Page 8 of Tell Me What you Think

"Have a seat. I'm guessing you're here to sign off on the new position."

The woman who is still, for now, regional director sits down and waits as Núria, who already has the folder ready, finds it and sets it in front of her.

"Have you read through everything?" Núria asks.

"Cover to cover."

"Great, then sign on every page and take a look at these names."

Marina takes the pen, signs her name beneath Executive Vice President of Strategy, and shifts her gaze to another folder Núria is holding.

"What's that?"

"With Ricard's retirement, we're kicking off a new reassignment of assistants. There are four available profiles right now—you can choose whoever you'd like."

"Oh, right." Marina hadn't even thought about this.

Her role as regional director didn't come with a dedicated assistant; she'd shared an admin with a colleague. But this new position does come with that perk. She opens the folder and starts reading carefully: name, tenure, skills, and evaluations from previous managers. The first one seems promising, she rules out the second, she's on the fence about the third and decides she'll come back to her alongside the first—but when she reaches the fourth, she sets the other three aside without a second thought. The fourth name is Olga Serra, Ricard's assistant, who has been covering that same role for years. But Marina doesn't choose her simply because Olga must know the ins and outs of the position she just signed for better than anyone—she chooses her because she's worked with her before, more than once, and knows firsthand how efficient she is.

"I'd like it to be Serra."

"Olga is the most logical choice, yes, and she hasn't requested a transfer," Núria agrees, jotting down her name.

"Even so, don't assign her yet. The rotation system exists for a reason, and maybe she's burned out and ready for a change. Let me talk to her first and confirm."

"This is exactly why people love you," Núria says. "Alright, I'll make a note of it. Call me once you've spoken with her."

"Great, thank you."

Marina heads back to the twenty-second floor, and by coincidence, as the elevator doors open, Olga is walking right past them, taking a sip from a coffee she'd just grabbed from the machine in the hallway.

When she sees Marina step out, her feet stop dead—not because she has anything to say, but because she seems to have forgotten how to walk at the sight of the woman in a fitted pencil skirt and a blue silk blouse that brings out the color of her eyes. The sip goes down the wrong way, and Olga starts coughing like she might actually die, and it only gets worse when Marina steps closer and gives her a few gentle pats on the back.

By the time she recovers, her eyes are watering from the effort and she knows she must be red as a beet, but at least this time she has an excuse.

"Better?" Marina asks, her hand still resting on Olga's back.

Olga nods and manages something close to a grin. It's the second time Marina has touched her, and suddenly she feels like she's won the lottery.

"I choked—sorry about that."

Marina raises her eyebrows and blinks once with those ridiculously long lashes that send a quick flutter through Olga's chest.

"Why are you apologizing?" the regional director says, the corner of her mouth tilting up, and Olga wants the floor to open and swallow her whole.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I didn't—oh, God, I just did it again."

Marina smiles again, though this time without showing her teeth, and lets out a quiet breath through her nose, and Olga runs her hand across her chin because she's afraid she might actually be drooling.

"I was actually coming to find you—do you have a couple of minutes?" Marina asks, and Olga's eyes go wide.

"Uh, yeah, of course."

"Great. My office, if that works for you."

It's not really a question, because Marina has already turned around and started walking ahead of her, but Olga would have given anything to choose anywhere else—anywhere that didn't mean locking herself in a small room with this woman.

"Come in," Marina says, opening the door and stepping aside to let her through.