“Yes! He’s on his way. Should be hereanyminute.” She frowned and added, “Please don’t leave.”
“You’re his… assistant?”
She nodded, the desperation plain on her face.
Rose knew the feeling, and the job, well. Her last position as an administrative assistant had gone from wonderful to torturous. She wasn’t sure when the change had happened, but looking back made it obvious that things had been bad for a while.
“Okay. I won’t leave.” Rose sighed. “I’m going to get a pumpkin spice latte. Do you want one?”
Lydia shook her head. “No, but thank you.”
Rose never used to accept treats at work, either. It felt like the right thing to do – to deny that she would like a donut, or a coffee, or enough time between meetings to run to the bathroom.
What had she been trying to prove? Her dedication? Her worth? That she was a machine who would do anything for the company, no matter how tired she was, and despite the fact she’d worked seven weekends in a row without a single day off?
A fat lot of good that did. They’d fired her anyway. After eight years of toil and devotion, one random Tuesday morning she looked up from her desk to see security standing over her, telling her to pack her things.
She got to the front of the line and placed her order, then stepped aside, the memories churning within her. It had been months since she’d gotten fired, yet the nausea hit as if she was staring into that little box of her belongings again, blinking back tears as she walked past her coworkers, unable to make eye contact with anyone.
“Two pumpkin spice lattes for Rose!” the barista called out.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, accepting them before walking back to Lydia. “I got you one anyway, and I’m sorry if you wanted something else, but you really should’ve told me.”
Lydia laughed, accepting the green-and-white cup. “Wow, thank you. I love pumpkin spice lattes.”
“I know, right? Everyone makes fun of it but they’resogood. What’re you supposed to do?Notenjoy them?”
“Right. They taste better than being smug feels.” She smiled, taking a sip before sticking her hand into the air and waving. “Oh, he’s here!”
Rose turned and spotted a suit-clad man walking toward them. He had short black hair and a neatly trimmed beard, and his dark grey suit jacket hung open in a casual sort of way. His expression was hard, his mouth set in a line, and his eyes focused on Rose.
He didn’t look like the type who tooknofor an answer.
“Do you like working for him?” Rose said under her breath.
“Yes, I do.”
She leaned closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I meanreally. Is your life falling apart because of your job being too demanding and him asking too much?”
Her eyes widened. “Not at all. I love this job, and the company. It’s awesome!”
An unconvincing answer. Rose might’ve said the same thing a few years ago, before she had been hit by a tidal wave of humiliation from an unceremonious sacking.
He reached them and extended a handshake. “Hi. I’m Craig Mitchell.”
Rose accepted it with a nod. “Nice to meet you.”
“I just saw your interview on KPXI and I was blown away.”
“Ha.” Rose clenched her coffee with both hands. “Thanks.”
“I’m not going to waste your time. I’d like to offer you a job at my company.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Uh, that’s nice, but – “
He put his hands up. “Before you say no, give me a chance to tell you more about what you’d be doing.”
She stared at him, his hazel eyes wide and full of hope. As badly as she needed a job, she couldn’t keep pretending to be Rose Woodson, PhD, when she was just Rose Woodley with a bachelors in biology and a too-tight jacket.
