‘Then you better start now.’
I pulled up the file, fingers flying across the keyboard. The data was already there; I just needed to format it as per his specifications. Which were, of course, extremely specific.
Thirty minutes later, I printed it and knocked on Jai’s door.
‘Come in.’
I walked in and placed the report on his desk. ‘The procurement numbers you asked for.’
He glanced at the sheet. Frowned. Picked it up. ‘The vendor names aren’t alphabetised within each category.’
I stared at him. ‘Kavita didn’t mention that in the—’
‘It’s standard practice.’ He handed it back. ‘Redo it.’
‘The meeting is in fifteen minutes.’
‘Then I suggest you work quickly.’ He turned back to his computer, dismissing me.
I stood there for a moment, gripping the report, then walked out.
Kavita took one look at my face. ‘What happened?’
‘He wants it redone. Alphabetically.’
She sighed. ‘I’ll show you where the vendor master list is. You can copy–paste the order from there.’
I got it done with three minutes to spare. When I delivered it, Jai barely looked at it. ‘Fine. Leave it.’
Not a thank you. Not an acknowledgement that I’d just reformatted an entire report in twelve minutes. Just ‘fine’.
Then, Kavita gave me a second sheet of paper. ‘Need this done by four.’
‘Again?’ For the past two weeks, all she had been giving me were to-do lists that felt more like punishment than tasks for the COO’s assistant. Because of that, most days, I ended up attending only one meeting with Jai, during which he’d tell me off at least once. Tomorrow was her last day before maternity leave, and I was still figuring out how to be an assistant.
She raised her eyebrows.
‘What I meant was another list? Yay!’ I forced a grin and took the paper.
I spent the next five hours hand-delivering fabric swatches to production and marketing, sending packages to magazines for their editorial shoots and updating fabric movement in an Excel sheet.
Finally, I was on my last task: checking thank-you gifts for brand ambassadors.Checking, not even packing.
‘If this isn’t punishment, I don’t know what is,’ I grumbled. Two hours and a dozen boxes later, I was on my last one.
‘At least you’re not getting yelled at by him,’ Rhea’s voice floated through the speakerphone.
A bead of sweat trickled down my back as I looked at the packing list and the contents of this box. Mini lookbook?Check. Brooch?Check. A handwritten note?Check. Fabric care kit?Missing.
‘I’m sure he will make up for all this lost time once Kavita leaves.’
I sifted through the clutter on the desk, checking underneath it.Not here. I sighed and looked around the stockroom. Tall cupboards lined the walls. Had to be there.
‘Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad,’ she said as I scanned them. Thankfully, they were all labelled.
‘I’m telling you he hates me,’ I said. ‘Monday, he made me redo a brief twice because the margins weren’t “standard”. On Wednesday, he made me sit through a two-hour meeting to take notes, then told me my handwriting was illegible and I should’ve typed them. Yesterday, he sent back a summary report with corrections in red pen. Red pen, Rhea. Like I’m in primary school.’
‘Okay, that’s petty—’
