“Fuck,” I groaned. “What time is it?”
“Mr. March? It’s just after two,” the secretary replied. “Your phone has been ringing nonstop.”
I blinked and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I couldn’t recall it immediately to mind but somehow, I knew that I’d been dreaming of June.
“Thanks,” I muttered. I hauled myself into a sitting position, still rubbing my eyes with my fists. Outside, the sky was dark and gloomy. Despite my nap, I still felt tired.
The secretary pranced out of my office, leaving the door open behind her. I growled as I stood up and stretched. I need a shave, I thought as I rubbed my fingers over my chin and jaw. My hands were greeted with prickly hairs that somehow felt coarser than they had twenty years before.
I walked over to my desk, expecting to see a flood of notes from Keith. But oddly, there was nothing. When I checked my messages, they were all spam. I frowned. Still, it was only ten past two. Keith wasn’t exactly known for being punctual. I decided to give him ten more minutes, then call over to his office to make sure he hadn’t forgot about our meeting.
I opened my email and sent off a few quick replies. There was an email from Marlene asking if we could meet for dinner, but the thought of that made my stomach curdle. I sent her a short, terse reply and five seconds later, she’d already replied.
“Don’t u think it would be for the best if Brett had both of his parents together?”
Ugh. Slamming my laptop shut, I strode into the hall.
“Hey Susie,” I said, leaning over the head secretary’s desk. “Did a Keith Carner call here for me?”
“Keith?” Susie wrinkled her face. “I don’t think so, Mr. March. Do you want me to place an outgoing call?”
Strange. We just made these damn plans and he already forgot.
I rolled my eyes. “No, thanks,” I said. “I’ll be in my office. If Keith – or anyone from Carner Enterprises – shows up, please show them in.”
“Got it,” Susie said. She bent her head over her desk and scratched at her scalp with long fingernails. Flakes of dandruff scattered across her keyboard and I tried hard not to shudder. Susie had been working for me for years – hell, she’d probably been working since I was in diapers. She was a repulsive elderly woman, but she knew what she was doing.
“Hey, how’s the hunt for my new assistant coming?” I turned back and cocked my head to the side.
Susie frowned. “Do the same…restrictions still apply?”
I laughed. “No,” I said. “They don’t.”
Susie’s frown melted and she gave me a tentative smile. “Very good, Mr. March. I hope to have someone for you by the end of the week.”
“Excellent. You’re the best. Thanks, Susie.”
Her smile grew a shade wider and she dipped her head, obviously unused to compliments. Grinning, I turned on my heel and sauntered into my office, closing the door behind me. Thinking of the “restrictions” made me laugh. When I’d first placed the ad to hire Hannah, Marlene and I had been in a rocky place. I knew it would piss her off if I found someone young, gorgeous, and blonde…so I specified that all candidates had to fit those criteria before I’d even consider hiring them. But now that we were divorced – not to mention, now that I was seeing June – they seemed ridiculous.
I laughed a little under my breath, imagining June’s face when I told her. It was too soon to tell if she’d think something like that was funny. She was so insecure, I wondered if she was the jealous type. But she’d met Marlene a handful of times by now…she had to know that I couldn’t want just any hot woman around. I was old enough that personality mattered a lot more to me, almost as much as looks had mattered when I’d been in my youth.
When two-thirty rolled around and Keith still hadn’t shown up, I was starting to get a little pissed off. I picked up my phone and reclined back in my chair, kicking my legs up on the desk and crossing them at the ankle.
This time, it took several minutes for someone to answer the phone.
“Hello, this is Mr. Carner’s office. Whom may I say is calling?”
I frowned. “Yeah, this is Thomas March, over at Steel Visions. I’m calling for Keith – we had a meeting today at two and he never showed up.”
There was a long pause.
“Hold on, Mr. March,” the woman replied. “Let me go ping him.”
I sighed forcefully. “Whatever,” I mumbled.
The woman put me on hold and I cringed at the tacky Muzak rendition of “My Heart Will Go On.”
After what felt like an eternity, there was a series of blips and beeps in my ear. I frowned, then the line went dead.