In the time it’s taken her to finish half a glass, I’ve polished off two. I need to slow it down if I’m going to get through explaining everything that happened today before I drift into a coma of inebriation.
“It hit the spot,” I say, nodding my head. “We’re celebrating something.”
Her eyes scan my face. Arietta has a natural instinct when it comes to reading people. Since we started living together, I’ve learned that it’s useless to try and hide my emotions from her.
“I’m all for celebrating the fact that Dudley is staying with us.” She reaches down to scratch under his chin.
He’s been sitting on the floor next to her chair since we started dinner. So far, he hasn’t been rewarded with anything other than the frequent touch of Arietta’s hand as she pets him. French food scraps are not on the menu for him tonight.
“It’s only until his owner gets back to town,” I point out because I don’t want Arietta getting too attached to the dog.
She tilts her head. “Keats Morgan is out of town?”
“He’s in town.” I look at the bottle of red wine but decide not to refill my glass. “His sister owns Dudley. Keats has allergies, so he needs someone to watch the dog at night and on the weekends. Dudley goes to doggy daycare during the day.”
“Doggy daycare is a thing?” She smiles.
“It’s a thing, and tomorrow I’ll drop him off there.”
She lets out a breath. “Why are you taking care of him? I feel like I’m missing something.”
I’ve been hesitant to share the news about my new job because I’m not even sure how I ended up with it. I was lining up an interview while I was in Keats’s office. It was for the position of a sales rep for a company that specializes in selling flavored seltzer water.
I politely declined that after Keats fired Jamie and looked to me as her replacement.
“When I went to drop Dudley off this morning, Keats offered me a job,” I confess.
“I think taking a job dog sitting is admirable, Maren.” She perches her glass in the air as if she’s about to toast me. “Keats Morgan chose the right candidate for the position.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I say apprehensively.
“What do you mean?”
“He hired me to take care of Dudley, but there’s more.” I reach for the bottle of wine and pour no more than one mouthful in my glass.
Arietta watches my every move. “Tell me.”
I spread my arms out at my sides as if I’m putting myself on display. “You are looking at Keats Morgan’s newest assistant.”
Her entire face lights up. “He gave you a job?”
I nod.
As quickly as the smile appeared, a frown takes its place on her lips. “Why don’t you look happy about it?”
“I’m happy,” I reassure her. “There is one red flag that I kind of looked over before I agreed to take the job.”
She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “What kind of red flag are we talking about?”
“I’m his fifth assistant this year.”
“Fifth?” She questions. “He’s gone through four assistants in one year?”
Scratching my chin, I realize just how bad that sounds. “He fired the last one right in front of me.”
Reaching across the table, Arietta pours what’s left of the wine in the bottle into my glass. “Drink up, Maren. Your new boss sounds worse than mine.”Chapter 4MarenDropping Dudley off at doggy daycare was harder than I thought it would be.
It wasn’t because I got all teary-eyed at the prospect of not seeing him again until tonight. One of the caregivers at the center decided that I should be welcomed into her world with a hug, followed by a quick trip down her memory lane of pets.
I sat next to her with Dudley in my lap as she scrolled through hundreds of pictures of two Dalmatians that she had saved on her phone.
After twenty minutes, I finally told her that I had to meet with my new boss. She scurried away with Dudley tucked under her arm. Her promise that he’d enjoy himself wasn’t necessary.
I could tell he was happy to be there based on how hard he was wagging his little tail.
I take a breath as I ride the elevator up to the floor that houses Morgan Sports Management.
I’m not officially an employee yet.
A delivery person dropped off the contract this morning, just as Arietta was leaving for work. She asked if I was ready to sign it, but I told her that I needed to talk to Keats first.
I have questions that I want answers to before I agree to be his executive assistant.
Skimming my hand over the skirt of the simple black dress I’m wearing, I try to shake off the anxiety I’m feeling. It’s been sitting on my shoulders since my dad tried to call me an hour ago.