Pulling up my contacts, I hit favorites and find my assistant, Shelby. Her husband, Brad, will likely want to wring my neck for calling at this hour, but it can’t be helped. She’s worked just as hard as I have trying to land this deal. I know her worth, and I won’t let one minute more go without telling her the news.
“You rang?” she drawls, voice full of sleep and something similar to annoyance.
“Shelby. Darling,” I murmur, attempting to ease her ire with charm.
“Since when do you attempt flattery? Better yet... why are you even attempting? What do you want at,” there’s a beat, and then she continues, “after ten?” Her voice pitches in question.
“I’m so very sorry, love, but it couldn’t be helped. I know you’d have my balls if I didn’t call you, no matter what time it was. We landed Diosa.”
“What?” she yelps, and I hear Brad in the background asking if everything is all right. “Fine, babe. Go back to bed,” she says to him. “Why did you wait so long to call me?”
“Kennedy just called me,” I explain. “I finalize the contract tomorrow morning.”
“Charlie, this is amazing,” she shrieks.
I cringe at the nickname. She is the only person other than my mother who I’ve ever allowed to get away with calling me Charlie. After the incident that shall not be discussed, the name is tainted.
“You know I despise that name.”
“Consider it payment for calling me in the middle of the night.” I can practically see her rolling her eyes at me while she says it.
“It’s not the middle of the night, you old crone.”
She chuckles, knowing full well I’m teasing. I adore her. “And now, you’ll be bringing me coffee tomorrow at my apartment.”
“That’s not how this arrangement works, love. You’re my employee.” I pick at my fingers, waiting for her to insist that coffee is deserved for this intrusion on her off time.
We’ve done this dance many a time before.
“It’s how it works now. Unless, of course, you want to start the Diosa account without an assistant.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. Shelby Donaldson isn’t going anywhere. I pay her exceptionally well for her experience and intuition on how to run my office.
“Fine. I’ll bring your favorite black tar in the morning. Now, for the reason I called,” I say, getting us back on track. “We need to hire four more analysts. One for Diosa and three to manage Icon and AlteredX.”
She groans down the line. “We couldn’t have discussed this in the morning?”
“No,” I drawl. “I need you ready to make this happen first thing as you walk in while I’m gathering your coffee.”
“Fine. We need an account manager more than we need another analyst.” She sighs, and I know she’s right. We’re already stretched with the addition of two more restaurants owned by my friends and now clients, Drew and Bailey Lawson.
“All right, then. Make it happen.”
“The analyst starting Monday has an impressive résumé.” She blows out a breath. “She just graduated from Columbia with her MBA, but her internships and part-time work would be perfect for this account.”
“Internships? Part-time experience? That won’t cut it. This is Diosa we’re talking about. I need someone impressive. We need someone with experience.”
The line is silent, and I know that’s Shelby’s passive-aggressive way of showcasing that she doesn’t agree with my assessment but will allow me my opinion as the owner.
“Perhaps we can switch her department. Seems she would be better suited for the Diosa analyst position?” I offer to appease her.
“I’ll see what we’re working with on Monday.”
“No, tomorrow is already going to be wasted by not having the extra hands. I need her to start sooner. We’ll hold an all-staff meeting to discuss this account while you and I iron out the details. We’ve had too many struggles as of late not to do this right from the start.”
“Fine,” she snaps. “Again . . . all things we could’ve discussed in the morning.” She moans. “I’m tired. You owe me a scone now, too.”
I swear, some days . . . if she wasn’t so good at being my right-hand . . .