Page 36 of Say You Will

Spencer gives a shallow bow. “If you’ll follow me to the kitchen.”

Awkwardly, I trail behind. “Are you my boss?”

He stops abruptly, swiveling in my direction. “Certainly not, Ms. Lennox. I’m merely acclimating you to your new home and position.”

I frown in confusion. I suppose he means because I agreed with Henry that staying here will make things more convenient for him until I find my own apartment. Under any other circumstance, the question I’m about to ask would sound absurd, but this is Henry we’re talking about. He’d do it just to see people’s faces when Spencer opened the door. “Are you the butler?”

Spencer’s already perfect posture straightens further. “I’m Henry’s personal assistant.”

“I apologize. It’s really early. My brain isn’t quite online yet.”

“I suppose it is early for some people.” He spreads his arm. “Right this way, Ms. Lennox.”

When we enter the kitchen, a tall black man with broad shoulders and a ready smile lifts his coffee cup in greeting. “Hey, Franki. I’m Dante, Henry’s head of security.”

I smile and lift my hand in an uncomfortable wave. So many new people, so early in the morning. I expected to see Henry, not strange men.

Spencer slides a phone and a 3-ring binder across the white quartz countertop toward me. “I’m Henry’s personal assistant, but you may consider me yours, as well, until we find you candidates to interview yourself.”

“I don’t need a PA,” I say, dumbfounded.

“When you no longer have to handle scheduling your appointments, shopping, or planning your outfits for the day, you’ll wonder how you ever lived without one.”

“I’d prefer to do those things myself.”

Spencer smiles like I just made a joke, then indicates the phone. “Your old phone isn’t secure. Corporate espionage is a concern, as is Henry’s safety. Don’t use your personal phone for any communication related to business or to take photos within or near any of his properties. This one has everything you need. As long as you don’t disable the security features on it, there are no restrictions on how you use it.”

That makes sense. It also means that I’m no longer beholden to my mother for her cell phone plan. This could not be more perfect. If I’d made a list of everything I needed, it would be exactly what Henry has provided for me. A place to stay where Henry sees my presence here as convenient, not a hindrance. A job I’m qualified for with benefits. Even the fact that the security here is so hardcore makes me feel loads more comfortable.

I’m usually cranky in the morning, but a shot of unadulterated triumph shoots through my veins. I’ll keep the phone Mom gave me so she can reach me, but I don’tneedit, anymore. I won’t give her my new number at all.

Spencer taps a pink binder. “I’ve color-coded everything for you here if you’re a more tactile learner. This information is also accessible on your phone, work iPad, or new laptop. You’ll find those on the desk I’ve set up for you next to Henry’s in the home office. He felt that would be most convenient. I hope you like rose gold. Henry is coded navy.

“In the front of the binder,” he continues, “you’ll find a folder and envelope. These include all of your security access codes and keycard. Dante will perform the retinal scans this afternoon.”

I nod. I take my anti-inflammatory in the morning, and I have to eat before I do. Otherwise, my stomach will feel like it’s gnawing on itself. Besides, something smellsdeliciousin this kitchen. “Not to be a pain, but do you mind if I grab some breakfast while we do this?”

Spencer opens the oven and, using black oven mitts, removes something I can’t see from the rack. After plating a piping hot oversized blueberry muffin with crumble topping and three sliced strawberries cut into mini-fans displayed in a half-circle around it, he presents me with the white and gold china and a linen monogrammed napkin. “Henry made these this morning and put them on the warmer for you in case you indicated you were hungry. If you prefer something else, please inform me. Would you like a smoothie as well? Or something more hearty?”

Good heavens. “This is wonderful. Thank you.” I nod at the binders. “You can explain while I eat. I don’t mind.”

As I dig in to the tart and sweet, buttery deliciousness of my breakfast, Dante lifts a strawberry from the cutting board and leans toward Spencer. Spencer backs away from him and shoots a glance my way. Smooth as you please, Dante switches direction and takes a bite of the strawberry, himself. I’m almost certain his intention was originally to feed Spencer.

Cheeks red, but with a small smile on his face, Spencer straightens his bow tie and opens the rose-gold binder, indicating two folders attached. “The security folder is coded red. You’ll find a coordinating tab in the binder right . . . here.” He indicates a section approximately an inch thick of single-spaced pages printed front and back. “These are the protocols you’re expected to conform to at all times. In anything but an emergency, you’ll need to request twenty-four-hour pre-authorization from Dante for any deviations from the list.”

I blink at the pages and Spencer smiles. “A little light reading. I know. I had the same look on my face when I had to memorize these, but most of it ends up being common sense. Well . . . some of it. It certainly requires an adjustment. The most important thing is to memorize the codes and emergency procedures. Dante will run drills with you later.”

I glance at Dante, then skim the first page. Most of the rules don’t look unreasonable. No letting unauthorized people into the penthouse. If I meet someone I want to invite over, they have to pass an advance security check. That might bother some people, but to me, it means where I’m staying is a private oasis. No sharing private details of our home or posting photos of it online. Wait for the driver’s go-ahead before stepping out of a car.

The approved itinerary with twenty-four-hour notice isn’t happening. My personal time is my business. What if I get a spur of the moment craving for tacos? I’m not waiting,taco-less,until someone gets around to putting “visit food truck” on my schedule. I’m not giving anyone my personal schedule at all. It feels too much like my mother needing to control my every move. “What’s the rest of the binder for?”

Spencer indicates a second folder at the front. “A credit card for your use and access to a checking account.”

Company expenses. It makes sense, particularly if, as Henry said, travel will be part of my job.

Spencer gives me a tight smile. “It behooves me to point out that if you spend more than a million dollars at one time, Henry will be sent an alert for him to confirm the purchase. It’s not that he’s attempting to restrict you in any way. It’s simply a place where security protocols and finance meet.”

Spencer’s dry humor is hilarious.It behooves me….A million dollars.I laugh, and his brows draw together before he presses on, flipping to different sections. “As I said, these are color-coded. This navy tab is everything you could need on a daily basis regarding Henry, himself. I’ve included a list of approved gifts, should you be inclined to get him something. His birthday is in May.”

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