quips with her usual smart-assery, then smiles at me.
“I’m in a firing mood today,” I warn.
“Aw, learn to take a joke, bossman. They’re finding more benefits with laughter every day, you know.” She flashes me an awkward smile.
“I don’t joke.”
Or laugh, for that matter, I think to myself.
“You ain’t lyin’, tiger.”
No, but I do grin at her bullshit. Sometimes I halfway get how Nick was oblivious to her for well over a month when she started.
She’s fresh-faced, intelligent, and in her early twenties with a nice figure, but Reese could be one of the guys. On the plus side, any man on our staff looking for an easy date knows not to fuck with her, or Nick and I will be there to back her up.
“Have you met Paige yet? I think we’ll like her.” Her cheerful eyes smile at me in the mirror and only deflate after I go a minute without answering. “What? Was it something I said?”
I roll my eyes. How does this insufferable ass-sistant have everyone wrapped around her finger already?
“Count me out of your fawning. She’s a drunken fool, and as soon as Beatrice lets me, I’m firing her.”
“Eww. I’m telling your grandma you called her Beatrice.”
I don’t say anything, just snort.
“Seriously though, what happened? She rubbed you that wrong? She thought it went well today.”
I could go into it, but the less Reese knows, the better.
“I simply don’t think she’s an appropriate fit for the company. She has ample opportunity to prove me wrong,” I say.
“Why?”
I sigh. “She got drunk at the Art Institute and made a scene.”
Reese laughs and flashes a thumbs up. “Good for her! Somebody had to riot. That wine they sell at the café is some high-dollar crap. Ain’t worth it if you can’t get buzzed off fifty bucks.”
Okay. I take it back. Reese can’t be one of the guys unless we’re talking frat boys...or Nick, I guess.
“Who gave you a Mountain Dew IV drip today?” I ask.
“Oh, I get to babysit my niece tonight, so I’ve been slamming it back all evening. How’d you know, boss?”
I shake my head. “I can just tell.”
She nods. “Well, be nice to Paige. Pretty please? She’s a cool lady, and if she goes to art galleries on her time off, that seems like a good fit to me.”
“No, Reese. A woman stumbling through a museum with some dickwad hanging on her and loudly declaring her affiliation with my company isn’t a good fit. Granted, the rotten date wasn’t her fault, but as for the rest...” I trail off, wondering why I bother.
She won’t get it.
So far, no one does, and I hate it.
Makes a man wonder if there’s something to his permanent stick-up-the-ass reputation after all, but now isn’t the time for reflection.
Reese’s face in the rearview mirror narrows, sucking her cheeks in.
“Bad fit. Right. Whatever.” She takes one hand off the wheel and stabs a finger back at me. “This is out of line, but here goes. Have you ever thought of being less of a judgmental prick? You forget I’ve seen you throw the shots back and nobody gets drunker than your brother.”
“Just drive,” I bite off.
It’d be easier to be less judgmental if I could get Paige’s weaponized grin out of my head. She enjoyed implying I serve purely at Grandma’s pleasure.
I should have told her it was only because her own grandmother knows her too well to hire her.
Shit. Why didn’t I think of it in time?
Oh well.
She’s about to regret the potshots she took in so many ways. If I can’t fire her, then I can make my new enemy’s life very, very interesting.
I pull out my phone to tap out an email.
To: Paige Holly
From: Ward Brandt
Subject: Marching Orders
Miss Holly,
I hope this email finds you sober so you’re up to the task at hand.
As you know, the big pitch with Ross Winthrope is coming up, and it’s critical. I’ll be sending you all the information for the bid presentation in another email. I’ll need you to organize it and start putting together a slideshow that will hold his attention.
When you’re done with that, you can catalog the other Winthrope properties for comparison. Be sure to leave no detail out. I’ll send you a catalog created for another client you can use as an example.
Also, please grab our coffee when you come in tomorrow. Grandmother and I drink black coffee or double shots of espresso, and Nick likes his mochas.
Thanks,
Ward Brandt
Senior Partner, Brandt Ideas Inc.
Reese pulls up to the