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“I said: Mister! I’ll be there lickety-split.”
“Do you have to say catchphrases like that all the time?”
You used to love my catchphrases.
“Yes—or I’ll die. Catchphrases are my lifeblood. Do you really want all that mess on your hands, Your Bossiness?”
He grunts. “It would seem you’re awake now.”
“I’m so awake I could charge the whole city with my brainpower. I’m going to take over the world, Pinky.”
“Can you just record my workout instead?” he says, not even acknowledging my wonderfully old-schoolPinky and the Brainreference.
“Sure, sure. But after that—I’m going to besoready for world domination. We’re going to have a blast together, just you wait.” I click brew on the coffeepot I thankfully preloaded with water and coffee grounds last night.
“Super,” he says, and I can’t figure out his tone. Is he angry or is he trying not to laugh? Probably angry.
“Okay, gotta go. Be there in a flash, mustache.”
He grumbles, “On second thought…maybe I don’t need for you to film for me.”
“See you soon, raccoon!” I smile into the phone because now that I know he doesn’t like these phrases, this job is going to be a little more fun.
I tap my pencil on my desk, anticipating that my phone will buzz at any moment. How do I know it will buzz? Because apparently when Derek puts his mind to something, he really commits. He rarely lets me have any downtime before calling with a new command. It’s only been two weeks on the job, and I’m exhausted.
I’ve figured out his tactic by now: Never allow Nora time during the day to accomplish actual work. Keep her busy with annoying stuff at all costs.
Which is why I’ve been working until the early hours of the morning getting the important stuff done like responding to email inquiries, researching interview and appearance opportunities, and talent-scouting online for potential clients. My nights are full of agent productivity, but my days…not so much.
I’ve washed and detailed Derek’s SUV, run busy errands for him all over California (yes, sometimes going so far that I’m forced to make a day trip out of it), reorganized his closet (which was actually really fun and also gave me the chance to use my emergency sewing kit to mend a few articles of his clothing—specifically raising thehemline an inch on only the right leg of each of his pants). And of course I’ve had to unsubscribe him from all junk emails he’s ever received in the last several years because isn’t that every professional agent’s responsibility? At this rate, I’ll never grow Derek’s career or have time to scout other clients. He’s making sure I want to quit.
And any of the endorsement deals Derek’s been offered and I’ve brought to his attention? Forget it. He never lets me finish pitching them before he cuts me off with another chore to accomplish. Which is really starting to stump me, because even though I know this is all a ploy to make me so miserable I supposedly quit, he hasn’t truly intended to go through with it, right? I guess I thought this would be something he’d get out of his system and then we could all move on happily into the grown-up realm of business. He needs a good agent. He’s a smart guy—and should know that he’s at the point of jeopardizing growing his income with how many opportunities he’s passing up. It’s starting to feel like there’s something else at play I haven’t considered.
There’s even a top-of-the-line suit company, Dapper, that wants to pay Derek an enormous amount of money to represent their brand and star in their next commercial. But Derek said no immediately because he was too busy and couldn’t take a day off from training. I can’t quite explain it, but I’m starting to get the feeling that excuse is nothing but BS.
I’m supposed to give Dapper an answer by the end of the day today, but I’m dreading severing that lucrative connection.
Another problem is the tug of my traitorous heart in the rare moments when Derek does something unexpected. Something like handing me a water bottle if we’ve been outside too long. Always making sure I’m fed when he keeps me busy with tasks. Pretending he doesn’t see me if I accidentally nod off on the job from the superearly mornings combined with my sleepless nights. Yesterday, I could have sworn I fell asleep sitting at his kitchen island while going through his emails, but when I woke up, I was lying on his couch with a blanket. I asked him if he knew anything about that and he shrugged and said I must have sleepwalked.Not likely.
And it’s in these small moments when I realize that the old Derek—my Derek—is still in there somewhere. The Derek who would blow me a kiss from the field before every game in college. The Derek whose hands felt like the first day of summer when you’ve been seasonally depressed for too long. Who would wink and make my stomach dip. And let me tell you—no one can wink like Derek. Most people try and it makes them look like a creep who might follow you out to your car. Not Derek. It looks so effortless and genuine. Like you’re both in on this extravagant, delicious secret together.
Against all odds, I’m still enormously attracted to him. I need to get a lock on my feelings. Because if there’s one thing I’m certain of after working closely with Derek all week: He doesn’t like me, or at best doesn’t want to.
A knock sounds at my office door.
“Come in,” I say in complete despair.
The door opens and I peek up through my lashes to see Nicole lean her pencil-skirted hip against my doorframe. Today she’s in her gorgeous black power suit. It wraps around her body tightly and screamsDon’t mess with all this!It’s hard not to have a girl crush on her.
She crosses her arms and lifts a brow. “Napping at work?”
“No,” I groan into the crook of my arm. “I’m giving up. This is my giving-up position.”
“So soon?” She pauses and then casts a disgusted glance around my office. “Then again, I would too if I had to work in here every day. Gross. How do you have a window but still no natural light?”
“The sun only comes through for five minutes sometime between two-thirty and two-forty-five each day.”
“It’s oppressive.”
