I only sing in the comfy security of my shower. I’m not only submitting them to my terrible intonation, but my example probably has no relevance to their anti-smoking campaign.
I quickly cut my performance short and shrug. “I don’t remember all the ways the song listed, but there was one about poking a grizzly bear with a stick and another about taking your helmet off in outer space. It’s a song that a metro company used, I don’t recall where. Maybe in Australia?”
Devon claps his hands. “I know this video. You watch all these adorable cartoon characters dying in the dumbest of ways, and then you get to the moral of the story, which is that the dumbest possible way to die is by slipping at the edge of a train platform or crossing over a train track.”
“I know it too.” Anna nods. “It isn’t a bad inspiration for us. It shows that you can reach people when you do the unexpected.” Her eyes move to the ceiling. “I wonder how we could do that with the placement itself. Cigarette packages are old. But so are TV commercials and posters…”
I draw in a sharp breath because an idea is coming to me.
A hint of a smile appears on Devon’s lower lip. “I can see you’ve just had a stroke of genius, right?”
Can he read my face that well?
I nod. “Something popped into my mind, but I doubt it’s genius.”
Devon tilts his head, his eyes locking with mine. “Laia, why don’t you give it a go?”
“Really?” I ask.
“Sure.” Devon grins.
I can’t possibly say my suggestion aloud. They’ll hate it.
As if Devon senses my hesitation, he leans close and lowers his voice. “Laia, I know you didn’t originally want this job. But maybe it’s just what you need. If you took Fu’s position, your opinion wouldn’t be asked in meetings like this. But I promised you that, as my assistant, you’ll try your wings at many things. So why not take this chance? Don’t be afraid. Say what you want. Nobody will judge or belittle you. I promise.”
His baritone stirs my stomach.
I’m not used to people taking a chance on me. Fine, I’ll just tell them what I think. I wanted to be more extroverted, and this is an excellent chance to practice this skill.
If things go wrong, at least I’m already used to people laughing at me.
I let my gaze travel to the other participants. They, too, seem interested in knowing what I think. Even Rick blinks expectantly, which blue-pencils his previous hostility in my mind.
I return to Devon’s blue eyes and nod. “Okay, but please don’t laugh.”
“Nobody is going to laugh,” Anna assures me.
“Just say it. I’m sure it’s good,” Devon encourages me.
His kind words give me the final push I need, and I draw in a breath to tell them my idea.
Chapter 12
(Devon)
After the pre-con meeting is over, Laia gathers up Rick’s horrendous photos.
“Where can I put these designs?” she asks.
“Straight to the bin,” Rick answers before I can chime in.
“The bin?” Laia’s forehead wrinkles with confusion. “But it’s your work, Rick.”
“I might have taken these pictures, but I can accept when my creation is deemed unfit.” Rick flashes a theatrical, I’m misunderstood, grimace at Laia.
Rick’s overly dramatic nature never bothered me before. I can usually attribute his preposterous gestures to being an artist and, all in all, a decent one.
Even if his zombie plan is a slip-up.
But today, his whole demeanor is getting on my nerves. Why is he still hanging out here? The rest of the team has already returned to their own spaces, whereas he seems eager to continue the conversation with Laia. Rick’s interest in Laia bugs me.
My assistant has a lot to learn about the company, my work methods, and everything. She needs a clear and focused head for that. And mingling with Rick could be a distraction.
I stand up and fetch the posters from Laia’s hands. “I’ll sort these out. Rick.” I give him a somber stare. “I think you should join the others and start brainstorming which visuals could best support Laia’s idea. But, please, leave the living dead out this time.”
Rick adjusts his glasses and sniffs. “Sure, Devon. You’re the boss.”
His voice is slightly offended, but I couldn’t care less. His primary responsibility is to deliver good campaigns for our clients, and during this meeting he failed to do that.
When Rick is gone, Laia peers up at me. “Are you sure you want to give my idea a try? Like seriously?”
“Why not? It’s great.” To be honest, Laia’s suggestion isn’t just great. It’s terrific. “How did you come up with it?” I ask.
Laia shrugs. “You know I’m a bookworm, but so is my mom…though, she prefers thrillers, which I don’t like. Anyway, I thought, if your ad tapped into the pool of people who like to read, across all genres, that would represent a huge chunk of the smoking market you plan to target.”
I give her an appreciative smile. “You thought well. We can slip specifically designed pages toward the end of books, in both paperback and e-copies, which will increase our reach even further. Did you think of a slogan yet?”
A shy glint invades her eyes. “As a matter of fact, I did.”
Of course, she did. If this girl isn’t a wunderkind…
“Let me hear it.”
Laia holds out a hand. “May I write on the back of one of the posters?”
I hand her one of Rick’s creations, and our fingers brush against each other. A pleasant glow spreads on my palm from her touch. She really has delicate, soft skin.
Laia flips the poster around, then grabs a pen from the table. She draws a large rectangle, which she divides into two parts. After adding a few refining elements, I recognize the image of an open book.
“Here”—she points to the left page in her illustration—“we should have an exciting chapter ending, somewhere in the second half of the book. So that readers are chewing their nails to discover what happens at the end. Then here”—she drifts her finger to the other page—“would be our message…” She writes something, then pushes the poster to me.
I lift it and read out loud. “If you smoke, your story might end 15% before it should. Quit now.” I chuckle. “This is good. Still a bit rough around the edges, but it’s an excellent start.
“Really?” Laia’s mouth shifts into a full-teeth smile.
I can’t help but notice that this display of sheer joy fits her. The yellow dots in her irises dance and her cheekbones are put in evidence.
“Of course. Let’s go back upstairs. I’ll show you how you can log the details of the meeting and your slogan idea into our system so all team members can access it.”
“I’m sure Katja can do that, too. I don’t want to slow down your day.”
“Nonsense. I’ve got a free hour, and it’s best if you learn it from me so you can always cater to my taste.” I wink.
“To your taste?” Laia jerks back, and her voice jumps an octave.
“Yes. I mean that you can satisfy my needs. I’m your boss, after all.” I smile.
Laia’s face pales. “Which particular needs?”
What is it with her? It seems like my words make her jittery. Maybe she’s still overwhelmed by the fact that I put her on the spot during our meeting.
“You know what?” I clasp the posters underneath my armpit. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s move to my office.”
I touch Laia’s back to signal that we should move. Her hair feels as soft as I thought it would.
My sister used to have a porcelain doll with similarly silky hair. Laia’s petite figure, suggestive eyes, and slender waist remind me of that toy. And so does her aura. There’s something sweet and wholesome about my assistant, as if she belonged to the world of fables.
Luckily, Laia moves forward before my mind can elaborate on this entirely fruitless topic.
I make us take the stairs, partially
because I want to stretch my legs, but also because I’d like to avoid standing in a confined space with Laia. Last time it happened, her scent had an odd effect on me, and I don’t want that again.
Once in my office, we settle on the fluffy black sofa that is part of my office’s casual sitting area. Even though the rest of this room is the most traditionally laid-out space in our whole building, I’ve asked the designer to create this mellow corner where I can conduct agreeable talks with my clients.
It’s my conviction that having a large table between me and my conversation partner sets a tense tone—precisely the opposite of what I like to have in my business relationships. Or even with my employees.
Over the years, I’ve used this sofa on more occasions than I can count. And at six feet of length, it never came across as cramped to me.
Until today.
Does Laia’s rigid posture, as if she’s afraid our bodies might brush against each other, make me think the sofa is too narrow? Or is it the way her body twitches whenever I bend closer to access her laptop?
“You see, this is the database you’ll need to use,” I explain, pointing at her screen. “All meetings need to be logged in here.”
“Very well. I’ll finish typing up my notes and save them.” She nods, shifting her weight forward and slightly away from me.
My office door slams open.
The abrupt sound makes Laia flinch and turn her head to the door.
I, on the other hand, don’t need to move to know who’s walking in. There’s only one person who can bypass Katja’s impenetrable-guard routine.
Ellie’s chipper voice fills the room before her heart-shaped face and bouncy curls appear. “Dev, sorry for the interruption.” She treads forward in her sneakers without the slightest sign that she would regret disturbing me.
I straighten from the sofa and amble to her. When she’s close enough, she throws her arms around my neck and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Katja said you’d be free to talk.”
“Of course Katja would say that,” I grumble. “For some reason, my secretary can’t resist your charm. It must be those round eyes of yours. She can’t see the mischief in them like I do.”
Ellie sticks out her tongue, then giggles. “Well, good to know at least Katja is on my side. That snooty, blond assistant of yours always made me schedule an appointment. I’m truly relieved you let her go. Maybe now that you don’t have a PA, I can finally visit you more often. Whenever I have lunch breaks, perhaps?”
There’s a faint rustling behind my back, which tells me Laia must have stood up.
My sister really can’t put a lock on her cheeky tongue. Why did she have to label Hayley as uptight in front of Laia? Now Laia might assume that I berate my employees behind their backs. Which is not true. Even if Hayley had a haughty air, I’ve never complained about her to my sister.
Except, of course, for that night when—
“Devon, would you mind introducing me?” Laia says.
I point at Laia, who shifts her weight from one foot to the other, eyeing my sister.
“Ellie, I’m sorry to crush your fantasy about blowing in here like a cyclone every time you feel like. In the future, you’ll need to book an appointment with Laia…my new assistant.”
Laia stands stiff and holds out her hand to Ellie. “I’m Laia Flores. Nice to meet you.”
Her voice is less musical than I’m used to hearing from her.
Ellie gives Laia quick head-to-toe, then the corners of her mouth turn up. “Very nice, Devon, finally a normal person. Not some stick-legged mannequin.”
She grabs Laia’s hand and shakes it enthusiastically. “I’m Eloise Griffin, but you can call me Ellie. Everybody does.”
Laia’s eyes widen and her posture relaxes. “You’re Devon’s—”
“Sister, yes.” Ellie nods. “Sorry for my mean comment about your predecessor. That chick might have been a bombshell, but she was interested in everything, except doing her job.” She shakes her head to underline her disapproval.
“So, Ellie, to what do I owe the pleasure today? You stormed in like you had something crucial to discuss,” I prompt.
There’s a slight annoyance in my voice that surprises me.
I don’t know if my irritation comes from the fact that Ellie made me leave my cozy couch, or my sister’s comment suggesting I surround myself with top models.
It’s not true that all my previous assistants were hotties.
My first PA was a man, in fact. And Hayley? I didn’t even pick her myself.
I glance at Laia’s olive skin and dark hair, and I can’t help but feel grateful that I took the time that day to interview my candidates personally. Otherwise, my gem of an assistant would be writing ad copies, and I’d be stuck with one of the girlfriend-wannabees.
“You bet I have,” Ellie bobs her head, and her short bangs get all tousled from her movement. She quickly smooths them with a hand. “I need to schedule my holidays for this summer at work. Are you up for a long weekend trip to Mexico in June? I wanted to go there with Cora and Hope. You can even invite Pete if he promises he won’t hit on my friends.”
“June when? I’m not sure, sis.”
“Dev…” Ellie wiggles her finger at me. “You need some rest, just like the rest of us.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that. Wyatt called me. He might drop by during the summer, but he wasn’t sure when…so unless I can also bring him along—”
“Absolutely not. Mr. Super Quarterback isn’t invited,” Ellie snaps.
“Well, technically, you’ve known Wyatt as long as you’ve known Pete. So if you consider Pete a pal…”
Ellie rolls her eyes, which are a similar shade to mine, only with a hint of green. “Exactly because I know Wyatt, I have the good sense of not being his friend.”
Ellie’s pocket beeps before she can continue badmouthing. She pulls out her pager and hisses. “Oh, shoot…I need to run back to work, sorry. I thought my new patient wouldn’t arrive till later in the afternoon, but he flew in early. Stephanie will kill me if I make a client wait. The pregnancy hormones are making her an even meaner boss than she normally is.”
“No problem.” I shrug, secretly happy that I don’t have to discuss Wyatt with my sister. It was stupid of me to bring him up at all.
Ellie pats Laia on her shoulder as if they’re old girlfriends, and she didn’t meet her only a second ago. “It was lovely to meet you, Laia. Whenever you want, I can give you a full-fledged user manual to this weird brother of mine.”
Strangely enough, Laia doesn’t wince under my sister’s touch like she does each time I approach her. Instead, she meets my sister’s gaze with a bright smile. “Yes, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
Ellie gives me a kiss on my cheek. “See you soon, Dev.”
Her head snaps to my desk just as she pulls back from me.
“Oh, no! Ellie, don’t. Not again.” I’m not quick enough.
My sister is already at my table, fumbling and shifting everything around until all of my objects stand in ninety-degree angles to each other, and my pencil holder is placed in the exact geometrical middle line of my desk—a fact that Ellie assures by measuring the distance from both sides twice with her thumb and index finger.
When she’s done with her creation, she takes a step back, nods with a satisfied grin, then turns. Just as quickly as she rushed in, she disappears with a loud, “Bye!”
Laia throws me a curious glance when the door closes. “Your sister is super nice. But very energetic, isn’t she? And she likes order.”
I give out a bemused snort. “That she is. Ellie has an unflagging vitality. She’s always been like that. I suspect she has a tick of OCD, too, but don’t tell her I said that. She would strangle me before admitting she has control issues or that she’s a pathologic neat freak. Especially since she works in a behavioral clinic, counseling others about how to be the best version of themselves. Anyway…” I smile because I want Laia to see that I love my sist
er despite her quirky nature. “Ellie is great. Sometimes her grit is annoying, like when I didn’t have enough sleep. But most of the time, her vivacity is a blessing. There were times in my life where her high spirits kept me literally afloat.”
Yes, I couldn’t have made it through those years of constant sickness or my breakup with Morgan with my mental health intact, if I hadn’t had my sister’s support.
I don’t understand why I had to share this nugget with Laia. It’s none of her business that I had dark periods in my past.
Laia tilts her head, a weird glint filling her eyes. It’s a mix of disbelief and sympathy.
Is she sorry for whatever hardship she imagines I might have endured?
I hate anyone pitying me. I’ve had my share of commiseration for a lifetime.
But Laia clears her throat and surprises me. “It’s important to have your family’s support. Especially when life gives you a curveball. I have a sister and a brother. Plus my cousin, who is practically a sister. A pretty big safety net to fall back on. And this knowledge has helped me face some nasty blows, too.”
Our glances meet, and Laia gives me a warm smile that assures me she means what she’s just told me.
It seems I’ll have to learn to interpret Laia’s expressions better. She wasn’t feeling sorry for me. She was showing empathy. This discovery makes the awkwardness I felt about slipping something personal evaporate.
Laia pivots to the sofa. “I’ll get my laptop and finish my notes at my desk.” She fetches her computer then glances up at me. “Once I’m done with the file, what can I do for you?”
“When you’re ready, just go home. It’s been a long second day for you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Laia walks to the door. Before exiting, she turns to me.
“Thank you, Devon. For taking a chance with me…you know during the meeting. I appreciate it.”
I smile. “No thanks are necessary. You’re a superb addition to our team. Don’t forget, we start our morning tomorrow with an external client meeting. So dress nice, just like these past two days.”
Law #2: Don't Play with a Player: A Sweet Office Romance Story (Laws of Love) Page 10
