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“So he does have a sister?”

“Actually, I don’t know,” she admits. “If he has, he’s never mentioned her. I know he has an older brother, and only because he asks me to send him a birthday gift every year. Pappy Van Winkle bourbon.”

“Generous,” I murmur, taking a sip of my own drink. “How long have you been working for him?”

“Four years,” she says, rubbing her thumb along the base of her engagement ring, as I’ve noticed is a habit. Shelley’s pretty in an understated kind of way. I mean, I sort of want to loosen her bun, and I think she’d be better suited to black mascara than the too-blah brown she’s wearing, but I suppose she couldn’t be more perfect as Andrew’s assistant. There’s a quietness about her that I’m sure he lovvvvves.

If he even notices.

“So what’s the plan for the rest of your day?” she asks.

“Great question,” I say, spinning on the chair again. “We didn’t really talk it through when we came up with this little arrangement.”

“How did it come about?”

I shrug. “Basically, we’ve been engaged in a cold war for a few months. Things came to a head a couple of days ago when he said I could never survive in his world of suits and structure. So I’m here to prove it. Except I can’t prove much of anything now that he’s kicked me out.”

“Well, for privacy reasons, he really can’t have you around for his phone calls,” she says kindly.

I sigh. “I know. Is it always this…boring?”

“It’s actually usually pretty nuts around here. But Fridays are our slowest day. In fact, the call he’s on now is his last scheduled call of the day.”

“Really,” I say, putting my toe on the floor to stop my spinning. “So he has the afternoon free?”

Shelley surprises me by laughing. “I don’t think Mr. Mulroney even knows what a free afternoon is.”

“Does he ask you to call him that? Mr. Mulroney? After four years?”

“Well, no,” she says. “But he’s never exactly said ‘Call me Andrew’ either.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” I agree, my mind spinning with options. “So, if he doesn’t have any meetings, what does that mean you have to do the rest of the afternoon?”

She lifts her shoulders. “Surprisingly, I’m pretty caught up on everything. Mostly I answer the phone, make sure paperwork’s in order for next week.”

“Watch the clock?” I guess.

She smiles guiltily. “Fridays are worse than others. And John’s taking me champagne tasting tonight.”

“Oooh, date night! What are you wearing?”

Shelley blinks at me, then looks down. “This?”

“Oh!” Whoops.

Shelley laughs. “I know. Fashion’s not really my thing, but I know enough to know that your dress is fabulous.”

I glance down at the royal blue sweater dress. “Honestly, this is the most demure thing I own. Didn’t want to give him one more reason to dislike me.”

“If he dislikes you, why would he bring you here?”

I smile. “He didn’t. I sort of forced his hand. And note the closed door. Probably locked.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s playing solitaire, waiting for me to leave.

“Nah, that light means he’s still on the phone,” she says, pointing at her own phone. “Oh! He just hung up.”

Perfect. I slip my bare feet back into my suede high-heeled boots and stand. “Thanks for the chat!” I tell her with a smile. “I’ll see if I can’t get him to let you go early.”

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