Wanted by My Three Bosses novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Three Chairs at One Desk

Day one: Gray touches her collar, Josiah feeds her, and Anson says nothing until the floor empties and he tells her to close the door.

By noon on my first day I had learned four things about the three men I worked for.

Anson answered every email in under two lines.

Gray talked to everyone he passed, from the vice presidents to the man who emptied the bins.

Josiah closed his door when he was thinking and left it open when he wanted to be interrupted.

And all three of them watched my desk, in turns, without ever seeming to look.

At twelve-thirty Gray came out of his office and stopped beside me.

"Your lanyard's twisted," he said.

"I know. It's been twisted since Meredith gave it to me."

"Hold still."

He put two fingers under the strap at the side of my neck.

His knuckles brushed my collarbone as he turned it flat.

It took one second, and it was nothing, and I felt it all the way down my arm.

"There," he said, and did not move his hand away right away.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He looked at the strap and not at me. "You've got a very small neck."

"That's a strange thing to say to your assistant."

"I'm a strange boss."

He went back to his office whistling.

Josiah appeared at two, with a paper bag.

"You didn't go to lunch," he said.

"I've been busy."

"Anson told me to stop watching you, so I'm not watching you. I'm only handing you a sandwich."

I opened the bag.

It was turkey on rye, cut diagonally, and still warm.

"How did you know I hadn't eaten?" I asked.

"The receptionist told me you've been in the building since half past eight and had a coffee at nine." He pushed his glasses up. "She tells me everything. She's afraid of Anson."

"Is everybody?"

"Most people."

"Are you?"

"No," Josiah said. "But I'm a coward about other things."

I did not know what that meant.

I ate the sandwich, and it was the best thing I had eaten in a week.

Anson said nothing to me all day.

He sent me four emails, and each was a single line.

Reschedule the nine a.m. to Thursday.

Client deck by five.

Coffee, please.

Thank you.

The last one arrived at six-oh-two, and I read it three times.

I did not know why.

At seven the floor emptied.

Meredith stopped at my desk with her coat over her arm.

"You've done wonderfully," she said. "Go home. Nobody expects you to stay after your first day."

"I want to finish the deck."

"Of course you do." She pressed my shoulder. "I'm in at six. Call me if you need me."

The elevator closed on her, and the floor went quiet.

Gray went by at seven-fifteen with his jacket slung on one shoulder.

"Don't let him work you to death," he said, and nodded at Anson's door. "Good night, Daphne."

It was the first time any of them had used my first name.

I liked it more than I should have.

Josiah left at seven-thirty and left his tablet on my desk, with a note on top: Page 14. The numbers in the second table are wrong. You'll see it.

I saw it.

By eight o'clock I had fixed it, formatted the deck, and sent it to Anson with a one-line message, because that was how he wrote.

Done. Corrected the second table on page 14.

His door opened.

I had not heard him move.

He stood in it with his sleeves rolled to the elbow and his tie loosened, and the lights from the city behind him made his shoulders look larger.

His forearms were bare.

I looked at them for longer than I meant to.

"You found the error on page fourteen," Anson said.

"Josiah did. I only fixed it."

"He doesn't find errors for other people."

"Maybe he likes me."

"Maybe he does." Anson walked toward my desk, slowly, until he stopped a pace away. "You stayed late on your first day."

"I wanted to prove I could."

"You already proved that."

"When?"

"In the lobby," he said. "At ten o'clock."

He was too close to be talking about work.

He was close enough that I could smell soap and, under it, something warm that was only him.

I had been a quiet girl in a small town my whole life, and I had never once wanted someone to touch me while he was still talking.

My mouth was dry.

"Mr. Pryde," I said.

"Anson."

"Anson. Is there something else you need tonight?"

He looked at me for a long moment, and his eyes were very grey, and very steady, and not at all cold.

"Yes," he said. "Come into my office, Daphne."

He turned.

I stood.

And at the door he put a hand on the frame, and said, without looking back, "Close the door."

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