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“Oh, Annie, you’re big time now.”
My hand falls to my stomach. “Don’t scare me. I’m terrified.”
He shakes his head. Is it odd that we’re having this conversation on the phone but still face-to-face? “You got this. Just remember what I said. Don’t let him railroad you.”
“I heard you.”
I want to tell him don’t worry. That Enzo Mancini isn’t the man we thought he was. That he’s given me more say and more credit than Mr. Beardsman ever did. Jake is blessed to work with Mr. Zilroy, who lets him pretty much follow his every move. He’s also about a hot minute away from retirement. I’m pretty sure Mr. Zilroy naps after lunch every day, but Jake, being the good assistant he is, makes excuses for him. One day it could be Jake and me in these offices.
Mr. Zilroy walks out of his office behind Jake.
“Turn around. Bye.” I hang up and go through my emails.
I try to get through them all, but I keep checking the clock. It’ll be nice when I can get rid of Mr. Beardsman’s correspondence from my list of responsibilities, but a rock of guilt sits in my stomach for abandoning a man who treated me so nicely for two years. The temps they’ve brought in are struggling, and I see now why Enzo probably went through so many. Maybe he wasn’t the problem. Then my eyes fall to the dry cleaning slip.
Nope, he was the problem.
“Ready?” Shelby knocks her knuckles on my desk. She’s wearing a full-fledged cat sweater. I mean that literally. Little floating cat heads with sequin eyes and mouths cover her green cable-knit cardigan.
“Yes.” I slide my desk chair out and grab my pen and paper. It isn’t until after I step away from my desk that I remember to grab the phone. “Hold on one second.”
“Yes?” Enzo answers.
I look through the glass door to find him leaning back in his chair with a smirk plastered on his face. I grip the phone tighter. This isn’t going to be good.
“Shelby and I are ready if you are, Mr. Mancini.”
“What did we just talk about?”
I clear my throat. “Are you ready?” I smile at Shelby, who looks at me quizzically.
“Say it.”
My jaw clenches and I lower my voice. “This is ridiculous.”
“Let’s practice again. Let it roll off your tongue. Ennnzzzooo.”
I glare into his office, and he looks as though a laugh is about to break his composed stature. I huff, and Shelby wanders away to tell Jake about the game of hide-and-seek she played with her cats this weekend and how Spunky found her every time.
I shield my mouth and the receiver. “Shelby and I are here… Enzo.”
He cradles the phone in his neck and applauds.
I roll my eyes, done with this game, and hang up. I try to mask my annoyance. “Ready, Shelby?”
She seems surprised, having been entranced in her reenactment of quality cat time this weekend. Jake widens his eyes and mouths “thank you” behind her back.
We step into his office, and Enzo’s smile at the two of us feels weird. Before I started working for him, I could probably count on one hand how many times I saw him smile.
“Please.” He signals to the chairs in front of his desk.
Shelby sits and crosses her ankles before pulling some papers from a file folder. Enzo straightens in his chair.
“Congratulations to you both on the Coddle account. I heard there was a snafu but you two hung in there.”
“Thank you, Shelby,” I say.
Enzo nods.
