the computer. Paul waited a couple seconds, then left me.
I stared for a while at my computer but couldn't make
much sense of the words on the screen.
At ten-fifty, Vivian click-clacked into the office on her
expensive high heels. She carried an immense mug, the
sort you buy at the convenience store and use for refils on
fountain drinks. It looked out of place against her high-
profile suit and jewelry, but she clutched it like she'd kil
anyone who tried to take it.
"Paige." She nodded. After a second she remembered to
smile, too.
"Vivian." I didn't get up from my desk, though I did take
my hands from the keyboard. "Paul said you wanted to
meet at eleven. He's in his office. I'l be in when I'm
finished with this last file."
My smile stretched the corners of my mouth, but I didn't
feel it in my eyes. Vivian took a long, gurgling swig from
her mug and went into Paul's office without more than a
swift rap of her knuckles on the door frame to announce
her arrival. My victory was smal but mighty. She couldn't
complain I wasn't being prompt, but I'd made it clear I
wasn't going to be rushed, either.
I'm not a fan of scary movies, especialy the kind where
the girl knows there's something awful in the basement or
attic but goes in anyway, armed with only her ear-piercing
screams and a wooden spoon or something. Facing Paul's
office felt that stupid to me. I knew what they wanted to
talk about, and I knew I didn't want to discuss it.
I liked working for Paul, even if I was "only" an executive assistant. It wasn't, frankly, al I intended to be. Not
forever. But for now. Moving into another position,
working for another person didn't appeal to me even
though I knew it should, but I didn't want to work for
Vivian Darcy. I didn't like her, and I didn't think she liked
me, which made her sudden interest al the more
disturbing.
Despite al that, at 11:00 a.m. exactly I pushed away from
Despite al that, at 11:00 a.m. exactly I pushed away from
my desk and knocked on Paul's door. They were laughing,
their heads bent together, when I knocked, and they both
looked up. Paul put distance between them at once,
pushing back in his roling chair. Vivian didn't move. Her
mug rested with familiarity on the edge of Paul's desk.
I hadn't brought him coffee but he stil sipped from a venti
Starbucks cup, so I figured he was al right. I took the
chair in front of the desk but kept it back far enough that
my knees didn't come close to the wood. I crossed my
legs, watching her, not him, and she gave me a level stare
in return.
"So. Paige." Vivian's smile didn't warm me any more than
it ever had, though I thought she'd put more effort into it.
She tucked a short blond curl behind her ear with French-
tipped fingers and didn't say anything else.
I smiled, too.
Paul cleared his throat after a few seconds and leaned his
elbows on the desk. "Paige, Vivian's been working with
the marketing department to create some entry-level
positions. The idea is to get expansion going on, starting
from the ground up. They're looking to hire in-house,
from the ground up. They're looking to hire in-house,
people they feel wil be an asset to the department."
"And you feel I'd be an asset to your department?" I
watched her face carefuly as she answered.
Her gaze flicked so briefly toward Paul and back to me I
was supposed to miss it. She might not even have known
she looked at him first, that's how fast it was. But I didn't
miss it.
"Oh, yes," Vivian said. "Absolutely. Paul's spoken so winningly of you."
Seriously, what the fuck? Aside from the fact I was pretty
sure she hadn't used it correctly, who ever says
"winningly"? Except, of course, a woman who's trying to
find something flattering to say to a woman she doesn't
realy like.
And then I understood it.
Paul and Vivian were fucking. They were very good about
hiding it, more discreet than a lot of interoffice couples I'd
come across. But there it was, the truth slapped down on
the desk between al of us like a gauntlet. They were
lovers and her dislike for me had nothing to do with
lovers and her dislike for me had nothing to do with
anything as simple as my clothes or education. It was al
about my blond hair and blue eyes and the size of my tits
and ass. She thought I had her on the run.
"I haven't seen the jobs posted on the board," I said
without bursting into sudden laughter.
Vivian looked at her gigantic mug but resisted drinking
from it. "They're not going up for open applications until
after we've interviewed the people we have already
prescreened. We'd realy like you to consider an
interview."
I didn't know much about how human resources works, or
the hoops anyone's required to jump through in the name
of being politicaly correct, but that didn't sound quite right
to me. At any rate, I nodded as though it made perfect
sense. Paul smiled and looked back and forth between us.
I couldn't look at him. Not because I'd figured out Vivian
thought he and I might be having a fling but because I was
convinced they had. And it wasn't any swinging of my
moral compass toward judgment, either, but more about
the fact I didn't want to believe he had such bad taste.
"Can I ask you why you prescreened me? Aside from
Paul's recommendation." I knew my smile for him had to
be a sliver in her skin, but I didn't care. "I don't have any
background in marketing. I have a business-school degree
from Harrisburg Area Community Colege."
"There's a certain amount of on-the-job training we're
expecting to provide."
I'd spent enough time around people who couldn't stand
silence to understand how powerful it can be. I nodded
instead of speaking, even to murmur what could be
construed as consent. Vivian looked at Paul, but he and I
had already established our lack of need for speech to
communicate.
She cleared her throat to draw his attention and then
drank, at last, from her mug. "Paul has spoken so highly of
you, Paige, and your background can only help you. This
is a great opportunity."
"Could you explain why?"
Her lips parted, and she drank again instead of answering
me right away. When she put the mug down on Paul's
desk the sloshing from inside had lessened considerably.
She looked at him again with her brow furrowed. Clearly,
the fact I wasn't jumping up and down for joy to leave
behind my dreary life as a secretary for the bright, shiny
world of junior whatever-thefuck confused her.
"You'd be salaried, not hourly," she said. "And of course, there'd be more responsibility."
I kept my eyes on Paul. "I have plenty of responsibility."
We al laughed, though she didn't sound amused. She
drank again and her mug rattled with the unmistakable
sound of emptiness. She put the cup down with a final-
sounding thud.
"This would be different," she said flatly.
The men I knew were more often insensitive rather than
purposefuly cruel, obtuse rather than inattentive. Paul was
more in tune than most and, smile fading, he turned to her.
I wondered if he'd only just now figured out her real
reasons for wanting me out of his office.
The silence went on long enough to make it officialy
awkward. Then Vivian stood. "Excuse me a minute."
awkward. Then Vivian stood. "Excuse me a minute."
I was surprised she'd lasted as long as she had. My
kidneys would have been floating. Neither of us said
anything as she went into Paul's bathroom and closed the
door firmly behind her.
He turned to stare at me. "Paige."
"Let me just get something straight, Paul. This isn't even an
interview for the new position. I'm interviewing for an
interview for a job I've been preselected for, right?" I leaned forward and caught his gaze with mine.
Paul hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."
Back straight, chin lifted, I sat back in my chair and
recrossed my legs. From the bathroom I heard the sound
of running water. I kept my expression neutral, though I
had no doubt he could tel my mood even through the
steady monotone of my voice.
"Then I deserve to know exactly why I've been selected
and why I should consider it," I told him. "You can't
expect me just to jump up and down for joy because
someone's offering to take me away from al this."
Paul opened his mouth but before he could speak, I
added, "I happen to like the job I have, Paul. Very much."
"I'm glad," he said quietly, and before he could say more, Vivian came out of the bathroom.
I took petty pleasure in seeing that she'd splashed water
on her skirt and silk shirt. She'd run a damp hand through
her haircut, too, to settle it into place, and I could see the
edges of her makeup had run a little bit along her cheeks.
She didn't know I didn't want the man who wasn't even
hers, but the fact she was worried he might want me
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