Page 103 of The October Arrangement

“You won’t.” He smiled.

The moment we stepped out of the elevator, all eyes were on us. Simon introduced me to some of the staff. So far, everyone was welcoming.

“There you two are.” William smiled. He hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Good to see you, Bella.”

“You too, William.”

“Follow me. I’ll show you to our new division and your office.”

The further we went down the hallway, I noticed a half-wall that wasn’t there before, with the words MONTCLAIR LIVING in gold letters.

“Dad, where did this come from?” Simon asked.

“I had the crew here all day yesterday setting everything up.

There were five cubicles set up in the space, with an all-glass office containing an elegant desk, a leather chair, a computer, a couch, a coffee table, two chairs across from the desk, and a console table lining one wall, while the other was a huge projection screen.

“This is your office, Bella.”

“Wow.” I grinned.

“I think your view is better than mine,” Simon said.

“Patrick, get in here,” William shouted.

A young man walked in holding a cup of coffee.

“Bella, meet Patrick. He’s your assistant. Patrick, meet Bella, your boss.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Bella.” He extended his hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Patrick.” I lightly shook his hand.

“You will have a staff of five, including Patrick. I’m also giving Montclair Living a three-hundred-thousand-dollar budget to start with.”

“Marketing isn’t going to be happy about that,” Simon smirked.

“Then they can seek employment elsewhere,” William said. “All the files for Montclair Tribeca are on your desk. Now, get those units sold.” He winked.

Simon glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting in five minutes. I’ll see you later. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I smiled.

Two Weeks Later

Simon

I was in the middle of looking over a contract when my office door opened without so much as a knock. There were only two people at the company who had the right to do that. My father and Bella. She was out of the office shooting footage, so I knew it wasn’t her.

“Good morning, Dad,” I said, my concentration still on the contract.

He set a stack of papers on my desk. I looked at them, and then at him.

“What’s this?” I set my pen down.

“Tribeca,” he said.

I picked up the papers and leaned back in my chair. “What about it?”