should have set up some kind of special account for Cody. Throw a million in the bank and control it for him to survive.
“Cole?” Cody asked.
“I’m here,” I said.
“You’re caving quick today.”
“You caught me in a good mood,” I said.
“Ah, nice. Who’s the lucky lady?”
Maya came back down the hallway and looked into my office.
Our eyes met.
“How much do you need?” I asked.
“Oh, come on, you know I don’t like to discuss my personal finances,” Cody said.
“Text me your landlord’s info,” I said. “I guess I should save it this time around.”
“Probably,” Cody said. “You’re not just paying the rent, right?”
“It’s been great talking to you, Mr. Assfuck,” I said.
Cody laughed.
I hung up the call.
Maya had since disappeared.
But I was far from done with her.
I paid Cody’s rent and threw him some money to piss away on garbage.
If it kept him quiet and out of trouble while I was gone, it was worth it.
I was pissed off as I stormed out of my office, my sights set on Maya.
She leaned over her desk, fifteen folders open, her hair falling in front of her face. Wearing a shirt that hugged her neck so tight, I was surprised her face wasn’t red from being choked.
She looked at me. She looked flustered.
I stared for a few seconds, taking way too much of her in.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Anything I can do?”
“What are you working on?”
“The massive project you dropped on my desk this morning,” she said. “Remember?”
“Oh yeah,” I said. “How’s that going?”
“Comparing ten years of financial data? When I have no experience doing that? It’s going great, Cole. This is fun.”
“Close those folders, Maya,” I said. “Let’s talk for a second. I want to go over what we’re walking into together.”
“Together?” Maya asked. “I thought I was just someone to hang off your arm in front of Mr. Pickle.”
“You are,” I said. “But you need to do it the right way. And you need to know how he is.”
“Okay…”
“Come here,” I said.
Maya moved from around her desk. “What?”
“Right now. That look you have. You can’t keep that look. You look irritated and a little confused.”
“I am,” she said.
“You can’t be in front of him. You have to be tall and confident.”
“I’m not tall, Cole,” she said.
She put her hand to the top of her head as though I couldn’t see how short she was.
She came up to my chest.
Mr. Pickle loved tall women. That super model stature was his thing. A woman taller than him, who listened to him… he would be in heaven.
Maya was the opposite of that.
It made me wonder if my crazy idea was just that… too crazy.
“If he flirts with you, you can smile, right?” I asked.
“Cole, I work for you,” she said. “If I can survive you, I can survive anything or anyone.”
“Was that a shot at me?” I asked.
“I think it was,” she said.
“You know, I’m in the mood for coffee.”
Maya swallowed hard. “Coming right up, Cole.”
She walked by me and an idea hit me.
“Maya, wait,” I said.
I slowly turned.
“What now?” she asked.
I smiled. “We’re going out for a coffee… together.”
The lights were dimmed and there was no music.
This wasn’t some cliché cafe with big windows and old looking boxes screwed to the walls with rustic looking tables, chairs and music playing.
Here, it was quiet and had a sense of luxury to it.
Maya sat across from me in a leather seat.
The cup of coffee in front of her was in a small, pearly white cup.
I watched her eyes moving around the place, taking it in.
“How’s the coffee?” I asked.
“Truthfully? I don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“The price, Cole. I saw what you paid. It’s coffee.”
“It’s fancy coffee.”
“It’s coffee,” she said.
I smiled. “You know, this is the part where you could thank me.”
“Right.”
“You may never have a cup of coffee this expensive again.”
“Correction… I will never have a cup of coffee this expensive again. Even when I’m rich and famous, not a chance.”
I nodded. “I respect the confidence. You don’t show that too much in the office.”
“Cole, why did you bring me here?”
“To talk about Mr. Pickle,” I said. “And his expectations.”
“Of what? Me?”
I nodded.
“What do I have to do with anything?” Maya asked.
“Everything and nothing at all,” I said.
“Then don’t take me,” she said. “Seriously. You can call five hundred women.”
“Probably,” I said.
“So then why me?” Maya asked.
“Mr. Pickle is looking for a hot secretary,” I said.
Maya’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
“Do you have any makeup to wear? Something you can do with your hair? Some different