Wait for Me

“You want my advice on Patton Fletcher?” She huffs a laugh like it will take all day. “Don’t mention his dad. It pisses him off.”

My brow furrows. “Got it. Anything else?” I’m on the elevator rising too fast. Or she’s talking too slowly.

“Never wear all black. He hates that.”

“Shit.” I glance down at my black slacks and matching black blazer. “I’ll have to buy a scarf at lunch.”

“Nope, he hates scarves even more.”

“What’s his problem?” My lips tighten, and my urge to fight starts to rise.

It’s how I got my nickname, Rocky. My dad started it because even as a little girl, I never backed down from a bully.

“Remember when we were kids, and you liked to say ‘You’re not the boss of me’?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever say that to Patton Fletcher.” I’m about to speak, when she adds conspiratorially. “But never stop saying it in your head. I think he secretly likes it.”

“He sounds evil.”

“Well…” Her voice goes higher. “Patton Fletcher is a devil. He’s not the devil, but he’s definitely one of them.”

“I’m not afraid of the devil.” I have no intention of letting some arrogant young CEO scare me away from my dreams—if that’s what he did to Renée.

The elevator stops with a ding, and I wonder if that’s the reason I said yes to this particular job offer, to prove the Morgan girls have grit, to prove we’re tougher than we look.

“Whatever you do, don’t fall for him.” Her tone turns serious, and it almost makes me laugh.

“I have no intention of falling for him.”

“I checked your star sign this morning. It’s a good day for you to start something new.”

I’m in the door, and not a moment too soon. When she starts on the holistic remedies and astral predictions, I’m done. “Thanks, sis. Gotta run. Love you!”

“Love you, too. Protect your chin.”

“I will.” It’s our usual sign-off, a boxing reference.

I end the call as a slim young man in a pale blue, button-down and salmon-pink dockers behind the reception desk lowers his phone and gives me a bright smile.

“Welcome to Fletcher International, can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Rock—ah, Raquel Morgan. I’m supposed to check in with Sandra—”

“Oh! You’re the new hire. One moment, please.” I wait while he punches a few buttons and speaks quickly into the receiver.

I only have a moment to glance around the immaculate, dark-wood, leather, and glass waiting area before he hops out of his chair, extending an arm toward the door leading to the back offices. “Right this way. Sandra’s waiting for you.”

“Thank you…”

“Dean.” He smiles, turning back to answer the buzzing phone as Sandra appears in the hall.

I can’t help noticing her lavender silk blouse and beige pencil skirt. I feel like the grim reaper compared to the two of them…

Which is ridiculous! I look very professional in my suit, and I’m wearing a cream silk blouse… I’ll ditch my jacket once I’m in my office. Problem solved.

“Welcome aboard! It’s so nice to have another girl at this sausage fest.” Her hazel eyes shine behind heavy, tortoise-shell framed glasses, and I like her at once.