Chapter 8

One National Plaza. The thirty-seven story glass monstrosity that housed Lexical’s offices. With polished concrete floors, and giant plastic elephant ear and monstera plants in Corten steel containers, the atrium lobby had about as much charm as a parking garage, and the guards at the desk must have had their good humor surgically removed at birth.

I found Mia sitting alone on one of the stiff, angular couches opposite the reception desk, with a book bag in her lap. She’d been blowing up my phone all morning with text messages, asking where I was and when I’d be there. She rose when I approached.

“They wouldn’t let me in without a badge,” she said. “I got here on time, I swear. You can ask the guards. I walked in at exactly eight forty-two.”

“Relax. I believe you.”

She looked a little more put together than she had the night before. A bit of makeup and her short hair parted asymmetrically, held in place by a pair of barrettes. She wore black pants made from some kind of stretchy poly-blend that did her inordinately large ass no favors, a pair of soft, black non-slip shoes, and a navy blue button down in desperate need of an iron. The only thing missing from her outfit was a bow tie and a little tray of hors d’oeuvres.

“What?” she asked, looking down at herself.

“When does your shift at Applebee’s start?” Her face fell. “I told you to wear something professional.”

“But, this is professional. I wear this at my other job.”

“What’s your other job? Catering?”

She pulled up short. “How did you...?”

I sighed and checked my watch. “Forget it. We’ll sort this out at lunch. Let’s go.”

A freshly printed visitor’s badge had her through the turnstiles and into the elevator with me. They’d issued the badge in her real name, because the humorless guards required all visitors to show ID. No exceptions. I’d have to figure out a way to get her a badge in Alexis’ name.

“Take that off and put it away,” I said as we rode to the twelfth floor.

Mia unclipped the badge from her shirt and dropped it into the scuffed, brown leather satchel with tarnished brass buckles she held.

“What’s in there anyway?” I asked.

“Lunch.”

“And?”

“The badge.”

Lexical’s offices. It was quiet this morning. Even quieter than usual. Friday’s could be like that sometimes. Lexical had a flextime policy that allowed the rank and file to work from home one day a week. You could tell who had little rugrats at home and who didn’t. Many of the young singles stayed home for an early start to the weekend. Moms and dads were always in the office. We passed by Serena’s empty cubicle on the way to my office. Young and single.

“Grab a seat,” I said as I eased into my Herman Miller Eames and logged on to my laptop. Mia sat at a small table I used for one on ones and other private meetings. As I browsed emails, she fidgeted with her bag and surveyed the office. Then she got up to peek through the vertical blinds.

“Oh wow. Great view.” Sunlight brightened the office as she pulled on the chain to open the blinds. I glanced over my shoulder as Mia shuffled her feet back and put her hands and forehead against the glass to look down onto the street below. “Everyone looks so tiny!”

I returned to my inbox and saw an email from Desdemona Harrington. She needed to push our meeting back another hour, to eight o’clock. By the time I got home tonight, Alexis would probably already be in bed. Wendy too. And Astrid would almost certainly be at a bar or club with her friends.

It was shaping up to be a lonely evening for me. I confirmed the new time.

“Hey! Those guys over there are waving at me!”

I turned to look. Across the street, my cheering squad had gathered in their conference room, phones already coming out. Mia’s grin was visible from the back of her head, and she waved enthusiastically to the assembled crowd of mostly young men. They all waved back and started high fiving each other.

My gaze drifted to Mia’s odd posture. She still had her feet back, and one hand on the glass. Almost the exact same pose Serena had held when I’d fucked her the other day. In fact, I could still see Serena’s delicate handprints, and the oily spots where she’d pressed her large forehead and cheek against the glass.

Mia’s large ass was pushed back toward me, and I noticed a visible panty line against the stretchy black material of her pants. For an instant, I imagined myself behind her while the crowd of onlookers cheered me on. I shook my head.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Mia backed away from the glass when I stood to draw the blinds closed, much to the disappointment of my audience.

“You’re not here to play games. We’ve got work to do,” I said in a brusque tone to cover my indecent thoughts.

Mia nodded solemnly. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Grab a chair and come around over here,” I said as I resumed my seat. When she was posted up beside me, I asked, “Have you ever used a computer before?”

She scoffed. “Yeah, of course.”

“I mean in a professional setting. Do you know how to use G Suite? Slack? Jira? Salesforce? Excel?”

“Oh. No. I know how to use LibreOffice though.”

I sighed. “You know how to use Gmail, right?”

Her face lit up. “Oh yeah. Sure!”

“Great. This is my inbox and this is my calendar. Familiarize yourself with both while I work on something else.”

“You got it, boss.”

While Mia browsed through my various inboxes, I pulled out my phone and dialed Gabriel Escobedo in tech support. “Gabe, it’s Ryan.”

“Hey! Morning. What’s up?”

“Come to my office, please.”

There was a long pause before he responded. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Just hurry up.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s just, we have a meeting in, like, five minutes...”

“Thank you,” I said, and disconnected the call. Then I dialed Lindsay Pisano in HR.

“This is Lindsay.”

“Hey, it’s Ryan.”

“Who? Oh, Ryan! Hi there. How can I help you?”

“I need to onboard a new employee.”

“Sure thing. All you need to do is log in to our payroll portal and...”

“I don’t have time for that. Would you please set her up for me?”

“I mean, it’s pretty easy. You just log in and go to the new hire tab...”

“Great. Do you have time right now?”

A sharp, frustrated breath tickled my eardrum. “Fine. Hold on a second. Full time or contract?”

“Contract. Short term.”

“Is this a company, or are we talking W2?”

“W2.”

“Name?”

“Alexis Whittaker.”

“Whittaker? As in...”

“She’s my daughter.”

“Really? Aw, that’s so sweet!”

“Come in!” I shouted when a knock came at my door. Gabe entered and I held up a finger, then waved him over and pointed to the chair across from me. “Yeah,” I said to Lindsay, “like father like daughter. What else do you need?”

“She needs to fill out a W9 and an IC contract. Is she over eighteen?”

“Seventeen. Don’t worry about that, though. I’m co-signing.”

“Great, you already anticipated my next comment. What role should I put down for her?”

While I spoke to Lindsay, Gabe leaned over my desk and extended his hand to Mia. “Hi, I’m Gabe,” he whispered. I noticed the way his eyes slipped over her body.

“Mia,” she said with a smile, taking his hand. I kicked her foot under the desk and glared at her. She recovered quickly. “Me, uh, name is Alexis.”

“Executive assistant,” I said to Lindsay.

Lindsay giggled as she typed. “That is so precious,” she said under her breath. “Remittance cycle?”

“Standard W2. Fifteenth and end of the month. Direct deposit. Expense it to my executive budget, okay?”

She laughed. “It’s like you’re reading my mind. No problemo. Rate?”

“Let me think.” I watched Mia as she browsed through my calendar. “Twenty-five an hour. Actually, make it thirty.”

Mia’s eyes came up and her jaw dropped. “Thirty?” she mouthed, then she pumped her arm and hissed, “Yes!”

“Wow. Very generous,” Lindsay said. “Okay. I think that’s all I need for now. I’ll ping IT so they can set her up with a login and get her system access.”

“Gabe’s sitting in my office right now,” I said, winking at him, and I noticed the tension in his shoulders ease.

“Well, you certainly don’t waste any time,” Lindsay said with a chuckle. “Tell him that she should be in our payroll system now. Want me to send the W9 and contract to your email?”

“Perfect. Thank you, Lindsay.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Gabe, thanks for coming,” I said when I’d disconnected the call. “This is my daughter, Alexis.”