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“And you are aware of how to send an email?”
“I am.” My face flushed, and the nausea that hadn’t really disappeared since Monday intensified.
“Then perhaps in the future, you could use that knowledge and your common sense to realize that emailing me a reminder is much more efficient and far less disruptive. Do you think that’s something you can manage, Ms. Gates?”
“Yes, sir.” My voice was barely above a whisper, and I didn’t dare look at Richard. The Controller was a nice guy with whom I got along well, and I was miserably ashamed he was witnessing this. I would burst into tears if I saw even a hint of pity in his gaze.
“Good,” Mr. Rainer said dismissively. He turned to Richard. “Did you give her the spreadsheets to merge and format?”
I spoke quickly. “He did. I’m almost -”
Mr. Rainer held up his hand and made a shushing sound like I was a dog being scolded. “I am not speaking to you, Ms. Gates.”
I chewed hard on my bottom lip, ignoring the stinging pain. I’d practically chewed the damn thing raw in the last three days.
I still couldn’t look at Richard but the sympathy in his voice made me want to cry. “I gave it to Riley this morning.”
“Why didn’t you finish it for our meeting?” Mr. Rainer raised his terrible cold gaze to me.
“Oh, I didn’t tell her we needed it for the meeting,” Richard said quickly.
“But common sense would suggest that we could review it during our meeting. Therefore, it should have been Ms. Gates' priority. Don’t you agree, Ms. Gates?”
“Yes.” I sounded like a whipped puppy, and more shame spiralled through me. “I’ve almost finished it and will email it to you in five minutes.”
“My meeting with Richard will be over in three,” he said.
I stood uncertainly by the door for another thirty seconds, my face going red hot when Mr. Rainer glanced at me, sighed impatiently, and flicked his fingers at me. “You’re dismissed.”
I left his office like angry badgers were clawing at my legs and immediately rushed to the bathroom. Despite how hard I tried to hold it in, I was going to cry. I knew that as well as I knew my own name.
I barricaded myself in a stall, buried my face in my hands to muffle the sound, and sobbed. It was Wednesday afternoon, and the last three days had been hell. The terrible first impression I’d made with Mr. Rainer had thrown me off a little, and I’d made a couple of careless mistakes that afternoon that, while ultimately small and unremarkable, had cemented his belief I was a waste of space.
I’d told myself repeatedly that one bad day didn’t mean anything, and after a mostly sleepless Monday night, by Tuesday morning, I’d somewhat convinced myself it was true. I would be perfect all day, and Mr. Rainer would see for himself that I was not only competent at my job but the best damn assistant he’d ever had.
Unfortunately, despite not making a single mistake, Mr. Rainer’s impression of me seemed already set in stone. He was cold and dismissive Tuesday and today and seemed to go out of his way to make me feel small and stupid.
During my lunch break on Tuesday, I'd called Ella, sitting in my car in the parking garage, shivering from the cold while I blubbered my way through an explanation of my new work hell. Her suggestion that Mr. Rainer was probably a dick to everyone he perceived to be below him had helped boost my confidence that afternoon.
Until I overheard him talking to Farah in the kitchen. He’d been friendly and warm and had displayed none of the cold disdain radiating from him whenever he looked in my direction.
This morning, after another mostly sleepless night, I’d stared at the dark circles under my eyes and my swollen and bleeding bottom lip and finally admitted the truth. I’d fucked up with Mr. Rainer, and I had no idea how to fix it.
I hated being like this, but I needed his approval to be happy and fulfilled at my job. It had only been forty-eight hours, and already I was miserable. If I didn’t figure out a way to fix my working relationship with Mr. Rainer, what would I be like in another month, hell, another week?
I’d always been good at my job and somewhat fulfilled my need for praise through my work. If my boss found me incompetent and had nothing but complaints about me, how would I fulfill that need now?
You have Mr. Steele.
I grabbed some toilet paper, wiped my eyes, and blew my nose. Just thinking about Mr. Steele and being on my knees beside him while he stroked my hair in his warm, quiet office helped soothe me. Only a few more hours, and I could forget how badly I was failing here and concentrate on nothing but being his good girl.
I wiped my eyes a final time and left the stall. I washed my hands at the sink and studied my reflection. My face was pale, and my eyes were red with swollen lids. I ran my tongue along my raw bottom lip, wincing at the sting and the metallic taste of blood.
I took a deep breath and dried my hands. “You can do this, Riley. Only a few more hours, and then you’ll be with Mr. Steele.”
CHAPTER 10
Riley
