Catastrophe Queen

“Oh, good morning, Mrs. Carlton!” Despite the fact I hadn’t wanted to speak to her, Cameron had forgotten one small point when he’d laughed when the phone had rung: she wasn’t calling to speak to me. “What can I do for you today?”

“I’ve taken a look on that website you’ve got thanks to my grandson, and I’m extremely interested in that lodge in the mountains. Is it still available?”

“Great,” I replied. “Can you give me the name and I’ll bring up the information?”

“Barfield Lodge.”

“Two seconds, please.” I brought the information up on the computer and looked. I found it quickly, thanks to it being the only lodge available. It was beautiful, set in its own pocket of snowy wonderland. “Yes, it’s available.”

“Wonderful!”

I swear, she clapped.

“Is darling Cameron available? I’d love to discuss a viewing.”

I bit my lip. “I can arrange that for you, Mrs. Carlton.”

“Oh no, darling. He handles me personally.”

Thank Heavens for small mercies.

“Let me put you on hold for a moment, and I’ll see if he’s free.” I pressed the button and put down the phone before she could say anything else.

Getting up, I made my way to Cameron’s office just in time to see him pick up his cell and put it to his ear.

I folded my arms over my chest, smirking. “I just saw you pick that up. I know you’re not talking to anyone.”

He groaned, putting it down. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “She wants to look at the Barfield Lodge. I offered to arrange the viewing, but apparently, you deal with her ‘personally.’”

Sighing, Cameron met my eyes. “Patch her through.”

I grinned, turning around with a bounce in my step as I went back to my desk and picked up the phone, hitting the hold button again. “Mrs. Carlton? Mr. Reid is available. I’m putting you through now.”

I tapped the button to redirect her call to his line before I had to listen to her nasal tone again. There was only so many times you could hear a sound that felt like nails down a chalkboard before you wanted to rip out your own eyes, no?

Day two, and I was already starting to wonder if I was cut out for this job.

I wasn’t exactly a people person. Especially not at the grocery store, because the doors are not where you have a fucking conversation. Neither is the middle of the aisle.

I digress.

I put the phone down and sat back at my desk. My bottle of water was still ice-cold, and I sipped as I checked the email account. There were a few unread ones, so I worked my way through those, then moved to familiarize myself further with the properties on the books.

I worked quietly for an hour, answering the phone whenever it rang. It wasn’t until the sensation of being watched crawled over my skin that I finally stopped and looked up.

Into the perfect blue eyes of my boss. And he was grinning. A big, bright grin that made him ten times more handsome.

That sigh? It was my ovaries.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt you,” he said in a low voice.

“Oh, um. It’s okay.” My traitorous cheeks flushed lightly. “I was just—” I paused to wave the information on an eye-wateringly expensive house I was reading. “Catching up on some information.”

Cameron walked over and took the paper from me, leaning on my desk. “Starting at the most expensive end, I see.”

“Yeah,” I replied slowly. “I’m a little torn between imagining myself winning the lottery and buying this house or hating the people who can.” I tilted my head to the side. “I’m in a relatively good mood right now, so I think I’m on the lottery side right now.”

He laughed.

“Do you need anything?”

He smiled at me. “Yes—I have a phone call in around ten minutes. Could you order lunch from this deli?” He handed me a flyer I hadn’t realized he was holding. “They do the best sandwiches, and they’ll deliver them.”

“Sure.” I looked down at the flyer. “How do I pay them?”

“Tell them you’re calling from my office and they’ll add it to the tab. Ask them for my usual, and they’ll sort it out and deliver it.” Cameron stood, then stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Hey, Mallory?”

I held the phone in front of me. “Yes?”

“Do you have plans for lunch?”

“Avoiding my mother who I know is downtown with my aunt,” I replied. “Why?”

“Why don’t you order yourself something and we’ll eat lunch together?”

“You want to eat lunch with me?” I blinked at him.

“You seem to have the hang of this job,” he said with a shrug. “And, hell—you’ve already lasted longer than the last girl.”

“It’s my second day.”

“Exactly.” His lips twitched to one side. “Order yourself something, and when I’m done with my call, we’ll take lunch.”

He disappeared into his office and shut the door before I could argue with him.