Adrienne threw her a knowing look, then schooled her features as she picked up the phone. “Hi, Harper. Yes, she’s with me. My bad, I wanted to talk to her after the staff meeting and lost track of time.” Adrienne shot Jenny a wink.
Jenny clapped a hand over her mouth to stop her laugh escaping.
“Yes, I’ll send her up now.” Adrienne put the phone down.
“You didn’t have to lie like—”
Adrienne held up a hand. “No harm in doing so. Now, at the risk of sounding like I’m telling you what to do, here’s what you’re going to do.”
Jenny rolled her eyes.
Adrienne smiled. “Stay calm. Listen to what she says without any arguing, even if you don’t like what you’re hearing. You’re always better off with a job, even if it’s not the perfect one. So, don’t do or say anything to jeopardize any chance you have of staying on, at least in the short-term.” She stopped, her cheeks red. “Good God, I sound like your mother.”
Jenny’s throat closed, and she had to swallow a couple of times before responding. “No, you don’t. You sound like someone who cares, and I appreciate it.”
Adrienne’s eyes went wide. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. It was a figure of speech and—”
“It’s okay, don’t worry.” Jenny stood and straightened her shoulders. “Okay, I’m going to see what Harper has to say.” She paused. “Thank you. For everything. And I don’t just mean today.”
Adrienne pushed away from the desk and motioned Jenny toward the door. “You’ve got this. I have every faith in you.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll be gone by the time you come back down, so I’ll catch up with you in the morning, okay? But call me later if there’s anything you want to talk through.”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Jenny left Adrienne’s office trying to believe her own words.
Chapter 2
“How are you?” Adrienne asked as Jenny walked into her office Friday morning, Adrienne’s usual coffee and her breakfast bag of a croissant and a fruit cup clutched in her hands. “You look tired.”
Jenny knew Adrienne was being polite. She looked like shit. “Yeah, I didn’t sleep so well last night.”
“What did Harper say?” Adrienne motioned Jenny to take a seat.
Thankful to rest her weary body, Jenny slumped into the visitor’s chair. She placed the coffee and breakfast bag on Adrienne’s desk. “The meeting was all right. I mean, she basically told me what you’d already said. My job’s been put on the ‘at risk’ list and this morning I meet my new boss and find out more about what’s going to happen.” She willed her stomach to stop acting like a gymnastic event at the Olympics, but it was hard. Her nerves were literally eating her up about what would happen. “I mean, it’s great they’ve organized that meeting so quickly, but I feel like a zombie. I’m so not ready to go play nice with the new people.” She huffed out a long breath. “This all just totally sucks.”
“It does indeed.” Adrienne tilted her head. “Have you eaten anything?”
“No, I’m too nervous.”
They stared at each other for a moment.
“I should get going, the meeting’s in a few minutes.” Jenny stood. Her head pounded from her lack of sleep, and painkillers were a necessity to survive what the morning had to offer.
“Come see me afterwards?”
“I will.” She huffed out a long breath and headed back to her cubicle. After locating the bottle of painkillers in her desk drawer, she downed two.
“Jenny, are you ready?”
Maxwell’s voice made her jump in her seat and clutch her head at the unwelcome movement. “Please, for the love of everything good in this world, stop creeping up on me, Maxwell!”
“Are you sick?” he asked.
“Kind of.”
“I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to shout.”
He shrugged. “You didn’t. Are you ready?”
“No, but we need to do it anyway.”
He turned away and walked toward the stairs to the next floor where the meeting rooms were situated. She trotted to catch up with him, and that didn’t help matters with her thumping head.
Maxwell entered the meeting room ahead of her. Once he’d moved out of the way, Jenny checked out who waited for them. The guy at the head of the table had to be what’s-his-name, the new production team manager she’d now report to. It would be so good if she could remember his name some time very soon. Harper had told her, but in the shock of all that she’d heard, Jenny had completely forgotten it.
On the opposite side of the table sat two immaculately presented women. They both looked a little older than Jenny. One was all blonde hair, dazzling smile, and way too much makeup, wearing a bright-red blouse. The other woman, dressed in a dark-brown blazer over a creamy silk top, was serious, her posture rigid. Her neatly cut brown hair curved around her neck, and her hazel eyes stared intently at Jenny and Maxwell.
“Derek Flanigan,” the new manager said as he stood, unwittingly saving Jenny from the embarrassment of having to ask him his name. His handshake was firm, and his face revealed nothing. He was pretty short with a belly trying to tell him his shirts were a size too small. He clearly wasn’t listening.
Averting her eyes from the mass of flesh threatening to escape the straining buttons, Jenny returned his handshake with equal firmness. “Jenny Quinn.” She inwardly winced at the slight wobble in her voice.
Maxwell briefly shook Derek’s hand and introduced himself.
Derek motioned for them to take a seat. “First, introductions.” He gestured to the two women.
“Hi, I’m Christine Gillard, but you can call me Chrissy!” The blonde spoke loudly, far too loudly for Jenny’s poor head.
She wasn’t sure she’d covered her wince successfully, if the frown on the other, more serious woman’s face was anything to go by.
Then the serious one spoke. “Olivia Sinclair.” Much to Jenny’s surprise, the woman’s accent was British.
“Do you go by
