Page 10 of A Bossy Roommate

“When you’re done with the training, there are some appointments I need you to enter into my calendar,” he orders, placing a small black book in front of me. “The company has a new calendar and instant messenger system. Make yourself familiar with it. My appointments need to be synced with the calendar and the correct information, then color-coded. After you do that, you’ll need to send a confirmation email for the meeting itineraries I’ve saved on my private drive. This musthappen for each one. Whatever is on the calendar is what I will go by. If there are conflicts or change requests, you handle them yourself. If there are any urgent matters that require my attention, handle them to the best of your ability and only notify me if you cannot resolve them on your own. Never interrupt me unless it’s absolutely necessary. Understood?”

His whole attitude rubs me the wrong way. Judging by his demeanor, you’d think he never got his cock sucked, let alone got laid. I don’t know if he’s being a jerk because we slept together or if that’s just the way he works, but I’m taken aback. I’ve barely been here half the day, and he’s already barking orders at me.

“I understand.” I give him a curt nod. “I do have a question about some logistics. I know I’m only here six months and won’t be taking any time off, but if something comes up?—”

He cuts me off as he did earlier. “Not my problem. You’ll need to find someone to cover your shift and leave me out of it.”

“Noted,” I say.

“Good. I’ll be gone for the next hour. When I get back, we’ll sit down in my office and go over day-to-day expectations. After that, you can have lunch.”

Without another word, he walks out of the office.

A few seconds later, Gretchen pokes her head in. “How’d it go?” she asks.

“What a…!” I don’t say it out loud, but she knows the word I have in mind: “dick.”

Smothering her laugh, Gretchen steps into the lobby and approaches my desk. “He can be a handful,” she whispers. “He knows what he wants and how he wants things done. You’ll get used to it.”

I want to explain that my evaluation includes more than our brief interactions this morning, but I don’t. I agree with Carter that we need to keep what happened secret, and I’m trying very hard not to let it color my judgment of him.

“Did he give you an assignment already?” Gretchen wants to know.

“Yes. He wants me to update his calendar.” I pick up the old-fashioned black book and open it to today. It’s a peculiar quirk that a man like him would use an antique book to jot down his (confidential) appointments. “He also said I had to send confirmations to everyone.”

“Okay, cool, no problem. I’ll help.”

Thank God for Gretchen. She walks me through the process, which is fairly straightforward. Once I get the hang of it, it’s easy. She has to go back to her office, which leaves me to work in silence. It’s too quiet. I think about listening to some music by Green Day, but I don’t know if that would be appropriate, and I decide to hold off until I have a chance to ask Gretchen. It’s Gretchen I’ll ask, not Bosszilla. Bosszilla would definitely say no.

Bosszilla returns soon after.An older, sturdy gentleman accompanies him, and they’re deep in conversation. I look up from my work to greet them, but neither gives me the time of day. They walk past as if I don’t exist, disappearing into Carter’s office. I know he said he wanted to meet with me, but I figure that will have to wait until he’s done.

I’ve started to receive messages regarding his upcoming appointments as well as requests to reschedule time with him, which gives me something to work on while I wait. Around twenty minutes later, the door opens and Carter appears, showing the older man out.

“You’ll see, Bancroft,” the man says with that condescending tone older people tend to use when speaking to someone younger than them. “It’ll be for the best. I’ve been in this business a long time. I know what is best for the company.”

“I’ve also been in this business a long time, Huxley,” Carter says with an edge to his voice I hadn’t yet heard in that capacity and instantly recognize as annoyance. “Don’t mistake my age for lack of experience.”

Huxley waves him off and looks at me. “Oh, you must be Bancroft’s new assistant,” he says, all smiles—ignoring the hard look Carter gives him—and approaches my desk. “How do you do, young lady? My name is Saul Huxley, and I’m the senior partner in charge of this branch.”

Oh, I recognize his name. He’s Gretchen’s boss. I stand to reach across and shake his hand. “Eden Ryan. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Huxley,” I say with a smile.

“Now what is a bright, pretty young thing like you doing working for Bancroft?”

Oh.Eww.I get the feeling that he meant what he said as a compliment, but given that it’s not 1950 and this is a workplace, I definitely don’t take it that way. Also, if looks could kill, Carter’s gaze would catapult him six feet under.

“I’m excited to have the chance to work at Legacy Builders,” I say with a professional tone, but quickly turn my attention to Carter and hand him back his little black book. “I’ve entered all your upcoming meetings and sent confirmations.”

“Quick and smart as a whip!” Saul Huxley praises, his gaze following the book as Carter tucks it away. “Don’t let this assistant get away, Bancroft.”

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” Carter asks him.

Not six feet under.Sixtyfeet under.

“Too right you are! Have a good first day, Eden.” Mr. Huxley shakes my hand again before he pulls away. “Bancroft, I’ll talk to you later.”

I watch him leave, and once he is out of earshot, I face Carter. “He seems like a character.”

Carter ignores my comment. “Grab a notepad and come into my office.”

---