“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I pop my head up to look at his round, ruddy face.
“I said, make sure that you do.” He stalks from the room.
My body deflates, and I sink back into the chair, wondering how long I’ll have to put up with this man.
Sighing, I fire up the next web training module and hit play. This particular video focuses on proper work etiquette.
It’s common-sense material—or should be—so my mind wanders to things it has no business wandering to.
Strong jaw, straight nose, cheekbones chiseled from stone, muscles flexing under my touch, tongue caressing mine... memories permanently etched into my mind.
Charles Cavendish.
Lucky for me, my stomach chooses that moment to growl, and for once, I appreciate the distraction.
It’s just after eleven, and I haven’t yet been told when I can take a lunch break. People have been coming and going since the meeting, but I figure I can’t just walk off on my first day.
Thankfully, I’m smart enough to have thought ahead and brought food. I pull out the sandwich and stuff it into my mouth. I’m eating it so quickly that I hope nobody sees me. I’m unsure of the protocol here. Can we eat at our desk? Is there a cafeteria?
Worse than not knowing what’s allowed, I definitely don’t want to scare anyone off on the first day with my less than proper food shoveling.
As I’m just about to swallow my last bite, and I’m wiping crumbs off my shirt, Shelby and Charles—no, Mr. Cavendish—walk by. Neither spares me a look, and for that, I’m grateful.
They stop just past my door, and I wonder if they’re aware that I can hear every single whispered word.
“Not acceptable, Shelby. She just graduated. Past internships are not enough to have prepared her for this account. I won’t have it.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Cavendish, you don’t have any other options.” Shelby’s tone is sharper than one would expect, being as though she’s addressing the CEO of the company.
“What about Liz Montoya? Or Persephone Adams?”
I bristle when it becomes obvious they’re discussing my qualifications, and he clearly finds me lacking. Is this because of my lack of experience or what occurred at Silver?
“Liz was just put on Mr. Lawson’s new accounts, and Persephone... well, let’s just say she’s a complete idiot. Incapable of following directions if her life depended on it.” She sighs. “Charlie, listen to me. Experience doesn’t always equate to talent. Raven Bennett is talented. Her references are glowing.”
Charlie? It doesn’t suit him at all, but then again, I don’t know him. Having one’s tongue down your throat does not equal familiarity.
He grunts. “Who are these glowing references?”
She begins rattling off the list of references I supplied, which is an impressive list if I do say so myself.
“All right,” he says.
“Megan Hall,” she continues. “Frank LaBlanc.”
“I said, all right,” he snaps. “You’ve made your bloody point. Let’s get this introduction over with, shall we?”
My hand darts out, swiping away every last crumb from the desk as I pull the notepad toward me. Once that’s in order, I grab the bottle of water to the side and quickly take a sip, hoping to wash down any remaining food I have in my teeth. I’m just swallowing when Shelby walks through my door with a brooding Charles Cavendish on her heels.
I straighten in my seat, trying my best to look thoroughly enraptured by the notebook containing my chicken scratch.
“Raven, I’d like to introduce you to our CEO, Charles Cavendish.”
I stand, doing my best to act as though this is the first time I’m meeting him. I extend my hand, willing it not to shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cavendish. Raven Bennett.”
His eyes narrow in on my proffered hand, and I thank God that Shelby isn’t paying him any attention and, therefore, has not noticed his icy demeanor toward me.
Eventually, the ass takes my hand in his and offers a too-firm shake. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Bennett,” he says through his teeth.