I tap Winona on the arm. “We should talk,” I say to her.
She never stops typing. “I’m busy with my actual job.” I look at her screen and see that she’s typing the words “Dove-Gray-Dickweasel” again and again. That is not part of her actual job, but now would be a very bad time to point that out.
I lean forward and lower my voice. “I’m really sorry about this week. I missed a meeting with Akiri on Sunday. The designer I told you about?”
My answer is the tap-tap-tap of angry fingers.
“He was furious. He went to the press and trashed me, said I was unreliable.”
“Unreliable?” she says coolly. “You don’t say.”
Ouch.
I glance at her desk. A thermos next to her computer, which means she’s bringing her own coffee. A package of Ramen noodles peeks from the garbage can.
The reason I moved her to the personal shopper department was because I knew she had the potential to earn more money here, through commissions. She won’t let me actually give her money, she’s made that clear, so this was a sneaky back-door way to fatten up her bank account. It was also a sacrifice, for me, because I wouldn’t be able to spend nearly as much time with her, but it was more important to me that she have the money she needs.
I know that she’s already earned major commissions from two very high-dollar clients that I steered her way, and I made sure that I expedited payment on those commissions. I also padded the payments as much as I thought I could get away with without her catching on; hopefully she didn’t figure out what I did.
So why is she still broke? This worries me. Maybe she’s increased the amount she’s ordering from her parents?
She follows my gaze. “Something you want to ask me?”
I shoot a look at the wastebasket again. “You just got your commission check. You’re eating Ramen noodles. Do you have a gambling addiction I don’t know about?”
“I meant a work-related question. My food and beverage choices are not up for discussion.”
I can’t ask her where she’s spending her money, and if I tried to give her money, she’d probably knee me in the family jewels.
“I’m sorry I’ve been MIA this week. I’m sorry I went to Paris without telling you.”
“The trip that you told Sloane about, but not me?”
“What?” I bark, appalled. “Oh, come on, Winona! You know how I feel about her!”
“I don’t, actually. I don’t know how you feel about anything.”
No wonder she’s so mad. I disappeared, and then Sloane slithered in and poisoned the well, doing her best to make Winona doubt me.
“I didn’t tell Sloane anything. I have no idea how she knew, although if I had to guess, I’d suspect that my uncle had a hand in it. She and I are one hundred percent through. I did not lie when I told you that.”
“You’ll understand if I no longer believe that every word you speak is dripping with truthiness. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m falling behind schedule because of you.”
I lean back in my chair, swallowing the sour taste of frustration. Okay, this probably isn’t the best environment for a full-scale grovel.
“Could I please take you out to dinner tonight?” Reschedule the Dubai call, reschedule the Los Angeles meeting…
“Hard pass.”
Fine. I’ll pull the boss card. “Okay then. Put this in your schedule, please. See? I made a request, and I said please. I’m capable of change. And I need you to attend a meeting with me tomorrow night.”
“I’m busy tomorrow night.”
“You’re not actually allowed to turn down any work-related assignments, no matter what time of day or night. It’s in your contract.”
“You mean my personal assistant contract? It’s certainly not in Shanice’s contract.”
“How would you know what’s in her contract? Have you been talking to her?” It hits me like a gong to the head. Clever, sneaky Winona – she called Shanice to get the rundown on how to do the assistant job. “Of course. That’s how you knew how to get hold of my dry cleaner, my dentist, my personal trainer…”
“That’s how I knew the things that kept me from getting fired, yes.”
Clever, sneaky Shanice, too. She’s been chatting with Winona all this time, and she never said a word to me when I called her and offered her a huge bonus to stay the heck away from work for a few more weeks.
Then again, I’m pretty sure she never ratted me out to Winona about how I