Working It(3)

The conference room was down a short corridor, and inside were three women. The tallest of the trio stood and held out her hand. “Hi there. I’m Nancy Holmes from HR. This is Janice Weinstein, the manager of our support team, and Nikki Jones, the team lead. Please have a seat.”

Nolan unbuttoned his jacket and sat opposite the group. “Thank you.”

Janice picked up his résumé from the top of the stack of papers. “Your work history is very impressive, Mr. Carmichael.”

“Please, call me Nolan. And thank you.”

“Though you don’t have any assistant experience.” The smile Janice gave him didn’t reach her eyes. Oh no, that wasn’t good. “First thing I want to do is let you know about our process. We’ll give you a moment to tell us about your work history, then we’ll ask you a series of behavior-based questions. There’s no right or wrong answer with those. We simply want to get a feel for who you are as a person and if you’ll be a good fit for our team.”

He hated behavioral questions. It always came down to whether his answers were less obnoxious than everyone else’s, and he knew he could be a smart-ass at times. “Excellent. I’m looking forward to it.”

Janice glanced at her colleagues and nodded. “Please tell us a bit about your work history and why you’re making the change from corporate trainer to administrative support.”

He opened his mouth to speak, when a loud knock on the door cut him off. Nancy cringed as she stood. “Sorry. One second.”

Nolan wasn’t certain who was more surprised, him or the trio of women, when the handsome man from the bathroom walked into the room.

“Mr. Anderson.” Nancy took a step back. “We were just conducting an interview. Is there something I can help you with?”

Mr. Anderson walked passed Nancy and over to the table where they were sitting. Without looking at anyone, he took Nolan’s résumé from Janice’s grasp and read through it. While the women were silently shouting thoughts at one another about what the hell was happening—and really, they needed to work on their body language—Nolan flicked his gaze between Mr. Anderson and the door. Because there was no logical reason for this guy to burst into the interview unless he was about to call security and have Nolan removed for creepy bathroom behavior.

That might have been farfetched, but Nolan’s anxiety discarded any more innocuous explanation. His mind settled on the worst-case scenario and told him he’d been discounted before he’d even had the chance to make a bid for the position.

Shit.

After an eternity, Mr. Anderson set the résumé down and turned his laser stare on Nolan.

“Are you single?”

“Mr. Anderson, you can’t ask that—”

“Yes, I am.” Assuming the interview was over and Mr. Anderson was just asking random questions to stall for time to let security arrive, Nolan got to his feet and buttoned his jacket, ready to go along peaceably. To his surprise, Anderson’s queries turned more direct.

“Do you have any issues working long hours? Coming in on a moment’s notice? Redoing reports more than once if they don’t meet my requirements? Dealing with people I can’t be bothered to talk to?”

Nancy coughed. “Sir, are you looking for a secretary?”

“Executive assistant,” Mr. Anderson answered without looking away from Nolan.

He felt his face heat, but he refused to break eye contact. “No, I don’t have issues with any of that. Though if you need me to do a report more than twice, I would want your expectations clarified so I could make sure it wouldn’t happen again. I might not have a lot of experience as an assistant, but I was always good with paperwork in my previous job and I’m a fast learner. If I don’t know how to do something, I figure it out and master it.”

Mr. Anderson hit the side of his thigh with his open palm. “Your evaluation period is three months. I can fire you for any reason in that time.”

What? “I understand.” Liar! You don’t have a clue what’s going on here. It finally dawned on Nolan that he was not, in fact, about to be thrown out on his ear.

“Monday morning, 7 a.m. I expect you at my office.” Mr. Anderson tossed a glare at Nancy. “See that the paperwork is done.” As quickly as he arrived, Mr. Anderson was gone.

Nolan looked at the women, who were staring at him, shocked. He cleared his throat. “I know I was here, because my feet haven’t moved, but would one of you mind telling me what just happened?”

“That was Mr. Zachary Anderson.” Nancy spoke with a mix of awe and something that could have been mistaken for lust.

“I got that. But who is he?”

Janice rolled her eyes. “You’ve applied for a job at Compass and you don’t know who the senior management team is?”

“Well the CEO is Samantha Rollins, but I wasn’t familiar with the others. I wasn’t expecting to be railroaded in an interview.”

Nancy made a clicking noise. “Yeah, he does that. Mr. Anderson is the CTO. He’s in charge of all technology decisions at Compass. He’s basically the third most powerful man in the company, and the most difficult of all our executives to work with. We’d given up trying to find him an assistant after the last four either quit or he fired them.”

Nolan’s knees got a bit weak. “Oh.”

“And he’s your new boss.” She held out her hand. “Welcome to Compass, Nolan. God help you.”





Zack ignored the stares of the employees in the lobby as he strode through toward the exit. He needed to get out of the building for a few hours and get a drink or else he was going to lose his mind. Maybe it was already too late for that, given the odd way he’d been acting all day.

He’d hired himself an assistant this morning.

Again.

He hated having an assistant. Hated being micromanaged, having the need for that person to be involved in his business all the time. It was worse than when he’d lived at home and had to declare his comings and goings to his parents.

What had possessed him to follow Nolan into the interview room after their brief encounter in the men’s room, he still wasn’t sure. The nerves radiating off Nolan in the bathroom were practically visible; he was not at all the type of person Zack wanted to have to deal with on a daily basis. He didn’t have time to coddle a new hire, nor did he think the poorly dressed, almost frail-looking man would necessarily be able to handle his moods.

It was a horrible idea.

He should probably tell HR to find Nolan another executive or team to work with and save them both a world of headaches.

Yes, he’d do that when he got back.

But first he needed to see Max.

It would have made sense for him to take his car, given how far away Frantic was, but he needed to stretch his legs and taking transit worked for him. Him behind the wheel, feeling the way he was, wouldn’t end well.

He hated days when his brain seemed out of sync with his body. Thoughts banging up against one another, too many projects vying for his attention, things he desperately wanted to make happen but had to stomp the brakes on because of process. Or the worst: having to be quiet when other people thought they knew better than he did. They usually didn’t. It wasn’t all arrogance that led him to that conclusion; it was years of being proven right time and time again. But he’d learned the hard way there were certain people you couldn’t tell what to do and how to do it.

His boss being one of them.

He’d have to go to the gym after work, if for no other reason than to bleed off enough excess energy that he could sleep later. Really, it would do him a world of good to hit something.

It took him nearly forty minutes and two buses to get to Max’s bar. He didn’t need to check to see if Max would be there. It was nearly four, and his friend was always the one to open the club. The door was locked, so Zack pulled out his phone.

Let me in.

There was a minute-long pause before Max’s response popped up. Why are you here?

To bug you. Let me in.

Go back to work.

Asshole.

Zack had barely pressed Send when the door’s lock clicked and Max opened the door. “Why do you torture me?”

“Because I’m your friend and business partner.”

Max rolled his eyes and walked away. “Still an asshole.”

Frantic was currently empty, but Zack knew that in a short time staff would start arriving and prep would be underway for Friday night’s inevitable crowd. “We need to talk about Ringside.”

Max’s groan echoed in the empty dance area. “We need a drink, then.”

“Beer?”

“I’m not giving you anything good. That’s for paying customers.”

“I pay.”

“Not in the last five years you haven’t. Cheap prick.” Max pulled two bottles from beneath the bar and cracked the caps off before sliding one to Zack. “What’s going on with the gym?”

“I was going to ask you. Any word on those investors of yours?” The beer was cold and slid easily down his throat as he took several long pulls. “I need some good news today.”

Max grinned as he shook his head. “So impatient for a business guy.”

“I’m used to things happening on my timetable, not some mysterious venture capitalist who I don’t even know is worth his word.”