HIS STRIPPER, HIS WIFE novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Bianca

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I showed up the next morning at eight fifty-five, five minutes early, because I was told to act like a professional and professionals did not show up late to their first day of a role they did not ask for.

His office door was open but I knocked anyway.

“Come in.” He said with the same flat voice with no warmth. I was starting to think the man ran on a setting that most people reserved for tax season.

I stepped inside and he was already at his desk, jacket on, a stack of documents arranged in front of him like he had been there since dawn, which, knowing what little I knew about him, he probably had.

He did not look up immediately, which gave me approximately four seconds to remind my body that this was a place of work, that he was my employer, and that the fact that the room carried that same scent from two nights ago was completely irrelevant information that I did not need to be cataloguing.

My body disagreed and kept cataloguing.

“Miss Fernandes.” He looked up.

“Good morning.” I said.

He reached across the desk and held out a card. I crossed the room, took it from him, and looked down at it.

It was his schedule for the whole day, broken into blocks. Eight fifty five arrivals confirmed, nine thirty calls with the board, eleven o’clock site review briefing, one PM lunch which was blocked off with no name attached, two thirty legal, four PM

open.

I stood there reading it and he sat there watching me read it and neither of us said anything for a stretch of time that was not technically long but felt like it had its own weather system.

“That’s all. Miss Fernandes,” he said, and looked back down at his documents.

I nodded, turned, and walked out, pulling the door behind me carefully. I stood outside it for one second, looked at the card in my hand, and then walked back to my desk.

I sat down. “He doesn’t need me for anything,” I said quietly looking at the card. “His assistant has it under control, I’ve been handed a schedule, that’s the job, wonderful, very exciting new role.”

By the time I looked up. Amanda was watching me from across the office with the expression of someone at a tennis match so I quickly turned back to my screen before she comes with her funny questions.

By nine fifteen I was convinced the day was going to be fine. By ten, I had reconsidered.

It started with the board call running over, which pushed the site review briefing, which meant I had to pull three separate documents from two different departments and reformat a presentation summary in twenty minutes because the original version had a typo in the CEO’s name, which, apparently, was the kind of thing that caused actual adults to panic.

Then legal called ahead of their two thirty to say they needed an addendum reviewed before the meeting, which meant tracking down the company’s external counsel, who was on another call, whose assistant was also on a call, and I spent eleven minutes being transferred between people before I found the right document myself in the shared drive and emailed it directly

Then someone from procurement decided that today of all days was the right time to send forty pages of vendor contracts that needed cross-referencing.

11:53 Wed, Jul 22

Chapter 12

滥

55 vouchers

I was going in and out of his office more times than I had planned, dropping documents, confirming times, and relaying messages. Each time I went in, I knocked, he acknowledged, we exchanged exactly the number of words necessary and nothing more. It was efficient, it was professional and I was fine.

At some point in the early afternoon, I dropped off a revised briefing document and turned to leave.

“Miss Fernandes.”

I stopped. Turned back.

He was reading the document, he did not look up. “I appreciate your stamina today,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said, in a voice that I felt was admirably steady.

He still did not look up..

I walked back to my desk, sat down, and picked up a pen just to give my hands something to hold. “Stamina? that came out too easy for him, did he really mean the actual stamina or…”

Amanda appeared beside my desk. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You’ve been clicking that pen for three minutes.”

“Amanda, I’m fine.” I put the pen down.

An hour later, somewhere around the time I was cross referencing the procurement documents and silently questioning every career decision I had ever made, he walked past my desk on his way back from somewhere and paused.

“The Mercer file,” he said, without fully stopping. Pull the October records when you get a chance.”

“Of course.” I said.

He was already halfway across the floor. Then, without turning around, “You’re efficient, Miss Fernandes. I’ll give you that.”

He walked into his office and closed the door.

I stared at the closed door for a moment.

“Give me that,” I repeated quietly. “Is he trying to mess with me?” I pulled up the Mercer file.

By four thirty the pace had slowed enough for me to actually breathe. I had finished the procurement cross-reference, confirmed his morning schedule for tomorrow, and eaten exactly half a sandwich at my desk because lunch had not technically happened.

I was leaning back in my chair, looking at the ceiling, doing a quiet mental review of the day and whether it had broken me, when my phone buzzed on the desk.

I picked it up, it was Fred. “I need you in the club tonight.” I stared at the message

At first, I thought it was best not to reply but considering the fact that he helped me just some days ago, I knew I just had to.

“I can’t tonight, will let you know when.” I sent it before I could think about it too hard, which was probably the problem.

I was putting my phone back in my bag when I heard his office door open. I looked up. He was standing in the doorway with his jacket in his hand, looking across the floor with that flat, unhurried gaze of his.

His eyes found my desk.

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11:53 Wed, Jul 22 T

Chapter 12

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