Reviewing my calendar, my two remaining personal assistants, Rebecca and Tim, could handle the week without Connor. They wouldn’t be happy but they could do it. However, more than a week would force them into longer than fifty-hour work weeks and create negativity I do wish to deal with.
I do not believe in unicorns or the power of prayer. I believe in being prepared. Denise, the head of my human resources, answers on the first ring.
“I want the files of three people. The best of the assistants and admins who can sit in for Connor for an undetermined amount of time. They must be able to travel at a moment’s notice, thick-skinned, and not inclined to tears like the last two people you sent up here.
“You have ten minutes. This should go without saying; however, considering the amount of leaks from your office, it is extremely confidential. The lives of any of my personal assistants, not just Connor, are not up for discussion.”
Her gasp is the last thing I hear as I hang up. I glance at the time; I don’t want her to think too hard. Often the decisions made under pressure are the right ones. The people she sent last year were perfect on paper, but in practice neither one lasted longer than a day.
I shoot a message to both Tim and Rebecca of Denise’s impending arrival, that Connor will be off for the week, and that I am still unavailable.
My cell goes off, the ringer warns me it is Gemma, my sister. I send it to voice mail without hesitation. No conversation has lasted less than ten minutes with Gemma in the last six months since her wedding planning went off the rails, with the addition of a Hindu wedding ceremony at her future mother-in-law’s insistence. With the weddings only three weeks away her frantic calls have increased. They often consist of nothing more than panicked, garbled, near-hysterical ranting before she hangs up.
Rebecca announces Denise before the woman follows. Denise clutches three files, her eyes wide behind her thick lenses. Owlishly she blinks at me as she offers the files to me, her head tilting in question. “These, are the best?”
I swallow a sigh; she always speaks in questions, timid and nearly stuttering around me.
“Tell me why.” I open the first file. “Keith Diamond.”
“Wharton graduate, he works hard. He wants to be you. He isn’t shy about saying it. Comes in early and stays late.”
Everyone wants to be me. I’m not impressed by his file. He might be from Wharton; however, his grades are lacking, his extracurriculars even less impressive.
“Next one.” I check the name. “Christina Connolly.”
“She, um, well there’s a rumor going around the office she’s been doing Simon’s job since she took over from his last assistant. He increased her salary significantly. I approved it because well you told us, while there’s the forty-five thousand minimum you want your employees to make, there’s no maximum.”
Clearing her throat, she shrugs. “Her previous performance supported a raise. She gets here before Simon but doesn’t stay late because of her grandfather. He’s got health issues. She lives with and supports him. He’s her first priority, as she’s made clear multiple times.”
I had gone still at her first sentence yet did not interrupt. Denise gets tongue-tied around me in the best of circumstances. The need for her to continue without fear kept me from questioning her. Closing the file on Christina Connolly, I allow my eyes to meet hers. Working to keep my tone even is not easy.
“A rumor that she is doing Simon’s job. Tell me about this rumor.”
What she sees has her taking a step back, almost tripping over her own feet. Her mouth opens and closes no less than four times. Anger is beginning to go from a simmer to a boil when she finally spits out: “Martin was overheard complaining about your compliments to Simon. Christina was a researcher for a year when she filled in for Simon’s assistant. Christina, she was good, is good. All the proposals for acquisition Simon has submitted for the last three years have been Christina’s.”
The scope of Simon’s duplicity is unlike anything I have known. I take a deep breath as I focus on the file of Christina Connolly, the woman who helped Simon perpetuate his lies.
“Leave.”
I pick up the phone. Before Diego Valdez answers Denise is already forgotten.
2
Christina
That bitch. I can’t believe Anna dared me. Risk versus reward, the bottom line of every acquisition. Words Ivan Volkov lived by and wanted his employees to live by. My cell phone rings, scaring the shit out of me in the quiet of the office. Ah damn it, it’s Lynne, the head of the nursing staffing agency.
“Hello?”
“Christina, it’s Lynne. I’m sorry. I tried to talk her out of it but Sharon quit today.”
Damn it. “I’m sorry. What did he do this time?”
“The usual racist remarks. He swears she hurt him on purpose checking his blood sugar. Sharon said his sugar was too high and that’s what made him extra cranky. High sugar or not, she refuses to go back even if he apologizes.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I sigh. I love Abuelo, but Jesus fucking Christ he is a pain in the ass. The man is a raging racist, which makes absolutely no sense to me. As far as he’s concerned it’s his right as a black Cuban man. Which was so shitty, Abuelo had never thought of himself as black until he came to America and began experiencing racism. In Cuba, it wasn’t an issue and since Abuelo’s father was an Italian man who ran the casino where
Abuelo’s mother had worked, he was actually lighter than many Cubans who weren’t black. But the racism Abuelo has endured has made him bitter. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve begged and pleaded; he refuses to curb his tongue in the best of times.