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On. His. Phone.
“Sure, no problem. I have you down for one fifteen on Monday. We’ll see you then. Thanks, and you have a good day, too.”
She continued typing on what looked like his in-office calendar, one that he’d been trying to access for two weeks. Tapping the last key, she clicked away with the mouse, then turned around to face him, a bright, cheery smile on her face.
The woman was one-hundred-percent psychotic.
“You do realize that you don’t work here, correct?” he asked, deciding to start out with the simple questions before determining her mental capacity. With the year she’d had, she might very well have had a mental break.
“Not yet.” She delivered another smile and continued like he hadn’t said anything. “Now I’ve got your mail organized here in order of importance—or what I think is relative importance. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of dumping all the junk mail into a box that I’ve started for your recycling.” She motioned to the box behind her that was already nearly full.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding here, so I’m going to speak very slowly. I did not hire you. You do not work here.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s obvious that you need someone helping out. Did you know that your calendar hasn’t been updated since last October?”
Of course he did. Not since Poppy worked here and had figured her way through the old archaic computer system. “Which is another thing. How did you know my passwords to even get on to the computer?”
She pulled out the middle drawer and pointed. “Because you have everything written right here. I actually wanted to talk to you about that. It’s not very safe to have those passwords so easily accessed. Anyone could just walk in here and access everything.”
“You don’t say?” He was starting to feel like he was losing his mind. Maybe he’d just wait her out. Let her make all the points she wanted to make before he sent her on her way.
“It’s true,” she said, not catching his sarcasm. Or ignoring it. “I would think you, a guy whose job is digging into people’s sordid backgrounds using things like, say, computer systems, would have a better handle on these types of things.”
“I handle myself just fine,” he said.
Most of the time anyway. Unless a case required someone with an eye for hacking and cyber sleuthing, which was when he would outsource the work to his friend Mackenzie. That was the beauty of being a one-person operation. You did what was in your wheelhouse and outsourced everything else, saving money and the aggravation of hiring actual employees.
“Of course you do,” Waverley said, ignoring his gruffness. She sat back, her hands resting on her lap as she looked around his office, her wide brown eyes shining with enthusiasm. “I was also thinking how a nice, fresh coat of paint on the walls would really brighten the place up. Maybe even switch that rug out for something in a style from this century. The couch, that’s great. Soft and comfortable and obviously new, but those magazines you have are seriously dated, and the table could stand a good polish.”
“Is that everything?” he asked, willing to humor her a moment longer.
She gave the place another look around before facing him. “For now,” she said before her pink-tinged lips curled up into a warm smile that only brightened her eyes and that he was not going to let deter him from sending her on her way.
“Okay, then let’s be clear. I’m not hiring you to work here, Ms. Abbott.”
She didn’t even blink as she shot back, “Give me one good reason why not.”
He hadn’t expected that. He took a second. “Because, for all I know, you’re here to wreak havoc on my business and my life as some sort of payback.”
She burst into laughter. “Come on. Be serious.”
He didn’t say anything. He might not have realized until he’d said it that that was exactly what he was worried about.
“Oh, you mean it.” She dropped her gaze to her lap and nervously pressed out invisible wrinkles from her skirt. “Look. I know you don’t know me very well, but if you did, you would know that every position or task I undertake I work my hardest to not just complete but go far beyond expectations. If you hire me, I promise you won’t regret it. I know I can do a good job here.”
Guilt kicked him in the gut. “Why can’t you just go find a job working as a receptionist at some nice dentist office? I’m sure someone’s hiring in Denver.”
“For one, because I don’t live in Denver anymore. And two…” She bit her lip, looking like she might actually be about to cry. Hell. “And two, because my face and my name have been splashed across every tabloid and every news story. If the board at the Abbott Foundation is going to ask me to step down from my duties, why would any other business want to risk hiring me? Believe me, I’m well aware of the public sentiment surrounding me and this case. People either think I’m an idiot for not seeing what had to be in front of my face or I was complicit in some way. Leaving me, for the time being, untouchable.”
She said this last so quietly, so forlornly, that he shifted, uncomfortable with this truth.
Knowing he was in part responsible for it.
“How about we just try this on a temporary basis?” she asked, sensing his resistance wavering. “One week. You give me one week, and if I haven’t proven my worth, you can fire me. No questions asked.”
No questions asked? Somehow he doubted that.
He studied Waverley Abbott a long moment. She had been through a lot. And yet despite it all, she was coming out the other side of it, from all appearances with that cheerful demeanor and go-get-’em attitude, even better than before.
