Opening the door, I find him holding out a thick file. “Read the notes, I want it back by two today.”
I’m so caught up in the report I miss lunch. It’s only the delivery of Leo’s lunch from a service for prepared, dietician designed meals that reminds me of it. I sign for the delivery and beep him to let him know it’s arrived.
“What is it?”
I read the lid. “Pasta primavera with grilled chicken.”
“I don’t want it. Order me a chicken parmesan sandwich with olives, onions, and peppers from Rudy’s deli and a side of oil and vinegar coleslaw. You can have the pasta or stick it in the refrigerator for another day.”
“Yes, sir.” I open the cheat notebook for all the information on Leo’s list of restaurants, preferred menu items, and dislikes. Rudy’s is the first on the list. When I call they assure me they deliver and will arrive soon. I hang up before even thinking about if I want something. It’s after one, and I’m starving. With a shrug, I open the lunch Leo didn’t want. I’m not a fussy eater.
It’s not bad. By the time the delivery man arrives with Leo’s sandwich I’m done and back to working on the report. When I knock, his voice is muffled. I open the door to see him on his cell phone. He lowers it from his mouth to bark at me. “Did I fucking say to come in?”
Oh god, I slam the door shut as I tremble from his harsh words. Almost five minutes later he sends me an instant message to bring in his lunch. When I open the door, his eyes are on me, as he listens to the person on the phone. There is something about the way he’s looking at me that causes heat to build low inside me. He doesn’t say a word, to me or the person on the phone.
As hard as I work, it’s thirty minutes after two before I’m finally done. I hit print and breathe deep. It can’t be that bad, it’s my first day there’s a learning curve, right?
When I knock at his door, there’s no answer. After what happened with his lunch I am not opening the door until he says to. I knock again. The door opens, he’s so damn huge he fills the open doorway. Shock at him opening the door, of him being so close has me fighting for air.
His eyes are glowing, “What time is it, Ms. Clark?”
My stomach drops. “Two thirty-three, sir.”
“What time did I tell you I wanted the report?”
“Two o’clock. I’m sorry, sir.”
“I do not want an apology. I wanted the report at two o’clock. You took more than fifteen minutes from the time I told you I wanted coffee until the time I got it. Ms. Clark if you want to keep your job, do not keep me waiting.” He takes the report from my tight grip then closes the door in my face.
I grab the doorframe to keep standing. He hates me. There’s something there in his eyes, he’s angry with me. Did he know? As soon as I think it, I shake my head. If he knew he would be much worse.
The rest of the afternoon has me jumping every time a notification sounds from my email. He’s emailed me twice, both were no more than two sentences. One is for information on a company, the other is for information on a person. Both are due before seven o’clock tonight.
It takes hours to finish the report on the company first and email it to him at ten minutes after five. Six seconds later he responds it’s shit and to do it again. I’m sitting there in shock when he emails me again to look at the reports Victoria completed and to do it like she did. What? I did.
I pull up the instructions Victoria created for her successor and go to the request for information reports. Damn it, they were a little different but not that—wait. Shit.
It takes another hour of digging deeper to find everything Leo demands and redo my initial report. When I send it again only three seconds later, he sends it back. I need to change the font style and size. Seriously? What a jerk. I make the change and send it again. Nothing.
My eyes are burning when I’m finally done on the second report. It’s five before seven when I change the font and size and send it to Leo. Thankfully, there’s no response. I start to shut down then remember what Victoria had said. I sigh, then make a call.
They promise to have it delivered in twenty minutes. While I wait, I take my time shutting down and leaving things ready for the next day. There’s still a few minutes, so I run to the restroom.
As I come down the hall, Leo is leaving his office. He sees me and stops.
“I thought you’d left.” It’s an accusation.
“No, I would let you know when I leave. I’m waiting for a delivery.”
A muscle in his cheek jumps as I get closer. He’s taking up the entire hallway. His shoulders are so wide, he is just so damn powerfully built I can’t take my eyes off him. I stop only a foot from him. It’s closer than what feels polite, it’s not nearly close enough. I’m dying to touch him, my fingers feel sensitive, I press my hand against my stomach to stop me from reaching out.
When he sees it, his face hardens, and he turns away. What? What’s the matter? I open my mouth to ask him except the elevator dings a moment before it opens, saving me from myself.
With a tight smile, I take the food from the young kid and thank him. Leo’s door is still open. I push inside and walk the bag to his desk. “From Langston’s. It’s a prepared salad of spinach and romaine with some things you can add, diced chicken, or turkey with toppings they know you’ll like. Now, I’m leaving for the day.”
His only answer is a nod, not even a thank you. Jerk.
7