“Oh.”
A shredder sat on my desk, brand new.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
Okay. That was… noted.
Now, I almost feel bad for flipping him off.
“Finally!” Hartland said, stepping in behind me like he had just seen heaven. “If I get another papercut, I’ll sue.”
Aw, my poor little Hart.
I turned to him, leaning back against the desk.
“Hey,” I said casually. “What do you think about coming on board as my assistant? Full time.”
He blinked at me. “Is it still a hundred dollars a day?”
I stared at him.
“…we’ll circle back to that.”
“Marlon,”I pushed the door open without knocking and walked in. “I’m here! Clear your schedule.”
Hartland followed behind me, arms full of everything I needed—iPad, folders, loose notes, and the tape measure still hanging out his pocket.
Marlon didn’t look up right away. He finished whatever line he was reading with his glasses hanging low on his face and set his pen down neatly, then leaned back in his chair.
The room was smoky from the cigar in the ashtray near his files and the first thing I noticed was the lack of ventilation in this place.
Noted.
“…you brought the TaskRabbit?” he asked, glancing at Hartland.
“He has a name, Marlon. It’s Hartland,” I corrected. “Don’t be a rude prick.”
Marlon stared at both of us with another level of annoyance. That mean mug was dangerous and Hart must be scared because he immediately added;
“TaskRabbit is fine!”
Oh, but when it was me.
“Why is he still here, Aurora? If he does all your work, I might as well just hire him instead.”
“No need. I already did.”
Marlon’s eyebrow rose. “Did what?”
I just grinned. Marlon did not.
“You hired him?”
Hartland gave a small nod.
“Assistant,” he added.
Marlon’s eyes flicked between us. “I didn’t approve that.”
