And come to think of it, why wasn’t he a lawyer or a doctor or a professional athlete? He should be well off by now, married with the requisite three kids and the white picket fence. He’d always been destined for it. What kind of left turn had his life taken?
And why the hell was I thinking about Holden Whittaker again?
“I’m sorry,” I said to Helen, trying to sound contrite. “I’ll get the order in now and it’ll go through first thing tomorrow.”
“It was supposed to go through today,” Helen said, as if maybe I was hard of hearing. She repeated it again. “Today, Mina. It was a simple request. The fact that you couldn’t fulfill it will have to go on your record.”
Well, now I was mad. “But you also told me that there’s been a cut to the supply budget,” I said. “You told me to shop around, look for lower prices for everything we need to order. I was busy doing that. I didn’t want to put the order in if I could get lower prices somewhere else.”
“Mina, this is a business.” Now, as well as being hard of hearing, I was also stupid. “Things have to get done. Mr. Morgan expects his employees to handle their jobs without hand-holding. That’s what I expect of you. If you can’t keep up, then you can’t keep the job.”
I had to clench my teeth together—actually clench them. Otherwise I’d tell her to shove it. But ever since I came to New York after high school, I’d waited tables while I auditioned. I didn’t want to go back to waiting tables. I had rent to pay, and I needed this job. And whenever I left—because I sure as hell didn’t want to order office supplies for the rest of my life—I wanted a good reference. A reference that would come from Helen.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “It won’t happen again.”
“It can’t,” she said, and there was definite smugness in her voice. “At Morgan Financial Holdings, we have a three-strike policy. This is strike one on your record. If you slip up two more times, we’ll replace you. Now please get to work and put the order in so it will go through first thing tomorrow.” She checked her watch and walked away.
I watched her go into her office, then come out again with her gym bag and lock the door behind her. I got a strike on my record, and Helen got to leave at ten after three. I watched her skinny ass twitch as she took off down the hall, confident as you please. Helen the hellhound, I thought.
Then, because I was poor and desperate, I got back to work and ordered the stupid office supplies.
The elevator in my building was working, so I didn’t have to take the stairs to my apartment when I got home. I stood in the elevator and thought about Holden Whittaker again, wondering if there was still a whiff of his scent in here. I glanced up at the ceiling and pictured his perfect ass coming down the ladder in its hot navy blue uniform, then I closed my eyes and shook my head. I wondered how long Eric and Grim had left him in here while they had dinner. I hoped it was long.
There was a girl sitting in my hallway when I got out of the elevator. She was about fourteen, sitting with her back against my neighbor’s door and her long legs stretched out in front of her. She was wearing jeans and a red T-shirt, her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she had earbuds in her ears.
I stepped over her Skechers in my heels, which were pinching my toes. I guessed she was waiting for someone to come home, though I’d never seen her before. I glanced at her as I stepped over her, and she looked up at me. She pulled her earbuds from her ears.
“I’m not a burglar or anything,” she said frankly as I walked to my door. “I belong here, I swear.”
“Okay,” I said. “I didn’t think you were a burglar.”
“I’m visiting my sister and her husband,” the girl said. “They live here.” She pointed at the door behind her. “They aren’t home from work yet so they can’t let me in.”
“Okay,” I said again. I put my key in my door, then looked at her again. She was lanky and skinny and looked nothing like me, but there was something