stands, and I can’t help but blanch.
“Sir, you’ll have information and insight to share in this conversation.”
“I don’t think I will.” He winks at me and smiles at his daughter. “I’ll leave my card with the waitress. Have fun, you two.”
He walks away, leaving me feeling trapped and more than a little pissed off. I’ll be parting ways with Harold’s company on Monday. This is absurdly unprofessional and a waste of my time.
“So,” MJ says as she scoots a little closer to me and leans forward, showing off her impressive tits. “Tell me all about yourself, Derek.”
“There isn’t much to say.” I drink my water and wish for a whiskey, but the alcohol will only make the migraine worse. “Now, about the business.”
She snorts, already three drinks in, and shakes her head. “I think we both know I don’t give a rat’s ass in hell about the business. I’ll hire people to handle it when Daddy retires next year.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Because I wanted to see you again.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “We’ve never met.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She sips her martini and eyes me with predatory brown eyes. “We were briefly introduced at a holiday party last year.”
I frown, not remembering that at all. MJ is beautiful, but she’s loud, entitled, and not the type of woman I pay attention to.
“My apologies,” I reply. “I meet a lot of people at those parties.”
“Ouch.” She scowls. “I believe I was just told that I don’t stand out.”
I let my gaze roam over her perfectly styled brunette hair, pretty face, curvy figure, and mentally shrug. She’s fine. Nothing particularly special about her. Sure, she might be a decent shag, but I’m not interested in going there with her. She doesn’t do anything for me.
MJ’s fingers dance up my arm, and she smiles coyly. I have no physical reaction to her whatsoever.
“We could go to my place,” she coos. “It’s a ten-minute cab ride away.”
“MJ.” I take her hand off my arm and gently place it on the table. I don’t want to be unkind, but I also want to make it clear that I’m not interested. Now or ever. “Thank you for the generous offer, but I’ll have to pass.”
Her smile vanishes, leaving a blank, confused expression on her face.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Did I mention that she’s entitled? Add spoiled to that.