I’d long given up on her arriving early to meet me for anything because she was always five minutes late. She literally lived right across the street from the building and she never ceased to amaze me with her endless excuses as to why she couldn’t be on time.
Ten minutes past six, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Fifteen minutes past six, I wondered if my previous thoughts of her being the most incompetent assistant I’d ever had were true, and at twenty minutes past six, I caved in and called her desk.
“Yes, Mr. Leighton?” she answered on the first ring.
“Did you forget that we’re supposed to discuss the winter selections today?” I asked. “You know how I feel about things needing to be on time.”
“Oh, right! I am so sorry! I got caught up on these reports, but I’m on my way.”
She hung up, and within minutes she walked into my office carrying a box of assigned novels. She placed it on my desk and sat across from me.
“Wait.” She held up her hand. “Before we start, can I ask you something personal?”
“No.”
“What if it’s something important?”
“It can’t be important if it’s something ‘personal,’ because you’re not entitled to know anything about my personal life.”
“Are you really as bad as all the tabloids say you are?” She raised her eyebrow. “Like, when do you possibly find the time to sleep with so many women since you’re always here working?”
I could’ve sworn I said no ...
I gave her a blank stare.
“I deserve to know what type of man I’m working for,” she said, crossing her arms. “Especially if this man wants me to keep the truth about how difficult he is to work for under wraps.”
“Are you threatening to blackmail me?”
“No.” She smiled. “I just really want to know if your sex life is as exciting as the press makes it seem. I actually think it’s pretty hot, and off the record, I am totally willing to look past the non-fraternization policy if you ever want to try me out.” She lowered her voice. “I can be naughty in the bedroom, too. I can let you have my pussy, and you can leave me hanging in the hotel lobby afterwards, if that’s what you’re into.”
Jesus...
“Can we please get started with the work?” I rolled my eyes. “I need your thoughts on the titles you were assigned so we can send them down to marketing tomorrow.”
“So, right after that I can go?”
No, right after that I can ‘fire’ you ...
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “What did you think of Grisham’s latest?”
“His latest what?”
“His latest book.” I pointed at the box she’d brought in, at the advanced copy of The Whistler. “It was one of the three legal thrillers you were supposed to read this month.”
“Oh, yeah.” She picked up the hardback and flipped through its pages. “I thought it was very good. Very legal, very thrilling.”
“Can you please be slightly more specific than that?”
“I really liked the book’s cover a lot.” She ran her fingers across the cover. “He really pulled me into the story with it, you know? This image of the boats docked at an orange sunset sea was quite compelling. I think the graphic artist definitely deserves an award.”
Silence.
“We’ll come back to the thrillers,” I said finally. “You were also supposed to read five romance novels. Which one would you recommend the most?”
“Well,” she said, leaning forward and pouring herself a cup of coffee. “It was a hard choice, and I do mean a really hard choice, but ... Out of the amazing ones I was assigned, I think loved the one that ended in a happily ever after the best.”
“Every romance novel ends in a happily ever after, Penelope.” I felt my blood pressure rising. “That’s what makes it a fucking romance.”
“Really? Wow. I never knew that. So, I guess I loved them all!”
I stared at her, clenching my jaw. I always thought she was on the incompetent side from the very day she started, from the moment she said, “So, you’re a literary publishing company and you only publish books? Why not movies?” And somehow, I’d managed to look past that. But this? This was bullshit and she was far worse than any of my other failed and fired assistants.
“Have you read any of the front-list books, Penelope?”
“No, but only because I didn’t know that I personally had to.” She slurped her coffee. “I mean the books got read, but you never said that I was the person who actually had to read them.”
“What the hell are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m working really smart here. I hired a virtual assistant and paid her a couple hundred bucks to read all of them. Oh, and I sent a few of them to some book bloggers on Facebook that I follow. They like, totally live for this reading stuff so they’ll probably have those ARCs done even sooner. Can you believe they like, actually enjoy reading?”