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I get to work early the next day, and she shows up an hour later.
“I’m sorry,” she says as soon as she gets into my office. “I didn't know you’d be here early.”
I slowly sip out of my mug as I study her.
I can see how uneasy and worried she is which only works to my advantage.
She’s moving from leg to leg, unable to keep her balance, and avoiding my gaze while she awaits the next words from my mouth.
“I show up to work before my assistant,” I respond finally. “Surely you’re the boss here.”
Her eyes remain on the ground, and she doesn't utter another word.
“I thought Pamela talked you through your job description yesterday?”
“Yes, she did,” she replies promptly.
“Carissa, if you don't like working here, we won't hold you back,” I say, making sure not to take my eyes off her.
She looks up at me.
“I hear you initially interviewed for the position of editor. Why did you settle for the assistant role?” I ask, poking further.
“I love working here, sir,” she replies hesitantly, her voice conveying a message that her feelings are hurt.
“Then you’d better work hard,” I say dismissively. “Everyone at Oak does.”
As she turns to go, I knock lightly on my table to gain her attention once again.
“Help Pamela with whatever drafts she has left, will you? Also, cancel my meeting for 4:00 p.m. today,”
“Anything you would like me to replace at 4:00 p.m.?” she asks dryly.
“Nothing, I just need a break.”
When I don't say anything more, she still stands there looking at me until I say, “you can leave.”
I spend the rest of the day monitoring her activities around the office.
I wish I could stop myself, but I’m a little too deep into my thoughts to do that now. I have to be discreet as I watch her from a distance.
I notice how quickly she has gotten along with most of the other members of the team, but I can’t let her get too comfortable.
As soon as I spot her laughing or having a chat with anyone, I call for her attention and add to her daily tasks, including a few that are out of her jurisdiction.
I have to give her a lot of work to focus on so that she doesn't have any free time to relax or feel any level of comfort.
It just has to be done.
At lunchtime, she hurries behind Lydia and her little group. They had all been waiting for her to finish a task so they could all go together.
Now, what does she think she’s doing?
I call her into my office and watch as she gestures to the others to go without her.
“I will join you soon,” she reassures them before she walks into my office.
“Did you finish the drafts?”
