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“What I mean is that you do your best, but you don’t kill yourself over this. I might ask some overtime, but it won’t be a regular thing.”
“Okay I get it. Thanks. I just want to do well here.”
“And that’s what we want too. To be honest, when I heard that I was going to get Bill’s protégée as my assistant, I was worried.”
“Protégée? Mr. McConnell’s protégée? We’ve never even met.”
Sandy seemed surprised. “Ah, well…”
“Does everything think that there’s something going on with us?”
“Oh no, that’s not it at all. It’s just that Bill has a habit of finding talent and making room for them in the company. Donnie was one of his first finds, and I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
Amanda tried to concentrate on the job, but the word “protégée” kept racing through her mind. What on earth did people really think of her? Much as she liked Bill McConnell, she didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. He wasn’t her sugar daddy.
When she spoke to Helen about it that night, Helen said, “Did you go into the job without any expectations?”
“Of course.”
“Then that’s all you have to answer for. Let everyone else think what they have to think to keep their world spinning. Their opinion of you is none of your business.”
“Yeah, but it can make work hellish.”
“You made things clear to your boss, right? And to Donnie?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let it go. Stop over-thinking things. Be brilliant at your job and nobody will have the right to complain.”
It was good advice and Amanda took it to heart. Though she wished she could find out where the protégée rumor began, she tried not to let it bother her. And since Bill McConnell never visited her office, she hoped the rumor would just die.
Then one afternoon she was on her way back up to her office after lunch and McConnell got into the elevator with her. He looked right at her as he entered but there was no flicker of recognition. But of course since they’d never met, he wouldn’t know who she was. She only knew him from the pictures on the Internet, and he was exactly what she’d imagined he would be in person. He was tall and elegant with perfectly barbered white hair, and a suit that probably cost a year of her salary.
Should she speak up? He deserved some thanks, she supposed. “Mr. McConnell?”
He turned, a look of mild surprise on his face. “Yes?”
“I’m Amanda, the operator from HostAssist.”
From his expression she had the impression that he had no idea who she was.
“We used to chat before conference calls.”
“We did?”
“Yes. I just wanted to thank you for any encouragement you gave Mr. Kingman with regard to hiring me.”
His brow furrowed. “Was this recently that we spoke?”
“Yes sir. I was at HostAssist for eighteen months just before I came here.”
Oddly, he chuckled. “You’re not thinking of me, Amanda. I retired two years ago. You’re thinking of my son, Bill Jr. I’ll pass along your thanks.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, think nothing of it. How long have you been with Forlanie?”
“A month.”
