He gave some sort of wobbly-headed nod that might have been an indicator of early onset Parkinson’s or a just severe caffeine withdrawal, and just like that, the meeting was over. I got to my feet with the rest of them, casting covert looks around as I tried to remember where my office was. But first thing’s first. I saw Jamie’s dark hair bobbing his way out into the hall, and I made a bee-line for him, unintentionally/intentionally side-stepping Michael as he crossed toward me through the crowd.
“Jamie?” I called tentatively.
He stopped outside a closed office door and waited patiently as I hurried over in my unforgiving shoes. When I finally got there, breathless and shook with nerves, he offered me a gracious smile. “It’s Katie, right?”
“About that...”
He pushed open the door, and I followed him inside, closing it carefully behind me. His office was nearly identical to mine, save for the dozens of pictures all around the room of him smiling with his arm around an equally smiling woman. They were a cute couple, I thought. Both attractive, in an approachable sort of way, both glowing with obvious love.
I gestured with an ice-breaking grin. “She’s pretty.”
His face softened automatically as he followed my gaze. “Stacy. She’s a middle school teacher—we’ve been together six years.” The smile lingered as he pushed up his glasses and settled behind his chair. “Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
I sank into a chair across from him, stiff with guilt. Where did I begin? Was that to be my first and last meeting at Larchwood? Had I blown it already? Maybe I should have taken Michael up on that wink.
“Katie’s not coming,” I began quietly. Despite his kind demeanor, I was having trouble meeting his eyes.
“Uh-huh, yeah, I guessed that.” He was trying not to laugh. “Want to tell me why?”
Just relax, Jen. You deserve this. No matter how you did it, you deserve to be here.
I lifted my chin and tried for that blast of confidence that had gotten me in the door. “She couldn’t take the pressure. Said she hated finance. Her fiancé left her and she was headed back to California.” I paused, editing, and wondering how much to admit. Jamie seemed like a good guy, but he was established here while I...was an imposter by every definition of the word. “I met her in the bathroom on her way out. I was on my way in.”
He studied me over the tops of his glasses and my heart froze in my chest. He may have a fresh, youthful air about him, but he was a shark just like the rest. You had to be if you worked in a place like this.
“You were on your way in to do what?”
I gulped. “To interview for an assistant’s position with Patti Macer. She asked if I was her help from California and I...”
“...you just did what any of the rest of us would do.”
My head snapped up, and I saw his eyes were sparkling. “Jenna, right?” I nodded. “Jenna, I’m the inter-office liaison—you know what that means?”
I nodded again. It meant that he had risen impossibly fast to a position of great importance considering his age. It also meant he had the power to fire me.
“Where did you go to school?”
The question surprised me, and my resume—which I’d been chanting to myself for the last four weeks—rose to the surface of my brain.
“Princeton, then Harvard Business School. Followed by an eighteen-month internship with Goldman Sachs.”
“You left Goldman Sachs,” he looked surprised, “why?”
I looked him evenly in the eyes. “Because I want to work here.”
Even though it was clear my feminine charms wouldn’t work on a guy so happily taken; I could tell my soft-spoken honesty moved him. He studied me another moment before suddenly asking,
“How did China open in the market today?”
“Hong Kong or Shanghai?”
His mouth twitched. “Both.”
“Up eight and up seven, respectively.”
“What was Larchwood’s total net gain last quarter?”
“Four point seven. Best in nine years.”
“And the Central American dropout?”
“Due mostly to experimental weather patterns and some bad Shakira concerts, nothing worth noting.”