Chapter 2 Step-dad Assistant

• There was no juicy gossip to be had here. I’d have to make do with my sordid fantasies of catching him in the act and my mother divorcing him and getting half his fortune.
• When I entered the elevator, I didn’t see a number listed for his floor. There was, however, a keycard slot near the bottom, which I assumed was meant for people like me. I slipped mine in and the panel sucked it in, holding it in place as some digital process read the card and instructed the elevator to take me to the appropriate floor.
• That, at least, was interesting, and a phenomenal way of keeping out solicitors and other unwanted visitors. If they couldn’t even find your floor listed, they couldn’t “stumble in by mistake.”
• I was surprised when the doors opened. The elevator had moved so fast and silently that I hadn’t realized we’d ascended thirty-three floors already. Not only that, but my stepfather’s inner sanctum was positively pristine, more so than I’d even imagined.
• It was the very definition of immaculate. The marble floors almost glowed, and the cherry wood pedestal desk waiting for me at the far end of the room had been so vigorously shined that the glare almost hurt. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found anywhere, not even on the antique chandelier glittering overhead. I was in awe, and I sincerely hoped that my stepfather didn’t think that part of my duties would involve keeping the lobby clean.
• I slowly walked over to the desk next to a set of double doors leading into his office. I opened the bottom drawer, inserted my purse, and sat on the tufted leather chair drawn up near the computer screen. I fussed with the mouse until it came to life, asking me for a password I didn’t yet have.
• I sighed, drumming my manicured nails on the desk and staring up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly eight. Where was William?
• While I waited, I dug into my purse and retrieved my phone, texting Derrick: Miss u. Txt later?? I didn’t receive a reply, but I hadn’t expected one. He was on California time right now, just like I would have been had my stepfather not decided to fuck up my life.
• Then I heard one of the double doors begin to open. I quickly put my phone away, only to see my stepfather walking toward me. Had he been here overnight?
• He certainly looked like it. He was ragged, his hair disheveled, his finely-tailored suit wrinkled and his tie loose. He had heavy bags beneath his eyes, and when he focused his bleary eyes on me, they were so bloodshot it was a wonder he could see anything at all.
• “Good,” he mumbled, “you’re here. Did you get coffee yet?”
• I looked around the lobby. I didn’t see a coffee maker or an espresso machine anywhere.
• “And where would I do that?” I asked him.
• William narrowed his eyes at me. Then he sighed, rubbed them with his wrist, and nodded to the elevator.
• “Go down to the mid-level. There’s a Starbucks there.”
• I stared at him. “Seriously? You have a Starbucks in your building?!”
• “I do.” He grabbed a pen from my desk and scribbled a note onto the back of a business card. “Get me this. Make sure they do it right. I don’t want to have to send you back down there.”
• I took the note from him. “But the phone…”
• He waved a hand dismissively. “Cheri won’t route a call up here unless it’s important.”
• “Someone could still call,” I objected, but he just walked back into his office.
• “Then I guess you’d better hurry up,” he said over his shoulder.
• I shook my head. This day just kept getting worse. If this was what I could expect from working for my stepfather, then I had to find a way to get under his skin and force him to fire me—fast.
• After getting him the coffee he’d ordered, William still sent me back three separate times to “fix” it, even though it was exactly what he’d ordered. As if to cement my determination to get out of this arrangement, he provided me very little training, or even a schedule of what I was supposed to do and when. Clearly, he wanted to impress upon me that life as a regular “working stiff” was a living hell, but it was obvious to me that he was making it out to be a lot worse than it actually was.
• I tried a few different methods of intentional sabotage. When I finally got a call from Cheri, I deliberately told William it was my mother, prompting him to answer the phone with, “Hi, sweetie.” He was able to laugh that off as a joke with the client, but I could tell he was furious with me, which was what I’d wanted.
• Then I made an absolute mess of the filing system, ensuring that when William returned from lunch, he had no idea where anything was. I played dumb and acted like I’d thought I was doing him a favor, but it was clear he wasn’t buying it.
• By the time three o’clock rolled around, however, I was out of ideas. There really wasn’t much to being my stepfather’s secretary, which made it difficult to screw anything up. I decided to check my phone and see if Derrick had ever texted me back.
• I glanced at the double doors to William’s office. They were closed, and it sounded like he was on some kind of conference call. Perfect, I thought. Now’s my chance.
• I gleefully pulled my phone out of my purse in the drawer and scrolled through the three messages Derrick had sent me since I’d texted him this morning.
• Miss u 2, babe.Lonely here w/o u.? By myself today in the hotel room.
• I texted him back, frowning. Alone? U ok?