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JULIET
Monday is herebefore I’m ready.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready, but between visiting my mom at Meadow View and psyching myself up to be Super Spy, I’ve hardly slept a wink.
Not to mention all the brain cells that I’ve wasted, thinking about Caleb Sterling.
The kiss.
The body.
The smirk.
The every last little thing.
I was tempted to wear my own clothes on my first day, just to show Mr. High-and-Mighty that contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t own everyone, but that would be putting the mission in jeopardy. I need to fly under the radar, and to do that, I’ve got to be in Sterling’s good graces.
So I arrive at the Sterling Cross headquarters bright and early at 8 a.m, even though the packet Victoria sent me said the workday doesn’t start until 8:30. The early bird gets the worm, and all that. I’m wearing a gorgeous heather gray sweater dress and pumps that does wonders for my self-esteem.
The price tag was a thousand dollars, so it’s no wonder I feel like a million bucks.
That is, until Victoria meets me in the atrium. She gives me a once-over and says, “I see you got the clothes I had ordered.”
Oh. It was her.
I should be relieved, but instead, I can’t help feeling a little disappointed. “Thank you.” I say quickly.
“Mr. Sterling didn’t want your attire to be an issue.” She sneers. “We have a standard here at Sterling Cross. You understand.”
I understand that Victoria clearly doesn’t like me. Eyes on the prize. I reassure myself. What’s that they say in all those reality TV shows? I’m not here to make friends.
I trail behind her through the office, keeping up as best I can as Victoria gives me a whistle-stop tour. “This is the corporate office—PR, marketing, product distribution, retail,” she says, whisking me through a bright, open-plan office floor, with tons of glass and stylish brick. “The workshops and design studios are downstairs, but there’s a lot of running back and forth. Keep sneakers at your desk,” she adds. “You’ll be the one doing the running.”
“Got it. Sneakers.”
We arrive at the corner office, which has its own reception area, complete with two desks flanking the impressive double doors.
“This is mine.” Victoria points to one meticulously organized one. Then she points to the much smaller one, like a child’s school desk, which has the misfortune of being in the middle of the floor, open to attack by anyone walking by. “That’s yours.”
Fantastic. So much for privacy to snoop.
I set my things down on the mini-desk and she hands me my credentials and shows me how to access my computer and calendar. Or rather, she rattles off a string of instructions so fast, I can’t keep up.
“Wait. Can you explain that again?” I ask as she’s reading off Caleb Sterling’s ridiculously packed daily schedule.
She lets out a sigh. “Forget it. It’s not important. I’m the one who’s going to be in charge of his schedule, for the most part. You’ll only have to fill in when I’m not available.” She nudges my hand away from the mouse and pulls up a grid that’s a sea of appointments. “Here it is. You hit that tab if you want to see it. Got it?”
I nod, noticing he’s in an appointment all morning, downtown. He won’t be in all day.
I feel relieved. This is good. Now, I’ll know when he’s around… but more importantly, when he’s not. I’ll have plenty of time to get a look at his computer files. The sooner I get Olivia the evidence she needs, the sooner I can pay my mother’s nursing home bills and get far away from Sterling Cross.
“What else will Mr. Sterling need from me?” I ask, taking notes.
Victoria snorts.
“Think of yourself as my assistant. Doing what I tell you.”
“But Mr. Sterl—”
