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Chapter 5: Limited Edition

Author: Hanleigh Bradley
last update Last Updated: 2022-04-11 19:30:08
Noah's POV:

"What do you mean I have a new assistant?" I almost shout down the phone at the head of HR. He has got to be joking. There is no way he's serious.

My last assistant didn't even last a week?

That has to be some sort of record.

"What happened to Becky?" I ask when he doesn't answer.

"Er… She wanted something a little less…" His voice drifts off before he blurts out, "she said you were a slave driver."

"A slave driver?" I ask, chuckling slightly as I lean back in my chair.

"Well… What she actually said was that you were and I quote 'a f*cking slave driver with a stick up your arse."

Now I really am laughing. And here I was thinking I was going easy on her since it was her first week.

"Right, so tell me about her replacement."

"Eden Winters," he says in a voice that suggests her name is all I need to know. "She's just filling in some paperwork and then she'll be heading up to your floor."

"Great," I say irritably.

This is the last thing I need. I really don't have the time to let her settle in and I definitely don't have time to teach her the ropes.

"She's going to have to hit the ground running. How much experience does she have?"

He hesitates.

"You won't be disappointed, Noah," he says eventually but I'm not sure I believe him.

"You're not going to tell me anything else? Nothing useful?" I ask with a sigh.

"Nothing really to say. She's great. You'll love her."

He sounds more like he's trying to set me up on a blind date than run me through my new assistant's CV. I consider trying to argue with him but I'm not convinced I'd achieve anything. Probably just wind up annoying him, something I'd come to regret next time I have to ask him for a favour.

Hanging up the phone, I return my attention to my computer screen. Working through the emails that have accumulated over night, I wait impatiently for Miss Winters to make an appearance.

When she still hasn't arrived a full thirty minutes later, I make my way out of my office, past Miss Winter's vacant desk and head down the corridor towards the break room to make myself a coffee.

Grabbing a mug from a cupboard, I hurriedly tap my fingers on the counter as I wait for the coffee machine. I had to work late last night to make up for my assistant's incompetence so I guess I should probably be grateful she quit before I could fire her.

Silver linings or whatever.

It grates though that Human Resources didn't even bother to include me in the hiring process. I mean, it's me that will have to work with her day in and day out for the foreseeable future.

When I return to my office, Sally, my department's HR rep is waiting for me just outside. She's not alone. Standing beside her is a woman in her mid-twenties. She's pretty. Beautiful even, with jet black hair held high in a ponytail. Not that it matters how she looks. Being pretty will be of no use to her here.

"Eden, this is Noah Grisham, your new boss," Sally says, making the introduction.

Eden puts out her hand for me to shake, politely meeting my gaze with a surprising amount of confidence. I know for a fact that I'm glaring at her but it hasn't so much as made her blink.

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir," she says calmly.

Accepting her hand, I nod my head in agreement before turning to Sally.

"I can take it from here," I dismiss her before opening my office door and gesturing for Miss Winters to follow me.

She thanks Sally before following after me.

"Take a seat," I say, pointing to the seat in front of my desk as I sit down myself. "I don't have a lot of time. I have an appointment in twenty minutes and a full schedule for the rest of the day."

She nods her head but doesn't say anything as she pulls out a notebook and a pen, preparing to make notes. It causes me to pause. I don't remember the last time I had an assistant that actually used pen and paper to make notes.

"I usually arrive early in the mornings," I tell her. "You'll need to be here and ready to work when I arrive."

"What time sir?" she asks.

"Seven."

I wait for the flinch – they always flinch – but it doesn't come. She merely writes down what I've told her.

"I usually take lunch at noon each day. You'll need to take yours when I do."

"Yes sir."

"I only take thirty minutes."

The fact that I expect her to do the same goes unsaid and unlike my previous assistants she doesn't feel the need to query it.

"There will be frequent bouts of overtime."

Still nothing.

"You'll need to manage my schedule and attend meetings with me."

"Yes sir."

"I never leave before six and often it's much later."

She offers me a small unaffected smile as she jots it down.

"You'll need to arrange my breakfast and lunch each day and on occasion dinner. Becky should have left a list of appropriate eateries."

"Very well."

I run her through the rest of her responsibilities as quickly as I can before leaning back in my seat as I check my watch.

"Why do you want to work for Clancy's Comforts?"

Finally I see a reaction though I can't gage what it is. She doesn't answer immediately and I find myself intrigued by what her answer will be.

"I needed a job," she says with a shrug.

"That's it? You're not going to tell me that you love our furniture or you were looking forward to the staff discount on wallpaper?"

"I don't own my own house. What possible use could I have for wallpaper?" she answers me with a question of her own.

I bristle slightly. It's basic etiquette to at least pretend you want the job.

"Is that what you told your interviewer?" I ask sarcastically, leaning forward.

Her eyes grow wider and I wonder if she realises her mistake but before I know it, she's saying, "oh, no. I told them that I've wanted to work at Clancy's Comforts ever since I owned the limited edition doll's house."

"You have the doll's house?"

That surprises me. There had been less than thirty of those made in the history of the company.

Her smile faulters for a fraction of a second before she says in a conspiratorially quiet voice, "my dad found it in a charity shop. It only cost him a tenner."

"Ten pounds?" I ask, flabbergasted. "Your dad got the Clancy Doll's House for a tenner? I'm sure I don't need to tell you how much they are worth?"

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