by EJ Whitmer
“Find a hottie?” I asked before I thought better of it.
At this point, she did glance up at me and beamed in response. “I think so! His name is Duncan! He just moved here from the east coast. He has the sexiest mustache.” Mae’s eyes lit up as she raised her eyebrows suggestively.
Mustaches are not my thing. They remind me of Ron Jeremy; not someone I want to imagine dating my sweet friend. I suppressed my shudder and forced an encouraging smile at Mae. “That’s great! Just remember to be careful.”
“Of course, of course,” Mae replied distractedly. “He’s harmless. Sixty-seven. Widowed. Retired. And he owns a boat!”
My smile turned more genuine as I regarded the joy in Mae’s smile. She really did deserve a nice guy in her life. “That’s wonderful, Mae. I hope he’s as great as he seems.”
Mae stuffed her phone in the pocket of her cardigan and grinned at me. “Me too,” she sighed before narrowing her eyes. “Are you alright, dear? You seem … tense.”
“I’m fine,” I replied, chewing on my bottom lip. “I’m just a bit sore. I went a little too hard in my workout this morning and I’m already feeling it.”
“Oh no!” Mae cried. “I’ll go get you some ibuprofen and water. You just sit tight!” She was out the door before I could reply.
Thirty minutes later, I was tempted to call Figaro’s veterinarian to see if he would prescribe me some horse tranquilizers. The ibuprofen Mae had given me hadn’t touched the pain radiating throughout my upper half. Thank Baby Jesus it hadn’t been legs day. Nothing is worse than attempting to sit down on the toilet when your thighs feel like they have acid flowing through their veins.
I had just handed off the approved layouts when my computer chirped. Eric Blake was attempting to Skype me. I quickly reached up to fix my hair and immediately pulled away, hissing in pain. I gritted my teeth and cursed Gia as I clicked to accept the call. Blake’s face immediately appeared on my screen. I could have sworn he already had an eyebrow quirked in suspicion.
“Good morning, Jennings.”
I smiled politely back. “Good morning, Blake. How was your flight?”
“Good, thank you. Why are you hunched over like that?”
I rolled my eyes at his concerned gaze. “I’m just a bit sore. I had a rough workout this morning.”
The corner of Blake’s mouth twitched. “Today was strength training, right? Did you overdo it that much?”
I bit back a groan and glared at his twitching mouth. “Apparently so.”
Blake’s grin forced its way through. “You only overdo your workouts when your competitive streak hulks out. I thought I was your only workout competitor. Who was on the receiving end this morning?”
I gaped at him. “You can read my mind through a video conference?!”
Blake shook his head in exasperation. “No, Anna, I can’t. I just know you. So who was it? I’m a little hurt that I’ve been replaced so quickly!”
I sighed and rested my chain against the desk. “Gia. Emmett’s substitute assistant.”
“The smokin’ hot blonde?”
My gaze shot up to the computer screen. “Who told you that? Did Emmett say that?”
Blake burst into laughter. “Easy tiger. And I thought Vance was the one with the jealousy issues!”
I narrowed my eyes and glared. “I’m not jealous. I just get weird vibes from her. And I swear she was purposely trying to out-lift me this morning. But seriously, did Emmett say that?”
Blake helped himself to an Anna Jennings eye roll. “No, Vance didn’t say that. I met her briefly yesterday as I was dropping off some reports. She’s blonde. She’s attractive. I knew it would get a rise out of you.”
My shoulders slumped in relief for a millisecond before tensing up again. “You think she’s attractive?” Why does it matter, Anna? Blake’s a big boy. He can think a woman is attractive. He and his wife are separated. He can date whoever he wants.
“Anna, I’m not blind,” Blake replied dryly. “I’m also not having this discussion with you right now.”
I took a calming breath and tried to bury the hurt from his mini reprimand. “You’re right. What can I help you with today?”
Blake nodded his acceptance. “Nothing, really. I’m on break and wanted to check in. How are things going?”
My brow involuntarily furrowed. “Fine. Things are just fine. Blake, are you checking in on me for professional reasons or are you just making sure I’m not ‘snooping’?” I attempted to add in my own finger quotes and groaned as my arms screamed in protest.
Blake bit down on his lower lip as he struggled to hold back his smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can’t I check in on my employees?”
I didn’t dignify that with a response.
“Well then, if you say things are going fine, then that’s wonderful. I’ll let you get back to work.” Blake ended the call before I had a chance to respond, which was probably a good thing. I wasn’t certain my verbal filter was functioning at that point.
By the time the noon hour finally arrived, I felt like a petrified stump. My arms were stuck in an outright position with my fingers hovering over my keyboard. Even shifting my right hand to operate the mouse was a struggle of epic proportions. I was thirsty, exhausted, way beyond fussy, and contemplating chewing my arms off when a soft knock sounded at my door. “Come in!” I groaned.
The door cracked open slightly before a woman’s butt pushed it the rest of the way. Lilith Hines entered my office ass-first, her arms filled with white paper bags, a drink carrier and what appeared to be a potted English Ivy plant.
“Hello, Anna!” she smiled warmly as she shuffled to my desk and plopped her cargo down.
Lilith is Vance Publishing’s VP of Human Resources. Until our most recent superhero showdown, we had only crossed paths a few times. Perhaps it was nearly dying together, but we’ve become much closer since then. Lilith is a few inches shorter than me, about thirty pounds slimmer and keeps her salt and pepper hair in a short, spikey cut. She’s never seen without a corsage or boutonniere and her office is filled to overflowing with all sorts of bizarre plants. I thought the plant thing was extremely weird until I learned she was part of the super team and possessed plant manipulation powers. Okay, honestly, I still think the plant thing is extremely weird. I just see the practicality now.
“Hello, Lilith. What brings you to the 28th floor?” I smiled and closed my eyes to inhale the delicious smells permeating the air in my office.
“I brought you lunch,” Lilith replied as she began pulling out containers of food from the paper bags. “A little birdie told me you were a bit under the weather today and might benefit from some warm food and warm company.”
Okay, Eric Blake could be annoying as all get out, but occasionally – OCCASIONALLY – he could be pretty darn amazing. I struggled to not moan as Lilith opened the lid to a container of pad thai.
“You’re an angel. Thank you. But …”
“Don’t worry,” Lilith interrupted. “I’ll make sure to tell Mr. Blake that you were fine on your own and only accepted my lunch offer because you felt obligated.”
I shot her a full on grin. “Are you sure you’re not the one who reads minds?”
Lilith chuckled and pushed several containers of food in front of me, placing a fork in each dish. “I’m sure, and I’m glad I’m not. I’d probably rather not listen to the things people have going on in their brains. People can be vicious with their outspoken words. Can you imagine what horrible things they don’t say?”
“Good point,” I conceded before attempting to reach the closest container. Every inch my arms moved was like swimming a mile in liquid magma. My eyes immediately began to swell with tears. I can deal with pain. I cannot deal with things prohibiting me from enjoying my food. I bit my lip hard, struggling against the agony.
“Oh good Lord,” Lilith grumbled before scooting the potted ivy closer to me and tapping one of the leaves with her index finger.
/> The plant immediately began to rustle its leaves as if awakening from a deep sleep. Slowly, one of the vines inched its way out of the pot and crept toward my pad thai. I fought my natural instinct to launch my body in front of my precious food and watched as the vine coiled itself around the fork, twirled some noodles around the prongs and slowly brought the bite to my mouth. I stared wide-eyed at Lilith while I carefully opened my mouth and allowed the vine to feed me. As soon as my teeth plucked the morsel of food from the fork, the vine returned to the pad thai container to twirl on more noodles.
“This is so unbelievably creepy,” I mumbled around my mouthful of food.
Lilith smiled proudly as she picked the vegetables out of her own dish. “It may be outside of your comfort zone, but at least you’re not crying over the loss of your beloved lunch.”
I snagged another bite from the fork the ivy was offering before replying. “I wasn’t crying. I just get a bit emotional about my food sometimes. Now quit it. Less talky, more eaty.”
It’s amazing how much I can accomplish when I have a creepy plant acting as extra appendages. I was able to shoot off emails, engage in some girl talk with Lilith and eat all at the same time. Unfortunately, Lilith couldn’t leave her handy helper with me. Apparently her “organic material manipulation” only works when she’s in close proximity to the plants and she said she’d strangle me if forced to work next to me for more than a couple hours. I tried to be offended by that, but figured she was probably right.
6
I spent the next few hours fluctuating between whimpering with my head on my desk and attempting to edit photos without moving anything above the wrist. Thankfully, Mae continued to pump me full of water and ibuprofen while she delivered anything I might need to actually reach for. By the time five o'clock came around, I had officially held my bladder for nine hours and was considering calling my mother to help me wipe.
With an exaggerated groan, I stood and made my way to the restroom. Thank goodness we have single-stalled bathrooms. Had there been anyone in the same room, they'd have thought I was giving birth to a sumo wrestler what with all of the hissing and cursing I was spewing.
With my business finally taken care of, I hobbled back to my office. I was about thirty feet from my door when the unmistakable sound of "Feel Like Making Love" by Bad Company blasted from my office. The few cubicles located in my vicinity erupted with snickers as I ignored the pain in my upper half and raced to silence my phone. Thank goodness my phone was on top of the desk. There was no way I could dig through my purse without using some seriously inventive swear words. I glanced at the screen and resisted the urge to throw the whole damn thing against the wall.
"Hello, Blake," I grumbled.
"Hello, Anna," he replied easily. "Why are you out of breath?"
"I was down the hall when my phone rang. I had to race back to silence it before the entire floor burst into a flash mob."
"Ah, let me guess: Your brother got ahold of your phone again? Could it be worse than "Big Butts" a few weeks ago?"
I attempted to raise my hand to rub away the stress in my temples and squeaked at the pain. "Someday I'll learn to keep my phone on my person at all times. Now, what do you need from me?"
"I have an odd request. Would you please head to my office and take a few pictures for me? Try to get it from every angle. We're doing a … uh … exercise ... here at the leadership conference and we need to evaluate one another's work spaces."
"Am I supposed to believe that?" I asked, while slowly heading to Blake's office. "Had I not been recently spoon fed by a possessed piece of foliage, I'd say that's the strangest thing I've heard all day."
"I'd be shocked by that statement if I hadn't been given the Heimlich once by a grapevine at a management vineyard retreat. Anyway, yes, you're supposed to believe that. Just leave it alone, please. And send me the pictures as soon as possible. Oh, and please close the door on your way out."
"Okay, okay," I relented. "Give me a sec."
Lucky for Mr. Blake, the sky had clouded over during the day. He had claimed one of the coveted corner offices and floor to ceiling windows made up two of his walls, meaning it would have been next to impossible to snap a good picture on a sunny day. I took a couple pictures of each wall and added in a selfie just because. Blake responded almost immediately, thanking me for taking the pictures, warning me to stop thinking about snooping and informing me that my hair looked like I'd stuck my fingers in an electric socket. I carefully reached up to feel my head and sure enough, it felt like the drain in my shower on the first leg-shaving day of spring.
I headed back to my office in search of a either a hair tie or a baseball cap. After ten minutes of combing my office, I came up empty handed. I could have sworn I'd had a hair band the other day. I thought I'd put it on my wrist … Oh! It hit me. I had flung my hair tie at Emmett the day before. Our cleaning crew wasn't exactly known for their vacuuming skills, so there was hope the hair tie was still in Emmett's office.
I made my way across my floor, nodding goodnight at the staff members who were heading home. One smartass intern attempted to fist-bump me and laughed when I scowled back. Apparently I hadn't been nearly as quiet as I thought in the restroom. Luckily, I didn't have to worry about dodging any fist-bumps or high-fives on Emmett's floor. I'd have been lucky if a single accountant looked up from their Excel files to acknowledge my presence. I rounded the corner to Emmett's office and skidded to a halt. His office door was wide open and his lights were on. He wasn't home already, was he? I slowly crept toward his office and peaked inside. Gia, my new arch nemesis, sat behind Emmett's desk, rifling through his drawers.
"Ahem," I cleared my throat from the doorway, causing Gia to jump and send a pile of paperclips flying.
She put a hand to her heart and attempted to calm her breathing before she spoke. "Anna! You scared the bajeezus out of me!"
"I'm sorry," I replied. I totally wasn't. "What are you doing, Gia?"
Gia quickly closed Emmett's desk drawer and stood, using her hands to straighten the wrinkles in her pencil skirt. "I was just dropping off Mr. Vance's messages and grabbing a file to fax. Are you here to see him? I figured he told you he was away at a conference."
I quirked a suspicious eyebrow and sauntered into the room. "A fax, eh? Do people still fax?"
Gia's body stiffened as she narrowed her eyes. "Apparently they do."
"Hmmm … Alright, then. Yes, I knew Emmett would be gone. I came to see if I had left a hair tie in his office."
"Oh, yes. I can see why you'd need one," Gia replied sweetly as she glanced pointedly at my hair. "I have one in my purse. Would you like to borrow it?"
I ground my teeth in annoyance and nodded. "That would be great. Thank you."
The tension was overpowering as I waited awkwardly for Gia to retrieve a hair tie from her purse. After quickly thanking her, I headed back up to my own floor, intent on calling Emmett to inform him of the snoop. However, once I made it back to my desk, my phone was nowhere to be found.
Why does everything have to be missing when my arms are exploding in pain? Why can't the stupid phone be sitting at waist level on my desk where I wouldn't have to strain to reach it?
I spent the next few moments retracing my steps before remembering I had used my phone in Eric Blake's office. Sighing in relief, I headed that way.
Sure enough, when I walked into Blake’s office, my phone was sitting on the corner of his desk. Wasting no time, I snatched it up, plopped down behind his desk and shot out a quick text to Emmett.
*Just caught your new assistant rifling through your drawers. More than slightly suspicious. Want me to investigate?*
Emmett replied almost immediately.
*Chill out, Nancy Drew. I asked her to fax me a file. Call you later. NO INVESTIGATING.*
I slouched in my seat and silently fumed for a moment. While a small portion of my brain recognized that I do tend to be a bit nosy, the majority of my thoughts swirled around being
angry that Emmett and Blake treated me like a pre-teen. As I sulked, I glanced around Blake’s office, noting the décor and the few framed photos he kept on his desk and bookshelves. Apart from a photo of him and my brother Michael on a ski trip, and an old wedding photo of his parents’, the photos were all of Sophia, Blake’s four-year-old daughter.
I picked up a small framed photo that must have been taken recently and smiled at the beautiful little girl. Her hair was nearly black, just like her father’s, and a deep dimple graced one of her chubby cheeks as she grinned into the camera lens. She not only resembled Blake in appearance, but in super powers as well. I learned the hard way to keep my thoughts rated 'G' around Sophia Blake after she learned a few inventive curses from listening in on my brain.
I was just setting the photo back on Blake’s desk when a whiff of unfamiliar cologne crossed my nose. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I cautiously peered around the office. I slowly twirled around in Blake’s chair, checking to make sure there wasn’t a crazed, psycho clown about to strangle me with a balloon poodle. Finding the coast clear, I spun back around and shrieked at the half-naked man standing in front of the desk. A half-naked man who was definitely not there two seconds before.
