Page 21 of Judge Me Not

The line goes silent.

I wait him out. Charles is the best of the best, but he's a typical attorney, always overanalyzing everything, which is why I hired him. He keeps me out of trouble.

"You want a personal assistant to have a twenty-year severance package?"

"Yes. And I want it clearly stipulated she is on call at all times. There are no off-hours. If I message her, she is to report to duty."

"Are you firing Janelle?"

I snort. "God, no. I'd rather slit my wrists."

"What's the real situation behind this?"

"I just told you. Get it done, Charles. And make it simple. No games. No extended language or get-out clause for me. Keep it black-and-white and nothing in between." I hang up the phone, and a text message pops up.

Janelle:The information was sent. Do you need anything else?

Me:No. Thank you. Have a good night.

Janelle:Anytime.

Janelle's been with me for over fifteen years. She, too, is at my beck and call, but there isn't anything sexual between us. I never have to ask her to do anything twice or explain myself. I have a hunch I pay her more than any other assistant in New York. The saying everyone is replaceable usually is true but not for Janelle. I enjoy every transfer I make to her bank account because she's worth every penny.

I shouldn't call Jasmine. It's late. She said she needed to leave. I don't know her reason, but I can't help myself. I hit Jasmine's name on my phone.

She answers after five rings in a hushed tone. "Hello."

"Check your email."

"You could have texted me. It's late."

"But I didn't."

Her soft breathing filters through the line, and I close my eyes, wishing she were in front of me.

"Are you home?" I question.

"Yes."

I almost ask her where she lives, but I remind myself I'll have all her information tomorrow when she's added to my payroll.

"I need to renegotiate one point."

She inhales sharply. "What?"

I can feel her stress over the phone. "While cash is king, most things require proof of funds. For instance, if you want to buy a house, or car, or anything of value. And if you're on my benefits, you'll need to be on my payroll as an employee. Your wage will be directly deposited into your bank account."

"But...umm..." She holds her breath, as if in distress.

"I'll gross up your wage. After taxes are taken out, you'll still have the five thousand per day deposited into your account. I'll withhold more than necessary. You'll probably get a refund. Consider it a bonus."

Her voice comes out choked up. "Okay. Thank you."

Oh, sexy woman, why do you need this money?

"You didn't tell me your last name. I need it for the contract."

"Barello. Two L's."

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