Boss of Me

Is that why he was hitting on me? Was he trying his luck because he knew he was leaving? Not that it makes it any better…

“Patton decided we needed someone out there this morning. He’s the logical choice.”

My eyes narrow, and I look at the wall that separates this room from the devil’s office. Patton decided this morning to send Jerry to LA?

“How long will he be there?”

Taron looks at me curiously. “You sure seem very interested. Are you and Jerry—”

“No!” I say it too loud and too fast. “Not at all. I’m just surprised is all. I mean, the two of you hired me, so I thought it was because you’d be around for a while. I have no interest in Jerry. None whatsoever.”

Stop talking, Rocky.

Clearing my throat, I press my lips together and smile, blinking innocently.

He shakes his head and laughs, turning back to the sheets on the table. “Okay, here’s what we’ve got…”

We work through lunch preparing for the meeting this afternoon. I hop online and order platters of stuffed vine leaves or dolmas, lamb Kibbeh or meatballs, pita and hummus, dates, and coffee. It’s all coming from the Lebanese restaurant, and I’m hoping for the best, being in Nashville.

Taron said our goal is to make them feel welcome, like we’re accommodating and elegant so they’ll want to commit. I don’t remind him my major was international studies.

Looking down, I decide my outfit is fine. Patton insulted my cardigan again, which is ridiculous. I just bought this silly thing. It’s very stylish and modest. For a moment, I wonder if that’s why he hates it.

We’re all set when I look up and see Marley strolling in the office, and my breath catches. Oh, shit. We can’t afford a repeat of Madagascar. I have no idea what I can make up at this point to cover him.

Our eyes meet through the glass walls of the conference room, and he gives me a little wave. I’m struck by how resigned his expression seems. I don’t know this man, but he seems so haunted.

Less than a minute passes, and he returns, this time with Taron behind him. The door opens, and Patton enters as well. I swallow my sudden attack of nerves and manage a smile.

Taron is the first to speak. “Raquel, you’ve met Martin Randall.”

“Hello.” I wouldn’t say we’ve met, but I don’t bother getting into that. I will not ramble.

Patton’s take-charge voice is next. “Marley’s handling our social media accounts and marketing.”

“Okay.” My voice is quiet, waiting.

“I thought it would be a good idea if you all know how to do this in case I’m not around for some reason.” Marley pulls a chair out from the conference table and wakes the giant monitor with the iPad Pro.

He’s actually very good at what he does. Two minutes into his talk, I grab a sheet of paper off the back table and hastily start making notes. He walks us through every account, shows us how to update our info, upload photos, set up ads, create audiences, target audiences, then measure the results and make changes. He shows us how to add our contact information to posts and how to check and respond to messages.

“That’s pretty much it. If you got that, the rest is a piece of cake.” He turns to face us, and his eyes land on me and linger.

Patton inhales and starts for the door. “I hope you two got all that.”

I look at Taron, who gives me a tight smile. “People think his job’s so easy.”

“I didn’t.”

“Send us a copy of that.” He motions to my sheet of chicken scratch and I nod. “I’ll type it up.”

“I have a doc I’ll send you all.” Marley leans back in his chair as Taron follows Patton out the door.

“Thanks for the crash course.” I smile, not sure what to say to this guy. He’s a total mystery.

“You’re Renée’s sister?”

“Um… yeah.” My insides tighten, and I study his face, remembering how Renée asked about him.