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“Putting it all together, I assume you were lighting a candle for your birthday, alone in the breakroom, and the flame was too close to the towels.”

“Yes,” I answer, my shoulders slumping with shame. “Wait, you knew it was me and you’re still offering me Lily’s job?”

“Temporarily,” he amends. “And yes, for some reason Lily thinks you’ll be a good fit.”

“Of course, I’ll be an amazing assistant. It’s just, I’m shocked.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” Montgomery grumbles.

“You won’t,” I promise him.

I’m still stunned, but expecting him to give me my marching orders, whatever he needs done for the day, but he just sits there flipping my lighter end over end like he’s lost in thought.

So, I wait him out.

“There’s something else you should be aware of,” he eventually says. “I’m only telling you this in confidence so you can make plans.”

“Okay?”

“The company is about to lay off two dozen employees. The first positions to go will be part time.”

My stomach sinks in understanding. “My current job as a floater is gone?”

“Yes. At least you’ll have seven months to prepare for what comes next, unlike the others…”

So, that’s it. In seven months, I’m going to be even poorer unless I manage to find another job, all while filling in as the administrative assistant to the CEO, one of the most demanding jobs in the office. Possibly the city.

“I accept, and I understand that I’ll be leaving Crawford Holdings as soon as Lily comes back.”

“Good,” Montgomery replies. “Now let’s get to work, starting with going over to HR so you can tell them exactly what happened…”

“Oh, no,” I interrupt him with a shake of my head that reminds me my curls are probably a tangled mess. “I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean you can’t do that?” he huffs.

“This will be my third strike. And I don’t know if you’re familiar with the rules of baseball, but three strikes mean I’m out of here.”

“Proper procedures must be followed.”

“Well, then I guess you’re going to be in a pretty tough spot with no assistant,” I tell him. “You’ll have to schedule dozens of interviews to find the right person, then train them yourself.”

Montgomery glares at me for several long seconds. “You expect me to lie for you?” he asks indignantly, as if I’ve just asked him to be my accomplice for murder.

“You don’t have to lie. Just don’t tell them the whole embarrassing truth.”

“IT already knows everything,” he points out. “They gave the footage to the fire department, who I convinced not to investigate further.”

That’s a relief, but my job, my livelihood is still on the line.

“But does HR know that IT knows what happened? Does IT know that HR doesn’t know about the security footage?”

Montgomery groans and slides lower in his chair while scrubbing his palms over his face. “The company can’t afford another scandal, especially not one that implicates me.”

“Right, and I wouldn’t let you take the fall for me. All you have to do to CYA is draft an email without any email addresses on it, so it doesn’t accidentally get sent, then save it in your drafts folder. If anything ever comes up, you could say you got busy and forgot to send it after your assistant called to say she’s out on maternity leave a month earlier than expected. That would be an understandable explanation, right?”

“I’m not sure if I should be appalled or impressed by your deviousness,” he remarks.

“Worst-case scenario, you tell HR you forgot to send the email, had no idea I was on my third strike, then fire me sooner than Lily comes back. You’re totally off the hook.”