The reception office is small and clean. A young woman in her early twenties sits behind the desk. Her eyes widen when she sees Justin. I fight off the instinct to tell her to keep her hands, and eyes, off him. Instead I take his hand in mine. “Can I help—” As soon as she spots Mr. Ellis her smile brightens. “Hey Arti. Are you here to view that unit?”
“Yes, please Ronelle.”
Ronelle gets on the phone calling someone to show us the unit. Minutes later, another man shows up. He’s probably in his forties with thinning dark hair and a little round. He introduces himself as Samuel and shakes our hands. Not far behind him, an older woman steps into the reception area.
She’s tiny. Smaller than me with gray hair knotted into a bun. She’s wearing shorts and a plain blue T-shirt with sneakers. “Arti. This must be your family.”
Mr. Ellis takes her hand. “This is my grandson, Justin and his girl, Angela. They’ve known each other since they were pipsqueaks. Finally got their heads out of their asses.” A bit of an exaggeration but whatever. Mr. Ellis looks at us. “This is my good friend, June.”
We both take her hand and Justin smiles. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Samuel clears his throat. “Shall we go see that unit?”
June and Mr. Ellis follow him. Her arm hooks into the crook of his elbow. “Maybe your grandson can make some adjustments to the unit. You know Marty always used to complain how long it took for the hot water to kick in.”
“June, I told you he doesn’t actually do the work. He just comes up with big ideas then pays other people to do it for him.”
Justin smiles at his grandfather and swallows hard. “I think he’s going to be happy here.”
Chapter 12
Angela
I don’t get it. I haven’t eaten anything dodgy, in fact I haven’t eaten anything since the slice of toast I had for breakfast yesterday morning. I have no other flu symptoms. I was fine when I got to work. Then Wyatt left for a meeting and Lia brought in some donuts to share and I’ve spent the last hour bent over the toilet. I didn’t even get to enjoy the donuts. I just got a whiff of the cinnamon goodness and ran for the toilet.
When I no longer feel like dry heaving — because let’s face it, there is nothing more that can come back out — I wash my face and go back to my desk. Lia had already removed the offending donuts and just left me a cup of black coffee.
She pops her head in. “Are you okay?”
“I feel fine now.” And I really do. “I don't know what I could’ve eaten to cause such a violent reaction.”
“Who knows with stomach bugs.” She sits back down. “It could be a bad burrito you had two days ago, or something in the air. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Thanks.” I push my laptop forward and rest my forearms on the desk. “The last thing I need is to get sick right now. I’ve only been working for Wyattt for a few weeks. ”
“How’s it going by the way?” Her blonde hair is tied up in an intricate bun. I think she’s practicing for a tutorial. She doesn’t do hair tutorials, but she will give suggestions sometimes. “I can’t imagine being Wyatt’s assistant can be all that interesting.”
I smile. She’s right. Organizing the work life of an already organized person can be boring. He needs someone who can take ownership of the administration. Someone who will create their own system and not be too intimidated to do it their way. I don’t have the experience for that. Maybe with time I will, but I don’t see myself doing business admin long term.
“The more I understand what he does, and you and Justin, the more I see little spots of what I would like to do.”
Lia frowns. “What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath. I’ve haven’t given it much thought, so I’m not sure how to articulate myself. “Take Wyatt for instance. His business relies heavily on word-of-mouth. Yeah, he’s on the appropriate listings in the industry, but that’s not the core of his business. His clientele is mostly married couples in their forties and early fifties who got a recommendation from a friend.”
“I’m listening.”
“The only issue is those couples are not entirely sure what they want. They have a basic idea in their head. Like they have a picture in their head. But they don’t know the terminology, or even how to create what they want with the space they have. They need an interpreter, so to speak.”
Lia smiles. “You’re right. Do you think you could do that?”
“Oh, God no.” I shake my head. “I’ve watched how contractors' eyes glaze over whenever my mother tries to explain her next renovation project. But that’s not the point. My point is I’ve spent less than a week with Wyatt. I’ve identified his target market, and how he can improve his relationship with them.”
“I see what you mean.”
“Wyatt’s best marketing tool will be the right assistant. Someone who will stand up to him, yes. But also, someone who can sit in on meetings with his clients. Someone who can relate to them and translate for them. This person will also be better received when something can’t be done.”
A deep voice to my side startles me. “That’s fucking brilliant.” Wyatt smiles, his arms folded across his chest.
He isn’t alone though. Justin’s standing alongside him. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes fills me with warmth. And not in a sexy way. Or, not only in that way. He’s proud of me. That does something for me.
I lean back in my chair.
