Stepping into her workspace, she pulled a packet of fresh hose from her desk. Rule number 10, it is unacceptable for an administrative assistant to don stockings with runs. Since Pam had no wish to be sent home for improper attire, she kept three spares in her drawer. Hopefully, she wouldn't go through the other two today.
She drew a scarf out to change the look of her outfit, even though she needed to wear the same blouse and skirt, which was most likely not approved for presidential admins either, though a rule against wearing the same clothes two days in a row was not listed in the handbook.
Remembering the cafeteria opened at seven, she rushed downstairs to grab a bite for breakfast, to avoid starting her calorie counting in the hole. She figured Rob wouldn't call until eight but didn't want to take any chances.
After selecting a yogurt sundae with fruit and granola, along with a cup of coffee, Pam paid for her bounty, and took a deep breath before taking the elevator back upstairs. She was turning the corner toward her cubicle when she noticed Adam talking on the phone. Correction—her phone.
With her stomach lodged in her throat, Pam continued forward when Adam glanced up and spotted her. The relief that came over his expression was unmistakable. He pointed to the phone in his hand and mouthed, "Rob."
Shit. She'd left her cell in Rob's office after he'd specifically told her to carry it at all times. She groaned. How many swats would he give her for that little infringement?
"Here she is," Adam announced with a smile. "Looks like she just stepped down to get some breakfast."
Slipping behind her desk, she thanked Adam and took the receiver. "Hi."
Silence.
"I'm sorry. I know I was supposed to keep my phone with me, but I didn't expect you to call for another half-hour, so I left it in your office and hurried downstairs."
"What did you get from the cafeteria?" he asked, and she let out a small sigh of relief. Maybe this wouldn't be the shot that started World War III.
"I got the yogurt and fruit combo."
"Good choice. How did you sleep?"
"Okay, I guess."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, but you're right. That couch is fine for a nap, but it's not all that comfortable for an entire night."
"I want you back at your place tonight."
He'd get no argument from her. "Are you coming home today?"
A long pause. "No, but I hope to fly back Friday night. It'll probably be late though. Which reminds me. I'd like you to do another work up on Koppler Industries. I think Hemley may be involved with them, too. I don't want you to stay past five, but if you could email me with whatever you find by close of business, I'd appreciate it."
"Sure thing. Am I looking for anything in particular?"
"Perhaps an unusual change in their hierarchical structure, or shifting one department to report under another that produced a sudden, unexpected spike in their profit and loss statement. Ask Adam for some of the key indicators and then go through the file to check if we may have missed any. Let me know if you spot anything out of the ordinary."
"Will do. Anything else?"
"Yes. Get your cell phone and attach it to your person. If I have trouble reaching you again, you and I will be discussing the necessity of following instructions. Capisce?"
"Si, signor."
A chuckle. "Brat. I'll talk to you later."
The rest of the morning was taken up with forwarding meeting requests on to Rob, finding available slots on his calendar to schedule those he approved, opening, sorting, and prioritizing his mail, filtering through his emails, answering his phone, and asking Krista about anything she wasn't sure about.
To make matters worse, her cell phone holder kept catching on her chair. She tried adjusting its position, but then the thing smacked against her desk drawer when she turned. She didn't recall having this much difficulty yesterday, so she had no idea what caused the problem today. Perhaps she was more fidgety after tossing and turning all night with the rumpled sheets and her sore back serving as testaments to her restlessness.
At noon, Pam went down to the cafeteria with Krista for lunch. More bubbly than usual, Krista chatted about her new boyfriend, Ted, whom she thought might be a keeper. They'd only been dating a few weeks, so she was eager to share her exploits of the previous night. Girl talk.
Pam enjoyed listening to Krista, but her knowledge of sexual activity was reduced to some awkward, unwanted groping from the first guy she dated after she was released from prison, and a sloppy kiss from a boyfriend in high school. Her relationship with her stepfather had not allowed for much socializing, and she'd quickly learned that girls fresh out of the penitentiary were considered easy.
When she returned upstairs, there was a message from the dress shop for Rob saying her clothes were ready and asking where to deliver them. They were her outfits, so she thought they should be sent to her place, but from the way the women drew up their noses in her presence, she doubted they'd accept her instructions. So, she shot off an email to Rob. He called three minutes later on the Peterson Enterprises line.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Why?"
"Well, for one, your message seemed a bit terse, and, for another, your cell phone is going directly into voicemail."
She yanked out her phone and saw it had switched off, probably during one of its many falls.
"Sorry. I've been knocking it off all day. I must have accidentally hit the on/off button."
"So, again I ask. What's wrong?"
She sighed. "I guess I didn't get enough sleep. I'm slightly off today."
"Is that all?"
"I think so."
"Okay. I want you to go home early and get some rest."
"No, Rob. I'm fine. I don't want to leave Krista with everything. She's done enough. I've spent all morning answering calls, taking messages, and scheduling meetings, so she's been carrying me all week."
"And you consider that a problem?"
"Yes, of course I do. I need to start picking up my share of the work."
"Call Krista over."
"What? No."
"That was not a request, Pam."
"Fine." Pam stood and motioned to Krista then pointed to the phone.
Krista nodded and held up a finger indicating she needed a moment, and she'd be right over.
Sitting down again, Pam said, "She'll be over shortly."
"Good. Put me on speaker when she arrives."
"Your wish is my command, oh great master."
"Watch it," he warned softly.
"Sorry. In the meantime, what do you want me to tell the dress shop?"
"Tell them to send the clothes to your place. They won't fit me, so I can't use them."
She snorted at the image of Rob in a skirt and blouse. "Think they'll even listen to me?"
"I had some words with their management, so they should, but let me know if they give you any hassle, and they will definitely do as you ask after I speak with them again."
Krista came over, so Pam put the phone on speaker.
"Krista's here."
"Good afternoon, Krista. Pam told me she thinks you've been responsible for the lion's share of heavy lifting in the office by needing to do her job in addition to your own."
"What?" Krista promptly shook her head. "No. I mean, I helped schedule some meetings and answered a few calls when you had her locked up with you on Tuesday. But she's been doing most of her own work since then."
"Thank you, Krista. Pam?"
Pam rolled her eyes. "He wants me to leave early because he thinks I'm overtired."
"You look tired," Krista commented, suddenly concerned. "Are you ill?"
"Is she pale?" Rob asked.
"A little. She has circles under her eyes."
Pam covered her face with her hands. "I'm fine. Besides, I still need to work up the Koppler file."
"Why? What's going on with Koppler?" Krista asked.
Pam opened her mouth, but Rob answered for her.
"I think they may be involved in the Hemley fiasco, so I asked Pam to glance through the indicators to see if anything popped out."
"I can do it, although I think Adam would like to be included if you suspect there's foul play afoot."
"Good point. I'll ask Adam to—"
"No, Rob! You asked me to do this. Please don't keep taking things away from me as if I'm incompetent."
No one said anything as a moment of uncomfortable silence stretched into an ominous pause.
"Krista, thank you for offering to help, but Pam and I need to talk—alone."
"Yes, sir." Krista mouthed, "Sorry." Then, with a wave, she returned to her desk.
"Pam, pick up, please."
Pam recognized that tone and winced. Perhaps she was overly tired, but she didn't like feeling so useless. She picked up the receiver. "I'm here."
"Good. Get out your journal, put this line on hold, and use the phone in my office, but make sure the door is shut first."
Pam groaned. This wasn't going to be good. She didn't need to ask which journal he meant this time as she grabbed the one for infractions, went into his office, closed the door and reconnected the call from his desk. "Got it."
"Do you know what you did wrong?"
"Other than snapping at you?"
"That's only one of several things, but we'll start there. First of all, what is your job?"
"To assist you."
"How?"
Pam rolled her eyes. "By doing what you ask."
"That's the second time you've rolled your eyes at me this morning, young lady. I can hear the disrespect in your voice."
"Sorry."
He let another long moment drag out before he said, "So, tell me what's supposed to happen if my requests change in the course of doing business."
"That's not fair. I ought to be an asset, not a liability."
"All right. Why do you think I consider you a liability?"
"You don't. I view myself that way when you decide to send me home for naps or declare that the most important thing I can do is get my hair done."
"If that's how I determine you should spend your time, do you regard it as your job to question my authority?"
"It's not your authority I'm questioning, but you are under the impression that purchasing a new wardrobe is as vital as working in the office."
"So, you are doubting my decision making. Do you think image is unimportant?"
"No. I understand your reasoning, but hardly anyone ever comes up here, so what's the rush?"
"You've worked for me less than a week, Pam. I think it's hasty for you to judge what happens in the executive suite in so short a time."
"I've been with the company for six months, sir, and you aren't the only executive I've supported during that time," she countered.
"True. Did you notice any visitors then?"
"Some. Not a lot, but a few."
"Were any of them coming to visit me?"
"Yes," she answered softly.
"Then my concerns are valid, are they not?"
She clamped her teeth together then blurted, "I may not be as fashionable or trendy as you like, but I'm not a slob."
A long pause. "I never said you were," he replied simply.
"But you think it!" Her tone bordered on shrill as she fought to keep her tears at bay.
A sigh. "This conversation isn't getting us anywhere. You're clearly upset, and nothing I say over the phone is going to change your mind. Since you respond to authority, I'm going to stop skirting the issue and charge it head on. You do not determine how you spend your time. I do. If I say you're to stand in the corner and twiddle your thumbs for the entire day—that is what you will do. And, I expect you to do so without complaint. If I tell you to go home and rest, that is where you will go. No discussion, no argument. You will get into bed and remain there until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?" His tone was firm and uncompromising.
Tears slid down her cheeks, despite her effort to hold them back. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Let's go through your other infractions, and discuss those."
At the end, she had ten things to add to her list. Several of them related back to her mental image of herself as being incompetent, useless, and undeserving of respect. The others had to do with her mindset and the sass she'd been dishing out to Rob. He didn't bother to include punishments for any of them, but she was certain those would follow eventually.
Unfortunately, the exercise did little to improve her mood and much to worsen it. By the time he'd listed her eighth failure to abide by his rules, the tears fell heavily, though she tried to disguise them in her voice.
His tone remained patient and stern throughout, never wavering in its calm deliberation and blunt appraisal of her attitude. She hadn't meant to anger or upset him, but this was another exercise she considered a waste of time. However, she knew better than to give voice to that opinion.
When they were close to finishing, Pam let out a soft sob and immediately apologized for it. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being childish, but—"
"Pam, stop right there. If this process were easy, we wouldn't be doing it correctly. I'm not saying these things to upset you or make you think you're inferior in any way. I'm saying them so you will eventually be able to understand and recognize when you start to fall into destructive habits. You're ripping yourself apart, and for no good reason. I'm here to help you learn how to stop hurting yourself in that way. You can cry if you need to, kitten. I don't mind. I wish I could be there to hold you, but since I can't, I'll listen."
"I don't think I can do this," she admitted, grabbing for a facial tissue from his desk. "It hurts too much."
He sighed. "You're doing fine. You may not enjoy the way you feel at the moment, but the very fact you find this painful is a good sign. It means you're recognizing the damage your thoughts and actions are causing yourself and others."
Bending forward over her knees, she tried to choke back the wail she wanted so badly to release. The pain of restraint clawed at her chest and neck.
"Let it out, Pam. Don't try to muffle your emotion. Go ahead and scream if you want."
Pam laid the receiver down on the desk, crumpled to the floor, and let everything out. When her sobs lessened, she heard a knock at the door and scrambled back in the chair to pick Rob's phone up. "Someone's at the door," she whispered.
"They can wait. Things any better now?"
"Not really," she said with a wry chuckle. "Just soggier."
"I realize how hard this is for you, kitten, but you're handling it as well as can be expected."
She laughed. "If this is handling it well, I'd hate to see what you view as handling it poorly."
"In truth, there'd be nothing to see. You wouldn't be accepting responsibility at all. This exercise would simply be a game for you."
"Some game."
"Think you're up to answering the door?"
"Sure." Covering the mouthpiece, she called, "Come in."
Jerry Robbins, Rob's PR/marketing director opened the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Krista said you were probably talking to Rob, and—Are you okay, Pam?"
She nodded. "It's Jerry. I'm going to let him talk to you while I go freshen up."
"That's fine, but I want to continue our conversation after I'm through with Jerry, all right?"
"Yes, sir." Pam handed the receiver over, walked into Rob's bathroom, and shut the door.
She could hear the quietly mumbled words while she washed her face but didn't try to listen. When she was done, she sat on the toilet seat and waited for Jerry to finish.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. "I'm done, Pam. Rob asked for you again."
"Thanks. I'll be right out."
"Okay. I'm going back to my desk. I'll close the door again."
"Thanks." At the sound of the door shutting, Pam stepped out and picked up the phone.
"So, did I totally weird him out?"
"He was worried something happened, like a dea
th in the family."
Pam's stomach sank. "Is that why he wanted to speak with you?"
"No. That was business. I don't think he realized anything was wrong until he saw you. Feeling better?"
"Yeah, I guess. I'm still a little drained but not quite so depressed."
"Good. I'm calling Paul. That gives you one hour to finish up then Krista will take over and you're going home. That's my final word on this, Miss Weston. No discussion."
"I'm too tired to argue. Anything else?" she asked, wishing she could be stronger and less emotionally fragile.
"Yes. Turn your cell phone back on, and keep it with you."
"Will do. I apologize for losing my cool earlier."
"An apology is neither warranted nor desired. I regret I couldn't be there, but I'm not sorry it happened."
"I feel so—"
"Stop it. You're doing exactly what I want and expect. So let it go."
"Already did that. So, what else I can burden you with before I say good-bye?"
"Care to rephrase that?"
She closed her eyes. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sound so snarky."
"I know. I miss you, too. But it won't be much longer. I'll call you later."
She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Bye."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
With only an hour left to accomplish everything she needed to get done, Pam made a list. First, she called the dress shop and requested they deliver the clothes to her apartment. The woman who answered the phone sounded a little uncertain, but took down Pam's information and promised to send them right over. Next, she replied to emails, ordered refreshments for the meetings she'd scheduled, and did whatever else she could to complete her work, but in the back of her mind, she knew the Koppler profile would take much longer than the time Rob had allotted her to finish up. He hadn't ordered her to hand the file over, though she suspected he would be furious if he discovered what she intended, but she refused to palm off one more thing on her co-worker. After she'd slipped the folder into her computer case, Pam left a note for Krista, who was away from her desk, then walked to the elevators.
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