Page 108 of Reckoning

He groaned, then waved at the desk. “Yes, yes, my apologies. My assistant quit three days ago without notice. I’m drowning in paperwork. Come in. Come in.”

“Then consider me the life preserver you need,” she said, and followed him into the office.

He picked up her résumé again, scanning it as he began to talk. “So, you’re from Missouri?” he asked.

“I grew up there. I just graduated from Tulane, summa cum laude with a degree in business administration.”

He was scanning through the résumé when he blinked, then looked up at her again. “You were a contractor for the remodel of a house at the age of seventeen?”

“Our whole town was hit by a tornado. My parents were separated and neither of them were home when it happened. My dad ran the only insurance agency in town. He was overwhelmed by the applications pouring in for damage assistance, so as they say, I pulled up my big girl panties, and I found the companies and crews I needed, made all the orders, and scheduled deliveries.”

David Gregory was staring, and he knew it, but she was an interesting young woman. “I would assume the men gave you a hard time?”

She shook her head. “I’m a ‘take no prisoners’ kind of woman. I don’t suffer fools, and in small towns, everybody knows everybody and their business. They knew better than to challenge me, not that I ever thought they would. I ran the show, and they did the work. We got it done.”

“You had an amazing SAT score. You’ve never received a grade below an A in your entire educational process. Summa cum laude at graduation and you want to work on the docks?” he asked.

“I want to work in a busy office. Life is not about where you live or work, it’s about how you conduct the life you’ve been given. I don’t know anything about shipping, but I’m a quick study. Give me a day to get your routine in my head and take the paperwork load off your shoulders. You won’t be sorry.”

David’s phone was ringing again. He rolled his eyes and let the call go to voicemail. “If you can do the impossible in this office and start right now, I’ll up the offer to fifty-seven hundred a month. That’s just shy of seventy thousand yearly.”

Briar’s eyes narrowed. “Put that in writing, and where do I sign?”

He rolled his eyes. “Somewhere in that outer office will be a file called employee contracts. If you can find it, then fill it out with the numbers I just gave you and bring it to me to sign. Are you married?”

“Not yet.”

“When you do take that path, I want to meet the man you choose. He would have to be something special.”

The phone rang again. Briar stood. “You take your call. I’ll be in the outer office.” She walked out.

David took a deep breath. “Please God, let her be the miracle worker I need,” he muttered, and picked up the call.

Briar moved the mail aside, put her purse on a chair, and began to search, starting with the computer, and the password written on a sticky note affixed to the screen.

“Good lord. Talk about a lack of security,” she said, and logged on. Typed in “hiring contracts.” A copy appeared on screen. She typed in the particulars, including the pay he’d named, then her name and David Gregory’s name beneath the lines to sign, and printed it out. She reread it again, then signed her name, carried it back to his office, and laid it on his desk.

He looked up. Glanced at the clock, then back at her again. “In less than ten minutes?”

She nodded. “Do you prefer your mail sorted by company name, and your name? And if so, do I open the mail addressed to the company only, and put the rest on your desk, or—”

“I don’t have a freakin’ secret in the world. I don’t cheat on my wife. We’re not shipping forbidden cargo. We have nothing to hide. You open it all, make notations, and then give them to me. We’ll figure the rest out as we go.”

She pointed at the contract. “You sign there, sir. I’ll make a copy for myself. The original will go in the office files. Since this is a rather large shipping company, am I to assume you have a financial division that does payments and payroll?”

He nodded.

“Then who do I notify about a new employee?”

“Send a copy of your contract to the finance office. There should be a link on your computer. Oh…I guess I need to give you the password for that.”

Briar frowned. “Umm, no, sir. Whoever it was that quit left the password taped to the front of her screen.”

David’s eyes widened. “For the love of all that’s holy! What in the—”

“It’s okay. I memorized it and shredded the note. I do need to notify my people that I was hired and am already at work. We don’t want them turning loose bloodhounds to come find me.” She walked out.

David sighed. When he went to church this Sunday, he needed to light a candle for the angel who’d sent her his way.