One Look At You (12 page)

“Assistants’ code,” she says while crossing her heart. “I never said nor implied anything negative.”

“What could Margaret have said to him?”

“I don’t know. My boss is not the type to make up stories, so either she misread the situation or he misunderstood what she was saying.”

“I’m sorry, Cassie. I’m just upset, that’s all.” I rub her shoulder to placate her.

“That’s okay,” she says graciously. “Honestly, though, I don’t understand why you’re in such a hurry to go back to John. Don’t get me wrong. John’s a sweetheart. But, if I were you, I’d be doing my best to stay put as Tony’s assistant. Honey, the job was handed to you on a silver platter. Why don’t you fight for it?”

“I’m wrong for the job. Besides, if he wanted me to stay, he would say so. He’s already indicated several times that, when he handpicks someone, I go back to John.”

She frowns at my statement. “I don’t see why you would be wrong for the job. You’ve worked for John two years. You’re already familiar with the corporate set-up. Plus, I assume you’re doing a good job or he would have asked Margaret for another temp. But, whatever makes both of you happy,” she says with a shrug.

Whatever makes me happy? A tall, dark-haired man with gorgeous gray eyes whose touch leaves me breathless.

It’s late and I don’t know if I should just leave or ask him if he needs anything else before I go. He hasn’t left his office since I came back from my talk with Cassie. I’ve been busying myself with paperwork, and he’s been doing back-to-back conference calls with store managers all afternoon.

I grab my purse and cardigan, but I can’t go without saying goodnight. I hesitate to do so, afraid he might still be in a terrible mood and bite my head off again.
Just go already
. Even though I normally just enter, this time I knock briefly on his door to announce myself.

“Come in,” he says tersely. Again, I dally, uncertain of the reception I’ll be getting.

“Do you need me for anything else?” I ask softly.

“No. Goodnight,” he says perfunctorily.

As I exit the door, he suddenly says, “Olivia, I’m sorry about this afternoon.” I incline my head as if to say ‘it’s alright.’

“It rankles every time you…” he shakes his head without finishing his sentence. I wait for him to say more, but he just stares at me in some indefinable manner.

I stare back at him and then say, “Goodnight,” as I reach for the doorknob and pull.

I’m having lunch at Lucille’s with Cassie, Kayla, and Liz. Grace couldn’t join us because, as usual, Bill Wyatt is inspecting a couple of locations in Miami and she has to be there to take notes about his observations. The last time we had a get-together was two months ago, so we’re all excitedly catching up.

Everyone is asking me about what it’s like to work for Tony. Rose, Ralph Donaldson’s assistant, used to be in the hot seat whenever we ate out, so I guess it’s only natural for me to be the focus of attention now.

“So, what’s it really like to work for someone so dreamy?” Liz asks. Liz is the oldest among us. She’s in her late thirties and is married to a computer programmer.

“He’s a boss, like any other,” I remark drily.

“Not quite,” Cassie says. “You have to admit he’s the full package,” she adds.

“Hot, hot, hot,” Liz says with a little laugh.

“Can’t we talk about something else?” I ask.

“Absolutely not,” Kayla says. “I wanna know how you can do your work when he’s around.”

“Quite easily,” I say.

“You’re no fun,” Kayla says. Kayla is a very pretty redhead with the dainty figure of a ballerina. She is also known as the office flirt. A harmless one, but there have been a few rumors about dalliances with some of the good-looking single and not-so-single men at the office.

“He’s professional. I’m professional. End of story.”

I hear a chorus of ‘uhums’ but I stick to my guns and say nothing further.

“Okay, can we talk about the Masquerade Ball?” Cassie asks excitedly. Thank goodness they’re letting me off the hook.

“It’s more than a month away,” Liz says.

“It’s almost the end of July,” Cassie replies.

“Are you in charge of the welcoming committee?” Kayla asks me.

“I don’t know. That’s usually the CFO assistant,” I say.

“That’s you then,” Liz says.

“I may be back with John by that time,” I say.

“That’s not gonna happen. Unless Tony moves fast and conducts interviews, picks an assistant, and lets us do a thorough background check, it’ll take at least six weeks for someone else to take over your job,” Cassie says authoritatively. “And he’s moving at a snail’s pace.”

A look of dismay must show on my face.

“What’s wrong with you, girl?” Kayla asks. “One would think that you hate your job.”

“No, I don’t,” I reassure her. “I was just counting on… never mind.”

Liz turns to Cassie and asks, “Are you going with Bob from Accounting?”

I look at Cassie and smile. “Bob from Accounting? Are you keeping secrets?”

“You’re a tattletale, Liz,” she says.

“It’s not a big deal. We’re both part of this book club,” she glowers as everyone starts to laugh. “Ha. Ha. Okay, so we’re a couple of dweebs.”

“Oh, Cassie, you guys are so cute!” Liz says.

“Anyway, I’m at the welcome table and Bob is with I’m-not-sure-which committee. So we’ll just get to say hi and hello every now and then throughout the ball. It will still be fun,” Cassie says.

“Are you going with anyone, Livie?” Kayla asks.

“No. If I’m going to be heading the welcoming committee, I need to attend to it full-time.” As I say that, everyone bursts out laughing. “You guys, it’s a big thing. I can’t make a mistake.”

“Cassie, make room for Livie at the dweeb’s table,” Liz says and we all die laughing.

“All I know is that this is the only big social occasion on my calendar this year, so I’m going to splurge on my dress,” Kayla says.

“Ditto,” Cassie says. “Liv?”

“I was gonna wear the black gown from last year, but my friends have persuaded me to get something new. So I’m thinking of shopping at the fashion district,” I say.

The conversation then goes in all directions as we talk about hair, make-up, and other girly stuff.

I’m back at the office after the great lunch with the ladies. The one thing that I appreciate about my circle of co-workers is that we have a great rapport and we have each other’s backs. Today’s lunch was well overdue.

The FedEx delivery guy is waiting for me with a package in his hand. “For Mr. Antonio Avery,” he says, and I affix my electronic signature on his black box.

“Thanks, Kent.” I read the recipient’s name, but it’s been slightly torn. Since it required my signature, I figure it may be urgent so I go to Tony’s office to give him the package.

I push open the door, only to see the back of a tall woman with her arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, kissing him on the lips. I unthinkingly let out a gasp and promptly shut the door.

I dash to the ladies’ lounge. Liz is there, putting on make-up when she sees me come in.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I force myself to say.

“Boss not yet around?” she asks.

“No, he is. Just needed to freshen up.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” she says as she leaves me alone.

I sit on one of the chairs, not knowing what to do. I wipe at the tears that roll down my face with the back of my hand. I take in a deep breath to collect my thoughts.
You’re a fool, Olivia Harris. Did you really think you had a chance? That one night meant nothing. The kiss meant nothing.

I realize that it must have been his wife, Izabel. He wouldn’t be so brazen as to make out with another woman in his office, or would he? I don’t know anymore.

I go to the mirror to fix myself up, but the tear-stained eyes are a give-away. I bend over the lavatory to splash water on my face and, when I look up, I see Izabel come in, looking utterly beautiful and fashionably-dressed in a black and white shift dress.

“Are you alright?” she asks me in a pleasantly accented, melodious voice. She’s the second person to ask me that, so I must look really terrible.

“I’m fine, thank you,” I reply.

She just smiles and then proceeds to retrieve a compact from her purse. She pats her nose with the small powder puff. She looks at her face, turning left and right, checking for any flaws in her make-up. She’s perfection itself. How can anyone say no to her, especially her own husband?

I want to be alone with my thoughts, but the sight of her just makes me want to tear up even more, so I quietly leave the lounge. I have no choice but to go back to my desk. I just pray that he stays in his office till it’s time to go, but one look at his calendar and I remember that several people have appointments with him for the rest of the afternoon. So I put on a mask of indifference and get on with my work.

“Henry, it’s good to see you,” Tony says as I usher in Mr. Henry Stark, CEO of Stark Supplies and his last appointment for the day. I tidy up my desk, going through my to-do task list for the next week. I’ve managed to pretend all afternoon that everything is alright with my world, but I’m exhausted and I need to leave now. I must leave now. I don’t intend to linger and say goodnight.

I’m gathering my belongings when Tony and his guest leave his office.

“It was nice seeing you again, Tony,” Henry Stark says as they shake hands.

“Likewise, Henry. I’ll let you know, end of next week,” Tony says. I start walking towards the elevator, as well, but his voice stops me.

“Livie, can I have a word with you before you go?”

I turn around reluctantly and follow him to his office. He stands by the door and, when I’m inside, he gently closes the door behind him. I remain standing in front of his desk, but he motions for me to sit down and so I have no choice but to take a seat.

“I want to apologize for what you saw this afternoon.”

When he says this, I immediately stand up and say, “You don’t have to say anything. Your personal life is none of my business.”

He looks at me and continues as if he didn’t hear me speak. “Izabel can be rather…” he pauses and sighs.

“Please, there is no need to speak of this,” I say softly. “May I go now? I’m really tired.”

Once again, he stares at me in that indescribable way, but I don’t meet his gaze for long and I turn to leave.

“Livie…”

“Goodnight, Tony,” I say abruptly.

“Goodnight,” he replies gently. “We’ll talk again soon.”

We never talk again. Or, we do, but only about office matters. I sometimes have the feeling that he stares at me while my back is turned or that he wants to say something. But, I never give him the opportunity. Our primary mode of communication is through email and, for those times when I need a quick response, I’m in and out his office in a flash.

He still hasn’t gotten around to choosing an assistant but I’ve become wary of talking to Cassie about it. I’ve worked with him for two months now, and John has gotten tired of waiting for me so he’s hired someone from the temp agency to take my place in the meantime.

“Traitor!” I say to John over the phone.

“You’re blaming me? Every time I ask Margaret, she tells me the same thing. That Tony hasn’t chosen anyone. I’m starting to get the feeling that you’re no longer on loan.”

“Of course not. But you didn’t have to go replacing me,” I chide him.

“She’s a temp. My heart belongs to you,” he says laughingly.

“Sure it does.” I get it, though. Work was piling up and he had no choice but to bring in someone else.

“What’s Tony saying anyway?” he asks.

“Nothing. I can’t talk to him about it because I got a dressing down last time. Margaret told on me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was bugging Cassie and Margaret probably misunderstood. She told Tony, and Tony said I had no business following up with HR.”

“No way!”

“Yes, way.”

“Has he even interviewed any potential assistants?” he asks.

“Not that I know of. I’m here every single day, too, so I should know.”

“Hmmm. Well, I guess we just have to be patient?” he asks.

“Just wait for me. Don’t go hiring anyone on a permanent basis.”

“‘Kay. Talk to you later.” I put down the office phone when my own personal cell phone rings.

“Hi, Mark. How are you?” Mark rarely calls, so I’m curious about why he wants to talk to me.

“Not so good, Livie.” He sounds depressed so I probe further.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I just need your input on something,” he says.

“Okay, what about?” I look straight ahead and I see Tony coming out of the elevator. Before Mark can say a word, I tell him, “Wait, Mark, now is not a good time. Can we talk later?”

“Livie, I really need to talk to you,” he pleads.

“Did you send back the brochure samples to Washington?” Tony asks me. I shift the cell phone away from my ear and nod. Then, I hear Mark’s loud voice saying, “Livie, are you there? I need you now!” I redden in embarrassment and I see Tony looking incensed.
What’s he angry about?

I tell Mark, “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you in a bit, okay?” and then I hang up.

“Is there anything else?” I ask Tony in a dismissive tone since I see him still standing in front of my desk.

“No, you go ahead and attend to your boyfriend. He seems to be in dire need of your attention,” he says scornfully.
Jerk!

I speed-dial Mark’s cell and scold him, “Why were you being such a baby? What’s the big urgency?”

“Alicia just told me that she can’t do the long distance thing anymore. It’s getting in the way of her job,” he says in a monotone.

“And?”

“What do you mean – and?” he says angrily. “Obviously, I want to find a solution to the problem.”

“Look, Mark. You’re not an idiot. If a woman says that, she means it. Right now, her career matters to her more,” I tell it like it is.

“I find that hard to believe. Perhaps she wants a commitment of some sort?” He sounds desperate and I just have to nip his illusions in the bud.