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“Denise?”
Her jaw tenses but loosens immediately. Doesn’t matter, I’ve already read her body language. “Your previous assistant.”
“Oh yeah. My assumption is that her notes are on her desk, but I’m fairly sure she’s done nothing.” I stare at the screen in front of me. The words are perfect, and this presentation is the best I’ve done on something family related. How I got chosen for an ad campaign geared toward families who buy diapers, I haven’t a clue, but if I can sign this client, I’m a shoo-in for partner.
“I’ll go check and I, um…” She straightens her back. False bravado. “I have to leave at four.” She swivels on her heels to leave.
“Nope. I need you in the room to take notes for me.”
Her fake smile falters, and a look I’m used to getting from my assistants transforms her face. No longer are those cheeks slightly pink with a flush. Her eyes are shooting red and her muscles tense. “I am doing this as a favor. I had planned to have the afternoon off since Mr. Beardsman is off too. I’m helping because you’re in a bind. I don’t sit in on Mr. Beardsman’s meetings, so I don’t see why I would sit in on yours.”
If I didn’t love Teddy, I’d tell his assistant she doesn’t sit in because he keeps her at arm’s length on purpose. I may not hold my assistant’s hand through preparation of my presentations, or even allow any input from them, but they’ve all sat through pitches. They’ve seen the good, the bad—hell, one of them saw me practically beg once at the beginning of my career.
I sit up straighter. “I’m curious, Miss…?”
“Stewart. Annie Stewart.” Her jaw tics.
“Miss Stewart, other than having dance parties in the break room, I assume you must value your job. My other assumption is you’re not interested in being an assistant forever, otherwise you would have told Shelby to shove it and hopped on that elevator, to hell with the consequences.”
Her eyes fixate on my steepled fingers.
“Watching me pitch to what could be our biggest client is a huge opportunity for your career. You’re willing to let that go for some primping before your Friday night date?”
Her chest rises and falls, her gaze meeting mine. “Of course, you’re right. I’d be happy to sit in on the pitch.”
“Would you like to have dinner after?” I ask.
She huffs and turns around to leave.
I chuckle. “A celebratory dinner with the clients, of course.”
She turns back to face me and swallows. I’m unsure why I’m enjoying this. I shouldn’t. She’s right, she did me a favor by sticking around. Although since she’s Teddy’s assistant, I don’t hold out hope she’s worth much as far as talent. I’ll probably be leading her the entire way this afternoon.
“That would be great. Thank you, Mr. Mancini.”
“Enzo.”
Her eyes widen a fraction of an inch, but I catch it.
“Call me Enzo.”
“Then feel free to call me Annie, not Erin.”
“We’re not equals here, Miss Stewart. Better to remember that.”
She blinks but doesn’t say anything, leaving my office while probably wishing she could slam the door.
Once again, rather than annoying, I find her amusing for some reason.
* * *
I stepinto the boardroom at three thirty and color me impressed. Trays of refreshments have been set in the middle of the table. Each chair setting has a bottle of water from a brand we handle the advertising for. Each person’s packet has been printed and set in front of each chair.
I straighten my suit jacket and smooth out my tie while I soak in the room. Maybe I was wrong about Miss Stewart. I straighten a few of the binders. “Nice.”
“I already had the tech department come in, and everything is set for you when you’re ready to present.” She signals to my computer and the white screen in front of the oval table.
“Thank you.”
