Page 2 of Miss Understanding

His full lips turned down into a frown. As if he was put out by the thought of having to rough it at the Ritz?

“You arrive the day before the deposition. I have a car and driver who will pick you up from the airport and take you to the hotel. Then another car will take you to the office building where the deposition will be held. The address of the office and the driver’s number are all in your portfolio.”

“I can’t stress how important this deposition is.”

Perhaps if he told me for a fiftieth time it would sink in. “I understand.”

It was my key phrase whenever I wanted to tell him something like, no shit. Yep, just call me Miss Understanding.

The deposition he spoke of regarded a former government contractor employee who had evidence against the CEO of a security firm. This CEO had committed fraud and embezzled the employee pension funds. The key witness, who’d been the CEO’s assistant, had fled to Asia to keep his whereabouts on the down low, but he had agreed to this deposition if we came to him in Hong Kong to do it. Considering the number of people who were suing, most being represented by this firm, his testimony was critical.

“Nothing can interrupt the preparation I have planned for the next two weeks. I’ll need you full-time on this.”

“I’ve cleared your schedule as requested. And I have no other priority but this deposition.” Wasn’t like I had another attorney I was working for. But I did dread the next couple of weeks. I’d learned Liam was the most stressed and the moodiest before a trial or deposition. Beyond that, preparation for this deposition would mean long days for me. At least I had a winter break next week in my night classes. If I had to work late, I wouldn’t have to sacrifice school nights.

Suddenly his cell phone vibrated. He ignored it. I didn’t think anything of it until his office phone rang a moment after.

He made brief eye contact with me but made no move to check the number.

Keeping myself from sighing aloud that he expected me to answer it, I stood up, stretched across his desk where the phone was inches from him, and picked up the receiver.

Dickhead’s office who can’t answer his own damn phone even when it’s directly in front of him. How may I help you? Lucky for me it came out, “Liam Davenport’s office. How may I assist you?”

Hysterics from a woman greeted me. “Oh God, oh God, I need to talk to him.”

What did I want to bet it was an ex-girlfriend who’d realized he’d ghosted her? Although I had some sympathy for her, I would keep him from having to deal with it. It was my job. To be the gatekeeper here at the office. To guard every billable minute Liam Davenport could be working for the firm. She’d have to deal with stalking him after hours. “Ma’am, please calm down. What is this regarding?”

My boss paused in his typing, looking over.

“This is his mother. His father died. I need to speak to him, please.”

Oh, crap. Talk about instant guilt. Here I’d been thinking she was some jilted lover. “I’m terribly sorry. Of course. One moment.”

I put the call on hold, mainly so I could take a deep breath. I may loathe this gorgeous, pompous ass I worked for, but I wasn’t heartless. “Your mother needs to speak with you urgently.”

“Tell her I’ll call her later.” Evidently, I was the only one in the room with a heart. His eyes were already back on the screen of his monitor, perusing his email as if he couldn’t be bothered.

I refused to be the one to tell him his father had died. “You need to speak with her now.”

He shook his head. “Actually, I don’t. Take a message or tell her I’ll call her back.”

I lost it. It was the only explanation for my next words. “Pick up the fucking phone, Liam.”

His shocked blue gaze met mine, and for a moment I thought his next words would be “you’re fired.” But he must’ve seen it in my eyes. The unmistakable seriousness of the moment.

He reached over, taking the receiver and pressing the button to take her off hold.

Figuring this was a private moment in which his world would be falling apart, I turned around and left the office.

Chapter Two

Kendall

As I sat back down at my desk, I realized I was shaking. Probably because a year ago I’d received a similar frantic call from my mother at the office. She’d been in hysterics, telling me my father had been taken by ambulance to the emergency room. It had been a heart attack. The two-hour cab ride south to Orange County had been the worst of my life. I hadn’t known if he’d still be alive by the time I got there. Once I’d arrived at the hospital and found his room, I’d held his hand, cried my tears, and prayed harder than I ever had in my life for him to survive. Luckily, he had.

He’d listened to the doctors, changed his diet, and started taking better care of himself. He’d even lost thirty pounds. The only problem was he’d had to cut down on the hours he spent on the factory line. My mother, who was a school teacher, had taken a second job cleaning houses on the weekends. As their only child, I’d tried to help out where I could while also trying to finish school to get my bachelor’s degree.

Now I took a deep breath, emotional over the feelings Liam’s mother’s call had evoked. Then the ramification of telling my boss to pick up the fucking phone started to sink in. I’d also called him by his first name. He wouldn’t care for that slip, either. By now, chances were he was beside himself learning about the death of his father, so perhaps he’d forgive the overstep of my cursing at him. God knows I couldn’t afford to be fired.