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I wait for what seems like an hour though it’s only a few minutes. I half expect the brush off from his assistant saying they’ll take a message.
“Emma, how are you? Did you get the roses?”
I’m shocked that they put me right through to Jordan. It makes it harder for me to talk than just leaving a voicemail.
“Emma?”
“Uh, hi.”
“Are you okay?”
“Thank you for the beautiful roses. We need to talk. Can you meet me tonight?”
“That doesn’t sound good. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, not at all. I just have something to say, and it’s better done in person.”
“I’m tied up until about seven tonight. Can I stop by your place?”
Do I really want him to come to the scene of the crime? Then I remember that Nate will be home, so I at least have a buffer.
“We could meet for coffee.”
“Very well. Text me the address.”
I’m about to hang up with him and realize I still haven’t asked for his cell number.
“Jordan, I need your number.”
“I thought I gave it to you.”
“No, I never got it.”
“What’s your email address? I can send you all my contact information.”
I give him my email, which I can check on my phone. I don’t need my business going through the Scarborough Publishing company server. I tell him goodbye and hang up. I can feel a cloud hanging over me about what I have to do. I don’t want to hurt him since he’s been so lovely.
I know that Angie is anxiously staring at my back, but I don’t want to engage her. There are too many ears in this place. I’ll call her tonight after I end it with Jordan. My stomach tightens with nervousness, and it’s hours away from when I’ll see him.
The stack of manuscripts on my desk beckons, and I pull the one I was previously working on about some fictitious spy group in Europe. I have about a quarter of it to go before I’m finished. It was a hard edit with over five hundred pages to read. It goes to Nicky after I’m done. I hope the little shit doesn’t give me a hard time.
I’m finding it hard to concentrate because I keep running scenarios in my head of what I’m going to say to Jordan tonight. He sounded depressed when I told him we had to talk. I want to make it short and sweet. If I had him come to my apartment, I might not have gotten out what I want to say. A public venue is a better place to do it.
My phone pings, and I check to see an email from Jordan with all his contact information. His office is in the Ballard Building in Midtown, which is a mix of office space and residences. I’ve heard of it because Robert Scarborough maintains a private office there since Scarborough Publishing is not his only business. I guess he got Jordan a good deal on space.
I’m surprised to see that Grayson Enterprises maintains the entire forty-eighth floor. I click on the link included in Jordan’s signature, and it takes me to the Grayson website. The offices are beautiful and full of glass, luxurious dark wood, and leather. He must be bringing in good money, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. I’ve never been swayed by wealth.
The about page has pictures of all the executives, and Jordan looks sexy in a blue pinstriped suit standing in front of a wall of windows overlooking the city. His smile is soft and genuine. I begin to feel horrible about what I’m about to do in a few hours. That is until I hand in the manuscript to Nicky.
A half-hour later, he’s calling me into his office for a little chat. I slide into the straight-backed cushioned seat in front of his desk and wait for him to shred me. He has his glasses perched low on his nose, and he’s examining some pages of the manuscript I recently returned to him.
“This work is subpar and not what I expect from you. You were given this position on your skills and referrals. I’m beginning to think those were exaggerated.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I worked my ass off on that manuscript. The head editors tell me that I’m one of the best assistant editors they have. Yet to hear Nicky tell it, I’m not worth much. I’m so angry I could spit nails, but I hold my tongue from what I want to say.
“Nicky, what exactly is wrong with the manuscript. I did the proper edits.”
“I found things that you should have caught in the first chapter. The first chapter, Emma. What am I going to find in the rest of it since it’s forty-five chapters? Take it back and go through it. I expect perfection when you give it back. Oh, and since you already went through it, you have until Wednesday to finish the second edit even if you have to stay late.”
