Page 51 of Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)


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She looks up at me and fakes a smile. “Hey, sure. Back office on the farthest wall.” She gestures to the other end of the space. “Ask for Veronica.”

I grip my handbag tightly. “Okay, thank you.” I make my way to the office and stand by the door.

“Listen, if you continue to be lazy and not get through your work each day, I don’t have a position here for you. Do you understand me?” I hear a woman chastise.

“Yes, Veronica,” a man answers.

I swallow the lump in my throat and stand still. Shit, she sounds mean.

“Why weren’t these reports done on time?”

“I’ve been doing three people’s jobs, and I haven’t had time.”

“Then you make time,” she snaps. “Get back to work right now, and don’t make me call you in here again. I don’t have the time or the energy to follow you around doing your work for you, Marcus.””

“Yes, Veronica. It won’t happen again.” He turns and scurries past me, too rattled to even say hello.

The blood drains from my face.

“Yes?” she barks at me.

“Oh.” I pause and step into her office. “My name is Lottie Preston. I’m meant to be starting here today,” I whisper nervously.

She frowns. “Just a minute.” She dials a number on her office phone, looking me up and down as it rings.

I shrivel under her glare.

“Yes. I have a Lottie Preston here, says she’s starting today.” She listens for a moment. “Okay.”

I glance over at the door wondering if it’s too late to run.

She takes something out of her top drawer. “You’re in the mailroom, follow me.”

She stands and storms past me, and I swallow the lump in my throat. God, this woman is a rude pig. Not even an introduction? She’s short and stocky with a strawberry blonde bob. I follow her as she powers through the office.

Who was I kidding? This was a stupid idea.

“You’re on the tenth floor in the mailroom.” She passes me a security card. “This is your key to get around the building.”

I take it from her. “Thank you.”

We get into the elevator and she hits the button hard. “I’m your manager. My n

ame is Veronica, obviously, and as you probably just heard, I don’t tolerate laziness.”

My eyes widen.

“You’ll be on time, you will work hard, and you won’t gossip with colleagues and waste my valuable time. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” I murmur with wide eyes. “Of course.”

The doors open on the tenth floor and she storms out again. This floor is different. There are huge conference tables everywhere, and over in the back corner I can see five small desks. Only one woman and a man are sitting at them working on their computers.

“What are you doing, Paul?” Veronica snaps.

He spins on his chair, obviously not having heard us coming. “Hello, Veronica.” He smiles cheerily.

“This is Laurel,” she says to Paul, introducing me incorrectly.

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