work for a person I know is more concerned that an employee has a brain instead of a dick.”
“Wait. You don’t have a dick? Because that’s a deal breaker right there. I only hire testosterone-ridden, top-of-the-food-chain, genetically superior men.”
I rolled my eyes. “Liar. You wouldn’t be at the top of the tech food chain if you actually believed that.”
“No? Why’s that?”
“Because you men work, and we women get the job done.”
I joined Henry halfway through his laugh. Until I remembered how, once upon a time, I’d lived entire days and months of sharing laughs and moments like those with Henry Callahan. The pain of what had been generated a new kind of pain—the pain of what could never be again.
It was time to end that call. If something as simple as a phone call was so painful, how would I make it through all that was to come? I didn’t have an answer, but I wouldn’t rest until I found one.
“So when do you want me to start?”
“I’ll skip the blasé act because I’m desperate. Would tomorrow be too soon?”
A smile curved into place. “Tomorrow would be perfect.” The sooner I got in there and figured out how to weed out Miss Competition, the sooner I could make sure it was my bed Henry would dive into.
“Excellent. I’ll have my receptionist get the paperwork started, and you can finish the rest with her tomorrow morning.”
Not so fast. “Paperwork? Come on, Henry, you want me to fill out an encyclopedia of paperwork? I was practically Mrs. Callahan for Christ’s sake.” My goal had been to dodge the paperwork-with-the-competition bullet, not bring up our prior almost-nuptials. I didn’t know who was more thrown, me or him. Judging by the continued silence, we were pretty even.
“Even if you did become Mrs. Callahan, you would still be required to fill out paperwork if you wanted to sharpen pencils here. Company policy,” Henry replied, but his voice was quiet. Removed.
I gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But if I have to be single-handedly responsible for killing a tree, I’m not trudging through it with some over-smiley, sweater-set wearing receptionist. If you want me on board, you’re suffering through it with me, Chief Executive Officer.”
Was I bluffing? Sure. Most of my job entailed bluffing of some sort. If Henry said he didn’t have the time, desire, or energy to walk me through mind-numbing stacks of paperwork, I wouldn’t have walked away from the job. It meant too much to the outcome of the Errand. However, Henry didn’t know that.
A second went by, then another.
“You drive a hard bargain, Eve, but I need you.” He’ll need more than my nine-to-five skills when I’m through with him. “We’ll suffer through a murdered tree of paperwork together. I’ve got meetings in the morning, but how about you meet me for lunch and we’ll get after it?”
All of the pieces were falling into position. A smile moved into place. “Okay. Let’s get after it.”
After agreeing on a time and a place, Henry said he had to hop onto a conference call. “Thanks, Eve. I’m thrilled to have you on board.”
I couldn’t manage a simple you’re welcome because Henry’s words bled with sincerity, and even though mine should, I knew they wouldn’t. I should have felt more than welcome to do what I was going to do to Henry after everything he’d put me through. Every piece of me accepted that.
But my damn heart called bullshit.
HENRY HAD SUGGESTED a hole-in-the-wall Irish pub for lunch, which was surprising and yet not surprising. He was one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the country. Holding a business lunch at a place that specialized in bangers and mash and pints of beer didn’t exactly equate. But he was still Henry Callahan, the unpretentious, liked-what-he-liked-and-not-because-it-was-popular man.
I made sure I wasn’t the first to arrive. That was another insider trick we Eves had, and more women could benefit from learning, in
“Wait. You don’t have a dick? Because that’s a deal breaker right there. I only hire testosterone-ridden, top-of-the-food-chain, genetically superior men.”
I rolled my eyes. “Liar. You wouldn’t be at the top of the tech food chain if you actually believed that.”
“No? Why’s that?”
“Because you men work, and we women get the job done.”
I joined Henry halfway through his laugh. Until I remembered how, once upon a time, I’d lived entire days and months of sharing laughs and moments like those with Henry Callahan. The pain of what had been generated a new kind of pain—the pain of what could never be again.
It was time to end that call. If something as simple as a phone call was so painful, how would I make it through all that was to come? I didn’t have an answer, but I wouldn’t rest until I found one.
“So when do you want me to start?”
“I’ll skip the blasé act because I’m desperate. Would tomorrow be too soon?”
A smile curved into place. “Tomorrow would be perfect.” The sooner I got in there and figured out how to weed out Miss Competition, the sooner I could make sure it was my bed Henry would dive into.
“Excellent. I’ll have my receptionist get the paperwork started, and you can finish the rest with her tomorrow morning.”
Not so fast. “Paperwork? Come on, Henry, you want me to fill out an encyclopedia of paperwork? I was practically Mrs. Callahan for Christ’s sake.” My goal had been to dodge the paperwork-with-the-competition bullet, not bring up our prior almost-nuptials. I didn’t know who was more thrown, me or him. Judging by the continued silence, we were pretty even.
“Even if you did become Mrs. Callahan, you would still be required to fill out paperwork if you wanted to sharpen pencils here. Company policy,” Henry replied, but his voice was quiet. Removed.
I gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But if I have to be single-handedly responsible for killing a tree, I’m not trudging through it with some over-smiley, sweater-set wearing receptionist. If you want me on board, you’re suffering through it with me, Chief Executive Officer.”
Was I bluffing? Sure. Most of my job entailed bluffing of some sort. If Henry said he didn’t have the time, desire, or energy to walk me through mind-numbing stacks of paperwork, I wouldn’t have walked away from the job. It meant too much to the outcome of the Errand. However, Henry didn’t know that.
A second went by, then another.
“You drive a hard bargain, Eve, but I need you.” He’ll need more than my nine-to-five skills when I’m through with him. “We’ll suffer through a murdered tree of paperwork together. I’ve got meetings in the morning, but how about you meet me for lunch and we’ll get after it?”
All of the pieces were falling into position. A smile moved into place. “Okay. Let’s get after it.”
After agreeing on a time and a place, Henry said he had to hop onto a conference call. “Thanks, Eve. I’m thrilled to have you on board.”
I couldn’t manage a simple you’re welcome because Henry’s words bled with sincerity, and even though mine should, I knew they wouldn’t. I should have felt more than welcome to do what I was going to do to Henry after everything he’d put me through. Every piece of me accepted that.
But my damn heart called bullshit.
HENRY HAD SUGGESTED a hole-in-the-wall Irish pub for lunch, which was surprising and yet not surprising. He was one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the country. Holding a business lunch at a place that specialized in bangers and mash and pints of beer didn’t exactly equate. But he was still Henry Callahan, the unpretentious, liked-what-he-liked-and-not-because-it-was-popular man.
I made sure I wasn’t the first to arrive. That was another insider trick we Eves had, and more women could benefit from learning, in
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