Catastrophe Queen

“Why can I use it then?”

“Do you want to carry coffee up two flights of stairs?”

“I can’t think of a worse idea, actually.” Knowing my luck, it’d be more like six by the time I was done spilling it.

Casey smiled. “Now, the bathroom.” She opened the door to a large, white bathroom with turquoise accents. There was a walk-in shower in the corner, plus a sink, mirror, and toilet. “The cleaners come every night at seven, but it’s your job to ensure they’ve done theirs correctly. All you have to do is check the towels are clean and that there is adequate toilet paper.”

“Sounds easy enough,” I replied. “What about the kitchen?”

“Again, the cleaning staff will take care of it.” She held the door open for me. “It’s nothing fancy, but this is your responsibility. You have to make sure the coffee beans are always stocked, that the milk is fresh, and that you always buy the right sweetener.”

“Sweetener?”

“Yep. Mr. Reid’s grandmother came and gave him a public lecture about his overuse of three sugars in every coffee, so he switched. But…” She took a few steps back and opened a cupboard. “If he’s having a bad day, slip a couple sugars in instead for your own sanity.”

“You make him sound like a monster.”

She laughed, shutting the cupboard. “God, no. He’s been a delight to work for, but I’d rather be at home with my baby girl.” She shrugged. “You’ll get along just fine. Now, he typically brings his lunch with him, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to go out and get some. This doesn’t cut into your break at all, but you do have to make sure all his calls go through Amanda at the main reception. She’ll take messages and give them to you on your way back in to return calls.”

“Okay.”

“You get forty-five minutes for lunch every day, plus one fifteen-minute break in the afternoon. I would advise going out for lunch, or you’ll get roped into doing something, but take your break in the kitchen.” She ushered me out of the room and back into the hall area. “Overwhelmed yet?”

“A little,” I admitted, putting my purse on the floor next to my desk.

Casey smiled sympathetically. “Don’t worry. All this is written down for you, but I’m only here until after you get back from lunch, then I have to get my daughter, so I want to get through it.”

“Okay. I’ve got this. It’s fine.”

It was not fine. How many sugars did my boss take again?

Wait, no. It wasn’t even sugar. It was sweetener. Jesus.

“Take a seat.” Casey wheeled the chair out for me.

I sat.

“The first thing you need to know is that the desk is set up to my organizational system. Please keep it that way just in case you don’t make it past the trial, but I’m fairly confident you will.” She then proceeded to show me where everything was in the desk, from paperclips to staplers to important files. “The cabinets behind you are home to current information on available listings. The cabinet on the right…” She walked over and opened each drawer. “Top drawer: houses for sale. Middle drawer: houses for let. Third drawer: land for sale. They are marked in case you forget.”

“Sale, let, land. Got it.”

“The second unit is for commercial properties. We don’t have a lot—maybe two right now. Don’t worry about this one so much.” She shot me a dazzling smile and hit a button on the side of the computer screen.

It blinked to life.

“Here’s your login. It’s only temporary right now, but if you get the job permanently, I’ll be here to make sure you’re settled and change it all up for you. Pop it in the box there.” She tapped one blue fingernail against the screen.

I typed, conscious of my chipping red nails. I really needed to paint them. In my lunch hour, damn it.

I logged in and froze. There were icons everywhere.

“Ugh. Excuse me.” Casey leaned forward. “This should have been sorted. I asked one of the new hires to organize all these files for you.”

A few clicks later and the screen was much more tolerable to look at, and a hell of a lot less confusing.

“Okay. Let’s start simple, and I’ll explain those to you. Phone.” She pointed at the wireless phone on a dock to my right. “Simple. If it rings, someone wants you or they want Mr. Reid.”

“Do I have to send a call through to him?”

“Sometimes. There is a list of people who go through to him if he’s here and not in a meeting or out with a client.” She slid it toward me. “It’s limited to his parents, his sister, and a few high-profile clients. But, you always put them on hold and call to see if he’s able to take the call.”