Page 127 of When I Was His

“Of course. You’re smart and talented. Once you learn the business, you can do anything,” Oliver affirmed, his voice brimming with certainty.

“Thank you for having faith in me,” I replied gratefully, feeling a surge of determination coursing through me.

“Always,” Oliver murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before excusing himself. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a conference call in five minutes. Join me when you get settled.”

I watched him depart, feeling a sense of excitement bubbling within me. It was my first day, and already I had a spacious office with its own bathroom. I imagined my coworkers whispering about the new girl working for Oliver, especially once they discovered our engagement.

Taking a few moments to compose myself, I settled into my new surroundings. I stowed my purse in the desk drawer and discovered a furniture catalog waiting for me. Flipping through its pages, I selected a few pieces to personalize my office. Before long, Henri knocked on my door, startling me from my thoughts.

“Yes?” I answered, slightly taken aback by his sudden appearance.

“I see you found the catalog. I can take your choices and create a requisition for whatever you desire,” Henri offered, his tone professional yet friendly.

“Uh, thank you,” I replied, feeling a pang of guilt as I considered the disparity between his role and mine.

Henri efficiently took note of my selections before swiftly departing. As I prepared to head to Oliver’s office, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Henri deserved my office more than I did.

Quietly entering Oliver’s office, I found him pacing as voices emanated from his desk phone. His gestures were confident and decisive, and he looked entirely at ease with his sleeves rolled up.

Taking a seat on the couch, I observed him conduct his meeting with a mixture of admiration and intrigue. When the call finally concluded, Oliver joined me on the couch, his expression expectant.

“Did you gain anything from my meeting?” he inquired, his gaze fixed on me.

“I did. It seems like you have a problem with your distributor,” I responded, drawing on what I had gleaned from the conversation.

Oliver nodded thoughtfully. “What do you propose I do about it?”

“Find another distributor,” I suggested, my mind racing with possibilities.

“I’ve looked. They’re more expensive,” Oliver admitted, a hint of frustration evident in his voice.

“Are your circuit boards getting made without parts?” I pressed, seeking to understand the root of the issue.

“No. The line is at a standstill,” Oliver confirmed, his brow furrowing with concern.

“Doesn’t it make more sense to pay the higher prices and take a smaller profit than letting the line sit? Do you have orders to fill?” I reasoned, offering a solution to the dilemma.

“Yes. We’re backlogged,” Oliver conceded, his expression softening as he considered my suggestion.

Our conversation continued, with each exchange reinforcing my belief that I could make a valuable contribution to Oliver’s business. As we brainstormed solutions together, I felt a sense of purpose blossoming within me, eager to prove myself in my new role alongside Oliver.

Oliver stroked his chin then went to his desk and typed a few things on his laptop. He looked at me and smiled then picked up the phone. He was talking to his production manager, Stanley. I listened closely. Oliver was taking my advice.

“You were right,” he said as he hung up the phone.

“You needed me to tell you that? You should fire your other people,” I teased, a playful smirk tugging at my lips.

“It wasn’t their choice. I tried to negotiate with the other distributors,” Oliver explained, his tone filled with exasperation.

“And how did that work out?” I quipped, unable to resist needling him a bit.

“Smartass,” he retorted with a chuckle.

“But you love me. So, what is the end result?”

“We’re offsetting the increase in parts price by passing half the cost onto the consumer. It’s only a few dollars and shouldn’t be a problem,” Oliver revealed, his expression softening as he shared the resolution.

“See, it wasn’t so bad,” I remarked, feeling a sense of satisfaction at our successful brainstorming session.

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