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We stop at an office next door to Xavier’s. “This is Ray’s office. He should be back soon.” She opens the door and walks us to a smaller desk with a computer and telephone. “This is your desk.”
I look around the office. Similarly to Xavier’s, the space is ample, but this one has more personality. I don’t know if it’s because his furnishing is wooden, unlike the bright white in the CEO’s office. Or maybe it’s the picture frames on his desk or the sports trophies lining the shelf.
My desk is in a corner, facing Huxley’s one. I wish I had my little space outside the office like Francesca, but I appreciate my little privacy.
“How busy does it get?”
“It depends on what he wants you to do. Xavier handles all private matters on his own. I only manage his meetings and incoming calls. Ray might be the same.” She gives me a sheepish smile. “I’ve heard he’s quite full-on and harsh. He always expects one hundred per cent becausehegives one hundred.”
I take a seat in my office chair and nod. “Okay. At least I know what to expect. I can do this,” I say more to myself than her.
Her phone rings, making her roll her eyes. “I need to sort this out. I’ve given you your login and security pass. I’m guessing you know how to log into a computer and check emails?” she laughs.
I laugh with her. “Yeah – I hope so. Thank you.”
“Come to me if you need anything. I’m only around the corner.”
I thank her again and watch as she disappears to her tidy set-up. I peer out the glass walls to inspect the rest of the floor. In this corner, we are slightly hidden away. I can still see a few people, but there is a level of privacy that isn’t offered elsewhere. To my left, movement in Xavier’s office catches my attention. I can’t see his desk or seating area; only the refreshment table is visible.
His back flexes through his white shirt as he pours himself a coffee. When he turns around, his lips race as he talks on the phone. He looks confident and assured. It’s an attractive look. I move away from the doors before he can see me.
Pushing past boundaries, I walk behind Huxley’s desk to see who is so special they get a frame on his desk. I flop onto his seat – which is way more comfortable than mine – and pick up the frame. A small family smile at me. I don’t know them, but I find myself smiling at the joy on their faces.
“Gathering intel?”
“Fuck!” The frame almost shatters on the ground, but I catch it. I give Huxley a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear.”
He stares down at me, making me feel hot and bothered. “Why are you in my seat?”
I try to think of a reasonable excuse but fail. “Shall I go and tell Xavier I lasted a whole four hours?”
His eyes are hard, but there is humour on his lips. “No need. But I would like my seat back.”
Unwillingly, I get off his seat and watch as he takes over. He unlocked the top drawer of his desk to reveal a phone.
“Is that phone for business or pleasure?”
His eyes dart up to me. “Privacy.”
“What’s so private?” I ask.
“My family. Phones can be easily tracked and traced, so my personal phone stays here while I’m in the field. It’slockedin case you also try to snoop through that.”
His dry tone makes me laugh. “What does the COO do that he’s worried bad men will stalk him?”
With a dead expression, he says, “I help people disappear.” He doesn’t give me the time to figure out what that means or if he was joking. He points to the seat in front of him. “Let’s talk business.”
I cross one leg over the other to seem more professional. His eyes flicker to them before focusing back on me. “I’ve heard you’re a difficult man. Can’t seem to hold onto a PA for long.”
He crosses his arms, making his biceps bulge. “No one has been good enough. Let me tell you what I expect.”
He starts to list his never-ending demands: coffee in the morning, lunch pre-ordered, diary management, monitoring calls and emails, support in meetings where necessary, running errands – basically being at his beck and call 24/7, and he means it literally. According to him, his job is every minute of every day, so if he calls me on the weekend, I am expected to pick up the phone.
I am beginning to understand why everyone leaves.
“Can you handle it?”
No.“Yes. I will be the best personal assistant you have ever had.”
