Even though give in most of the time, I can’t afford to do so today.
Doing so would mean a five-week extension, on top of the original extension I gave them in October.
My blood is beginning to boil, and I’m tempted to write back “Hell no” to everyone, but I hold back.
That’s not being a good boss…
I know that it’s best to get one of my professional mentors to talk me off the ledge, but there’s only one person I know who’s awake at this hour. One person who always answers when I call.
Picking up my phone, I scroll down to “Satan in the Flesh” and hit call without a second thought.
“Yes, Savannah?” His deep voice comes over the line within seconds, and I hesitate. I’m not used to him calling me by my first name, not used to how good it sounds coming from his mouth.
I honestly hate how easy it is for him to turn me on, that he’s still capable of doing it, even when I have a boyfriend.
“Do you plan on saying something?” There’s a smile in his voice. “Or, are you just up thinking about me at four in the morning?”
“Ugh, no.” I roll my eyes. “I called because I need to talk to you about something important.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m having an issue with the things that need to be done for the prep-ceremony,” I say. Well, that and a lot of other things. Everyone keeps asking me for more time on their assignments.”
“Okay … And?”
“I don’t understand why it always comes down to that.” I admit. “’I give everyone the same deadlines that you once gave to me.”
He lets out a low laugh that sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
“Thank you for making me waste my time on a phone call with you,” I say. “I’ll see you at the office, and—”
“I’m not laughing at you.” He interrupts. “I’m laughing at the idea that you honestly expect your coworkers to have the same work ethic as you do. If you gave them the same amount of time I gave you, then you can only expect half of the work. Give them an extension, or hire more people if you want it done to your standard.”
I sit still for several seconds, stunned by his compliment.
“Is there anything else, Miss Grey?”
“Yes.” I clear my throat and pull out my planner. “Mr. Warner sent me an email requesting that we push back our Rockefeller Plaza meeting by an hour. I told him that was fine, but I’ll still need to leave at eight.”
“For the date with your boyfriend, correct?”
“Yes.” I pause. “He’s meeting me for dinner right after his flight gets in.”
“Hmmm. Did you settle on a dress yet?”
“I’m still debating between a few options.”
“Which ones?”
I’m tempted to say, “None of your business,” but he has good fashion sense. That, and Georgia previously suggested wearing a ‘Distance makes us closer’ T-shirt and jeans.
“There’s three.” I stand to my feet and walk into my bedroom. Opening my closet, I hit the lights and head over to the options.
“There’s the pink and white A-line one that I wore a few weeks ago at the Donovan meeting, the black one I wore last month at the charity ball, and a brand-new navy blue one that I haven’t worn yet.”
“You look good in dark blue, so you should wear that one,” he says. “Where’d you buy it from?”
“Versace … My boyfriend bought it for me.”
“Your boyfriend brags about buying his suits off the clearance rack,” he says. “I doubt that he would ever set foot in that store.”
I don’t bother denying that. I hold back a laugh and take it off the hanger. “Thank you for your help.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Silence.
In moments like this, I almost feel like we’re friends—that maybe, just maybe, we can have a conversation that doesn’t end with me hanging up in his face.
“I was about to get in the shower when you called, Miss Grey,” he says. “So, unless you plan to come over and join me—sans the boyfriend, I’d like to get off the phone now.”
Welp, so much for that.
I end the call and begin granting extensions for my colleagues.
THREE
Garrett
This Christmas
Manhattan, New York
“Mr. West! Mr. West! How serious are the rumors about your company purchasing Netflix? Does this mean you’re selling your shares of YouTube?”
I ignore questions from the press as I walk out of the Empire State Building. I’ve just given them three hours of my time and allowed them to ask whatever questions they wanted, but of course, it’s never enough.
I make a beeline through their huddle and slip into my younger brother Seth’s town car.
The moment I shut the door, his driver speeds toward West Media headquarters.
“You know, this might be the first time that you looked like a CEO who gives a damn at a press conference.” Seth smiles. “I almost believed that you had a heart while you were up there. Good job.”