12. Lia

12

LIA

"Every Tuesday?"

"I'll be here. I can't very well let you fold a thousand cranes alone."

I didn't even know if I'd follow through on my plan yet. I just needed something to keep busy, something to do that felt useful, even though I knew it wasn't.

But Caleb probably needed something to pass the time too. I couldn't imagine watching Mason's progress, or lack thereof, was any easier on him than it was me.

—Sarah, from One of a Thousand Wishes by A. R. McGeorge

I t'd been a coin toss getting ready that morning, and in the end I'd decided to dress for the job I wanted...which, in my head, had been some sort of crawling, dick-sucking-beneath-Rhaim's-office-desk succubus.

After meeting him the morning prior, I was fairly certain he wanted that too.

Up until he didn't—I went home quickly, changed into leggings and a loose long-sleeved blouse, and then returned to find Rhaim waiting for me, holding a coffee and scanning through his phone, leaning on his assistant's empty desk, where I noticed the small tasteful photos of her grandchildren had been taken down, although her large sterling silver elephant paperweight remained.

"She's gone?" I asked with horror. As much as I envied his assistant her closeness to Rhaim, I wouldn't have wanted to put an old lady out on the street.

Rhaim chuckled. "No. But she's been here almost as long as I have. I told her to take some of her vast accrual of vacation days—and gave her keys to one of your father's properties in Cabo."

I squinted up at him and took a wary step back. "But I don't just want to be your assistant, Rhaim," I protested.

"Hmm," he complained, and one of his eyebrows arched in contemplation. "Who told you you could call me by my first name?"

I wasn't entirely sure of the rules of this game...or if we were even playing one.

"No one. Sir?" I guessed.

He grunted to agree. "That or Mister Selvaggio."

"Understood—but I still don't want to be just your assistant."

"Just my assistant," he muttered, only pretending I couldn't hear. "When less than a week ago you were my janitor?" he said lightly, mocking me. "What do you want to be?"

Now that Mrs. Armstrong was gone, that meant that he and I were in here alone, and I knew that his waiting room couch was quite comfortable...

But if that was the only thing he'd wanted, he would've taken it from me earlier.

If he'd asked, I would've freely given it.

"A business partner," I said, raising my chin up slightly.

He took another sip of his coffee, contemplating me again. "In all senses of the word, eh?" But before I could answer him, he strode away from her desk towards the door between this room and his own. "She left all her passwords on the desk for you. Hop into her systems, change them to something you'll remember, and familiarize yourself with her setup. We'll see how far you get before this afternoon."

I got the impression that Rhaim had left me with an onerous task on purpose.

I hadn't taken a class on making sense of someone else's email sorting system when I was getting my MBA.

It honestly wasn't any better than working janitorial—at least then I'd been able to sing on the job.

Maybe tomorrow I'd bring headphones.

It seemed like Mrs. Armstrong had helped Rhaim out with all sorts of lower-level chores—anyone who wanted to book time with him had to come through her—and the phone on her desk kept ringing.

I was nervous at the thought of picking it up— why couldn't they just text him?— and let most of them go to voicemail, where I could sort them out later, without worrying about accidentally saying the wrong thing.

And then at half past eleven, Rhaim emerged from his office, fluidly walking for the door.

I didn't know what else to do, so I stood up. He cast one strange glance at me doing so, and then kept heading out.

"Wait!" I exclaimed. "Where are you going?"

He paused and turned toward me slowly. "It's called lunch, Lia."

"But—" I opened up his calendar quickly. "You don't eat lunch until twelve fifteen." He made a slight growling sound. "Mrs. Armstrong ran this desk like a Swiss watch, Rhaim," I said, then caught myself. "Sir," I corrected, and then I went on. "So where are you going that's not on my calendar?"

He gave me a look of exasperation. "Sometimes I go places you're not supposed to know about."

"Well, what do I tell people if they come by and ask where you are?"

"You can tell them I'm taking a shit for all I care," he said with a cruel chuckle, before giving me a wicked grin.

"I'm trying to take some pride in my job here," I huffed.

"It's your first day. Sit your ass down. Take a long lunch of your own."

"Shouldn't I go with you? To take notes or something?" I said, before casting a wild look around for a notepad.

"Do you think I'm incompetent?" he asked.

I reeled back a little. "No. Of course not. But—" If something wasn't officially on his calendar, then I knew it had likely something to do with my father's other projects. "I'm not like that stupid daughter on The Sopranos ," I told him. Whatever it was he was going off to do, I wanted to go with him.

I wanted to learn everything.

I didn't have any fear.

He considered me for a moment then, before putting one hand on the desk and leaning over with the other to take hold of my chin like he had at Vertigo and pull me towards him.

I went willingly—I would've followed him out of the building like that, if he'd only seen fit to let me—until he whispered in my ear. "Says the stupid girl who says shit like that where anyone can hear her." His voice was dark and rough and it did bad things to me, even as it mocked me. "What did I tell you when we first met here?" he asked as he rocked back.

I flashed back to the occasion. "Not here. Never here."

"Good girl." He let go of my chin, so I could lower it, abashed. "I'll be back in three hours. Figure out how to cancel my 1 p.m. meeting before you go eat. Otherwise there will be five men in suits pissed off at you," he said and left the room.

I waited until the door closed behind him to pick up my phone.

The anger of five men in suits was nothing compared to one utterly obsessed girl.