“I, uh, well . . . working. There's so much I have to finish before tomorrow just to stay close to on schedule and, if I add tomorrow's workload to this one, it just means I'm not going to be sleeping at all tomorrow night and—”
“Hang on, hang on,” he said, holding up a finger to silence me. “Mind if I take a look at what you've done so far?”
“Um, well, it's not quite finished yet, and—”
“That's perfectly fine. I just want to see what kind of progress you've made.”
I realized I couldn't really say no. He was, after all, the CEO.
“All right, let me just make a cup of coffee, and then I’ll meet you in my office to have a look at it.”
“Hold off on that coffee for now. It's not gonna do you any favors when later tonight when you're lying in bed wired, unable to sleep, and knowing you have to be back here in a few hours.”
“But, Asher, I need to finish—”
He cut me short again. “Just let me take a look first. I'll be the judge of whether you need to keep going tonight, all right?”
“All right,” I conceded, turning around to lead him to my office.
He sat down at my desk and skimmed over my work while I stood behind him, feeling more and more nervous with each passing minute. After what felt like an eternity, he swung the chair around and stood.
“I don't think you need to do anything else here tonight, Lilah,” he said. “What you've already done is good—better than good, really.” His eyes focused on mine and his expression softened. “Look, I realize there's a lot of pressure on you right now, especially in these first few days since you're just learning the ropes, and I know I've tossed you right into the deep end without a life preserver.”
“I—” I began, but he held up a hand to silence me once more.
“You don't need to say anything, Lilah. You're doing an excellent job. I think the issue here is me. I've been a bit too demanding with the deadlines on this campaign, so let me give you an extra day to get it done. How does that sound?”
I hesitated before answering. Of course, with all the stress and pressure, I was tempted to just agree, but what if it was a test of some sort? What if he was testing me to see how much resolve and grit I had, or how badly I really did want the job?
“I appreciate that, but no thanks,” I said, stiffening my resolve. “I can handle this, and I can get it done within the specified time.”
He smiled sympathetically. “This is not a test, Lilah. I'm not trying to see how committed you are to Sinclair and your new position. I really was too ambitious with the deadline. I didn't take into account that you're still finding your footing here, learning the ropes, and getting a feel for our processes. Granted, I do expect an immense amount of hard work and dedication from you, that much is true.
“I don't, however, expect you to work yourself into a hospital bed or worse. I'm a strict man and I have high expectations, but I'm no slave driver. So, as your boss, I'm telling you, for your own health and well-being, that the deadline has been extended by a day. And that's the final word on that.”
I nodded, quietly relieved that I'd been given the extra time to complete my work.
“Thank you,” I responded. “I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. I know how much of a killer stress and working too much can be—it's what sent my grandfather to an early grave.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.”
His smile faded. “That’s kind of you. It's been many years since he passed, but I do still miss him.” His gaze lowered to the floor.
There was a moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence between us before Asher looked up at me. The somber look that had darkened his face earlier was gone, replaced now by a warm, inviting smile.
“Say, have you eaten dinner yet?”
“I have not,” I replied. “In fact, I've been so focused on this project that I haven't had a moment to even think about food. I’m actually realizing that I haven’t eaten since Jessica brought those cookies around just before lunch.”
“Well, that won't do. Not that those cookies weren’t amazing. They were. But, I'm a big believer in the power of nutrition, Lilah. We can't afford to neglect our bodies as we obsess over work—and yes, doing exactly that is something that I'm guilty of myself, so I know how you feel. Listen, how about we get dinner? I was just about to head out to grab a bite to eat myself. How do you feel about Greek food?”
I smiled. “I love it,” I exclaimed, feeling an immediate flush of embarrassment at my bubbly enthusiasm.
He chuckled. “Excellent. That makes two of us. I just have a few things to finish up in my office. I'll call my driver and arrange for him to pick us up in half an hour downstair
s. Sound good?”