Page 7 of Faking It With My New Boss

I sat down heavily in my chair, turning to face the desk and taking a big sip of the hot coffee. It burned in my throat but tasted wonderfully dark and rich. I sat it down and waited for the door to open.

When it finally did, the woman from the lobby poked her head inside. She had a mixture of shock, horror, guilt and anger on her face. It was kind of impressive for her to have such an expressive face I could read all of that, but it still was really funny.

But she was gorgeous. I had to admit that. Even if I absolutely hated her personality, she wouldn’t be bad to look at every day. I waved for her to come in, pretending to do some paperwork on my desk. In truth, I had nothing important there, but I shuffled around some of the paper I had, including a printed-out list of fantasy football teams some old college buddies and I did every season, and began furiously scribbling on them like I was signing something important.

Apprehensively she made her way toward me and I looked up briefly to indicate a chair she could sit on with my pen and then went back to pretending to read super serious, important contracts and then signing them at the bottom before putting them in my “out” box.

I wanted to keep her waiting, just to increase the discomfort. She was clearly not happy to see me, and while I was enjoying the moment of lording my position over her and her obvious need for a job, I wasn’t terribly pleased to see her either. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it would be a good idea to have around. If she disliked me as much as she seemed to already without having even met me, the more she might intentionally screw things up to make me look bad.

Finally, I sat the pen down and looked at her from across the table, keeping my expression neutral. I’d just have to see where all this went.

Chapter Five

Courtney

This was not happening.

What in the cosmic fresh hell was this?

I’d been sitting there in the waiting room going over what I was going to say to convince the interviewer I was the right person for the interior design position &emdash; and I ended up in an office with him. First the coffee shop, then the lobby, and now the office. It was a trifecta of pissing me off.

It definitely didn’t help that he no longer looked like he should be hauling construction supplies or replacing lightbulbs somewhere. At some point between the elevator incident and now he’d put on a suit and cleaned himself up. He looked polished, put together, and aggravatingly good. As if I wasn’t annoyed enough by him, this man had to be gorgeous.

He was sitting behind the desk, leaned back in a big winged chair, looking smug. As soon as he folded his hands over his chest and looked me up and down, I had the compulsion to turn and walk away. There was really no point in this interview and I had no interest in sitting there and letting him taunt me just for his amusement.

“Hello,” he said before I could turn around and leave the office. “I feel like we’ve met before.”

This was probably the moment when I should have apologized and come up with some sort of excuse for the incident with the elevator. Maybe I could convince him that I didn’t know how to use elevator buttons. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He was sitting there with that arrogant smirk on his gorgeous face, and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of groveling to some assistant tasked with doing the hiring for the company.

“Not formally,” I said as if we had only just briefly passed each other in the lobby.

“Then I should introduce myself. Bryan Callahan. And you are?”

Fucked. That was what I was. If this was Bryan Callahan, that meant I closed the elevator doors on the owner of the company. That probably wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Or maybe he was, but I was still going to go with my name.

“Courtney Reynolds.”

Why was the owner of the company interviewing for an interior designer? Surely he had better things to do.

“Well, Courtney, I’m sure you are already familiar with the expectations of the position. It’s fairly straightforward. I can’t stress enough that you shouldn’t expect to always comply with normal business hours. You will likely work late most days and will be expected to be available weekends and additional hours as needed to manage various tasks. Calls will be redirected to your cell phone so you will always be able to answer no matter where you are.”

“Redirected to my cell phone?” I asked.

I was starting to get confused. If he needed to talk to me about the project, why wouldn’t he just have his assistant call my phone directly?

“Of course, we’ll provide a business phone for that purpose. All calls should be answered promptly and you will need to be able to use your best judgment to determine what calls should be sent to me and which you can handle. The phone will obviously be equipped with a calendar feature so scheduling meetings and recording notes about calls shouldn’t be a problem even if you are away from the office,” he said.

This wasn’t piecing together. I had done a lot of interior design jobs in my life, and never had my client expected me to manage his incoming phone calls. That thought going through my head was what made me realize he didn't sound like he was talking about an interior design project at all. It sounded much more like he was talking about a secretary.

“This position…” I started, but Mr. Callahan didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. Maybe there would be a question and answer period later and I’d be able to figure out what the hell was going on.

“I’m sure the former secretary explained the position to you and got you up-to-date on the policies and expectations of the company. Of course, there will be some changes considering the transition. For the most part, however, expectations are straightforward and fairly self-explanatory. In order for you to fulfill your responsibilities effectively, you will need to be familiar with my daily schedule and all meetings, events, and other obligations upcoming several weeks in advance,” he said.

“Your daily schedule? Your former secretary?”

“Well, not my former secretary. My father’s. But, yes, my daily schedule is often in flux depending on meetings and other obligations. However, there are some set activities you should be aware of.” He gave me the smug look again. “Perhaps you should think of it as being ahead of the game considering you clearly already know I start my day at the gym and then stop for coffee.”

Heat crawled up the back of my neck and I hoped it wasn't visible on my cheeks. I was embarrassed, but also confused. None of this was making sense. As he continued to talk, outlining things like making appointments and talking to vendors, it occurred to me. He wasn't interviewing me for an interior design position. He thought I was there to be his secretary.

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