The Assistant: A gripping psychological thriller with a nerve-shredding ending Page 3

  “Evidently. And why is she sending it now? The launch isn’t until the end of March.” This was why she liked Brent. He could slip out of his alpha male attitude and gossip as eagerly as a girlfriend.

  “What’s new?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I just talked to you fourteen hours ago. But there is the job.”

  “Did he set up an interview?”

  “No. I don’t get what the hold-up is.”

  “Too much going on.” He folded his arms across his chest and pushed his chair back farther. His office was larger than Laura’s, easier to move around in—the physical evidence of being a director instead of a senior manager. There was space for a small table and two chairs, even though you had to shove the desk chair up against the desk to make room for three people. Not that the office was what attracted her. Not at all. “Maybe I should just ask him. I’m playing by the rules too much. He’d respect some aggressiveness, don’t you think?”

  “It won’t do any good. When he’s ready, you’ll find out.”

  “I tried picking Vanessa’s brain, but you know how she is.”

  Brent laughed. “Don’t waste your time.”

  “It pisses me off.”

  “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Easy for him to say. He had more access to Hank. There wasn’t another layer of management between Brent and Hank like there was for Laura. Although she attended Hank’s extended staff meetings, there were thirty people in the room. Those meetings were more like an audience with the pope. In addition to the smaller, direct staff meetings, Brent met one-on-one with Hank every week.

  She took a long, slow breath. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up feeling jealous. It wasn’t as if her desire for the promotion was all about getting the inside scoop that the rank-and-file employees weren’t privy to. Although that, like the larger office, was a pleasant side effect, satisfying a latent craving to be included in the inner circle, wanting to belong.

  This was the next step in her career. She’d been planning the timeline since she walked out of school for the last time with an MBA attached to her name. And she’d be awesome in that role. Brent saw it, didn’t he? “Who do you think the other candidates are?”

  He shrugged.

  “You know, don’t you?”

  “Focus on selling yourself, not on everyone else.”

  The sun was suddenly higher in the sky. Rays sliced through the blinds that Brent hadn’t angled sharply enough. Her eyes watered. The walls, the office furniture, even Brent’s long, evenly-sculpted features, wavered as if they were under water. She thought of her fish, hungry and confused. She shouldn’t have let that creep get under her skin. If she saw him again, things would be different. But she wouldn’t see him again. He was an anomaly. She’d had the track virtually to herself for three years. It wouldn’t change now. It couldn’t.

  “Don’t get sulky,” Brent said.

  “I’m not sulky.”

  “You stopped talking.”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “First, that you know the other candidates and you won’t tell me. Second, that you don’t understand why it’s important for me to know who the internal candidates are, and how many are from outside, and third, that there has to be a way to get around Vanessa. She acts as if she owns him, as if the interview schedule is a matter of national security. Simple things like asking him a question shouldn’t require an appointment.” Laura slipped her arms out of her jacket and let it fall across the back of the chair. The sun was making it too hot, but she refused to ask him to adjust the blinds. She squinted.

  “Want me to fix those? The sun’s right in your eyes.”

  “Brilliant observation.”

  He smiled. He wheeled his chair around, stood, and walked to the window. He turned the wand, tilting the blinds further toward the ceiling. “Vanessa isn’t going to change. And at the end of the day, her gatekeeping isn’t going to impact whether or not you get the job. You need to focus.”

  “I know that.”

  “Did you want me to look at your résumé again?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  His phone buzzed. He glanced at the display, but didn’t pick it up.

  “All I asked her is when will the interviewing start. Why would she refuse to answer that? Fine if she’s worried she’ll get in trouble for telling me the names of the other candidates and how many there are. But when the interviews start? Why is that a secret?”

  “Let it go.”

  She pressed her fingers against the base of her skull. She was going about this all wrong, looking too needy, handing all her power to Brent, and even Vanessa. “Maybe I should tell her what I heard about them having a thing. Then she wouldn’t act so superior.”

  “Don’t do that. You don’t even know if it’s true.”

  “I think it is true.”

  “You’re the only one who gives it any credibility.”

  “Really? You really think that?”

  “Okay. Maybe. But so what?”

  “It’s wrong.”

  “That’s between them and their spouses.”

  “She’s not married.”

  “Whatever. It’s no one’s business.”

  “But it is. That’s why she’s so territorial, and it impacts the organization.”

  “How?”

  “It makes things that should be simple, complicated.”

  “Like not getting advance notice on the interview schedule?”

  “It seems like you’re not even on my side.”

  “There aren’t any sides. I’m not sure what we’re talking about any more.”

  “You said she knows things she shouldn’t.”

  “Did I? Either way, there’s nothing you can do about it. And it doesn’t matter, it’s just politics.”

  “In this case, the politics are affecting me. I’ll do better if I can prepare for the interview. If I have an idea when it’s coming. I don’t need her calling me and telling me it’s in two hours.”

  “I doubt that will happen.”

  “It could. I’m right here. She doesn’t have to juggle schedules like she does with someone outside the company.”

  “You need to relax and concentrate on your skills and what you have to offer. You’re completely qualified, but it’s not a slam-dunk. You’re obsessing over trivia.”

  Again with the condescending attitude. Well, that would change when she was his peer. Ninety percent of the time, he treated her like the peer she’d been until a short time ago. The other ten percent, he maintained a barely perceptible wall that said he was an executive and she was not. Despite being friends, the balance of power was off.

  He was right about one thing—she was focused on details that didn’t matter. And he was her friend; she should stop worrying about who had more power. It wasn’t healthy. But what was that comment about it not being a slam-dunk? Was he her friend or not? Surely he wouldn’t express doubts about her to Hank. Her head ached, the thoughts turning solid, pressing against bone and nerves.

  After she left his office, she walked down the corridor to the back of the building. At the far end of the corridor was a window in a small alcove. She walked toward it slowly, taking long, deep breaths.

  “Hey, Laura.”

  She stopped near the doorway of Janelle’s office. Janelle curled a coral-tipped finger in her direction. “Come in for a second. My daughter’s selling Girl Scout cookies. Want some?”

  Laura stepped inside. “Sure.” Janelle’s perfume, heavy in the air and soaked into the fabric of the chairs, was cloying, but for Girl Scout cookies, she’d endure anything. She smiled. “I’ll take three thin mints and two peanut butter.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I love them.” She glanced at the photograph of Janelle’s daughter, her hair the same honey blond as her mother’s, the same eager smile. “Besides, how can I pass up helping your cute kid?”

  Janelle fiddled with the hoo
k of her earrings—gold hoops larger than her ears. For a woman so full of bravado, she turned into something else entirely when her daughter was mentioned. “Thank you,” she said.

  “No problem.” Laura wrote down her information on the order sheet. “I’ll bring the cash tomorrow.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Laura stepped into the hallway and continued toward the window. She looked out across the parking lot. The distraction of Janelle had provided a calming effect. After a few minutes, she walked back toward her office. It wouldn’t hurt to review her résumé again. Just to be sure. She couldn’t take anything for granted.

  3

  Vanessa

  VANESSA STARED AT Hank’s office door. Through the glass panel she saw the VP of Software Marketing. He sat with his legs crossed, hands clasped behind his thin neck, leaning back as far as the chair allowed. It didn’t look as though he planned to leave any time soon. Her meeting with Hank was at five and it was already five-thirty. Hank should be directing the conversation to a close, urging Sandeep out of his office.

  This was protected time, blocked on Hank’s calendar. It had been scheduled every single weekday as long as she’d worked for him. The calendar appointments continued on into the endless future. It was the one point in the day when she felt like a critical part of Hank’s staff. The time when she knew she was more important to his success than five senior product managers.

  Of course, he needed them or there wouldn’t be a business to run, but he needed her in a different way, a more urgent way, to help him function in every minor detail. Minor details that weren’t carefully looked after led to catastrophes. If she scheduled his connecting flights too tightly, he could miss one and end up sitting in the Frankfurt airport for seven hours. If she didn’t properly document his expense reports, he’d wind up wasting hours emailing explanations to accounts payable. Most important, if she didn’t control his schedule, his calendar filled with appointments that lacked a clear purpose—people fishing for praise, wanting attention, needing the vice president to notice their contributions.

  During her daily appointment with Hank she enjoyed his focused attention, his implied dedication to her. His well-concealed, consuming need for her.

  Why did Sandeep have to go on in such precise detail? He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. His elbows dug into his thighs and he rested his chin on the heel of his hand. She heard the rumble of his voice but couldn’t decipher the words. Not that she wanted to. She probably wouldn’t understand the conversation—something about software bugs. She opened her purse and pulled out a tube of lip gloss. She turned her back to Hank’s door and ran the wand over her lips.

  “What are you doing?”

  Vanessa spun her chair around.

  Laura was leaning on the counter. She nudged the candy dish away from her forearm. “Getting ready for a date?”

  Vanessa dropped the gloss into her open purse. She closed the desk drawer and turned to her computer. “What do you need?”

  Laura laughed. “So you do have a date?”

  “My lips were dry.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do you need something?”

  “I need to get a few minutes with Hank.” Laura glanced at the closed door. “It looks like he’s finishing up with Sandeep.”

  “He doesn’t have any time today.”

  “It’s the end of the day. Does he have a meeting at 5:30?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really? That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

  “He doesn’t have any time, Laura. When he’s done going through résumés and doing phone screenings for the external candidates, I’ll set up your interview.”

  “He’s interviewing external people first?” Laura plucked a chocolate kiss out of the bowl. She put the round base on her thumb and pressed her index finger gently against the pointed tip. She stared at it as if she were inspecting the quality of a diamond.

  Vanessa clicked to her open Facebook page. The angle of the screen made it impossible for anyone leaning on the counter, even Laura straining forward, to see what was displayed. She scrolled through the latest update. She clicked like on a funny quote about women’s shoes and a picture of her cousin’s Golden Lab puppy.

  Laura smiled, her eyes wide, waiting expectantly, as if Vanessa couldn’t wait to share any bit of information that might help Laura get an inside track on landing the operations job. Laura acted as if she’d never repeated the rumor about Vanessa and Hank, as if she wasn’t even aware of it. She broadened her smile as though she wasn’t hiding judgments about Vanessa dressing to seduce her boss.

  The rumor was a funny thing. One minute, Vanessa was furious at the thought of it, her neck growing hot, blood rushing to her face. In the next moment, she found a part of her liked thinking that others were aware that Hank noticed how good she looked, that he might want her, or at least wondered what it would be like to make love with her. Not that she would ever cheat on Matt. Not that she would even want a relationship with her boss. She just liked the thrill of possibility. The occasional dreams that lingered into daylight, and the daily hum in the atmosphere when she met with him in his office, the door closed, when he came out and sat on the credenza in her cubicle, so close she could feel the heat of his skin. It was exciting to think about the jokes between Hank and her, their easy conversations turning into something more.

  “Are you okay?” Laura asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Well, I asked you a question,” Laura said. Her lips were dark with chocolate.

  “I thought it was rhetorical,” Vanessa said.

  Laura raised her eyebrows. She swallowed the remains of the candy and smiled. “It wasn’t.”

  “Yes, he’s doing phone screens first.”

  “Does that mean he’s leaning in the direction of hiring from outside?”

  “I really can’t talk to you about it.”

  Laura peeled the foil off another chocolate kiss, flattened the wrapper and spread it out like a tiny blanket on the counter. She popped the kiss into her mouth, and as she chewed, plucked another out of the dish. Vanessa grabbed the loose piece of foil and tossed it into the trash can under her desk.

  “I was going to throw it away,” Laura said.

  Vanessa squinted at the computer screen.

  “I don’t see why you can’t talk about something as unimportant as a group of job applicants. I’ve done lots of phone screens—usually half of the candidates are completely unqualified. It’s not going to hurt anyone if you tell me what’s going on. I’m not asking you to give me their names.” She shook her head, tossing her hair away from her face. She balled up the remaining piece of foil. She pushed the dish away from her. “These are too tempting.”

  “When he’s ready to set up your interview, you’ll be the first to know,” Vanessa said.

  “So does he have five minutes after he’s done with Sandeep? I just need to ask him a quick question.”

  “About what?”

  “Nothing you’d understand. It’s about the offsite.”

  “What about it? I might be able to answer it.”

  “Does he have five minutes or not?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll just hang around and see what happens when Sandeep leaves.” She winked and glanced at the closed door.

  Vanessa pulled a small cherry red spiral notebook off the narrow shelf under the counter. She took a red pen from the holder and held them out to Laura. “Leave him a note and I’ll make sure he gets it.”

  Laura moved away from the counter. She folded her arms, wrapping her fingers around her biceps. “I’m not going to write him a note.” She laughed. “If that’s all I needed, I’d send him an email. I need to talk to him.”

  “You can’t talk to him today. He doesn’t like it when people hang around my desk and ambush him.”

  “How do you know what he likes?”

  “I know.”

  Laura smiled slowly. “I’m sure you do.” S
he turned. The light hit the top of her head. A fine gray hair glittered, stiff, separating itself from the others. “Tell him I stopped by.”

  “Sure.”

  Laura disappeared around the corner.

  It was dark outside. The security lights in the parking lot glowed as if there were holes cut in the sky, letting light shine through from another place. The sitting area near Hank’s door was bathed in shadows, the lights having gone out without the motion of people walking by for the past hour. Vanessa took a sip of water and tried to think where she’d made her misstep with Laura. It seemed as if Laura felt she’d scored a point, although it wasn’t clear what game they were playing.

  On the other side of Hank’s door, Sandeep sat up straight. He crossed his arms.

  Vanessa took another sip of water and glanced at her email. Nothing new. It was 5:40. Sandeep stood and continued talking. When he finally opened the door, it was ten to six.

  “You’re still here?” Sandeep said.

  “I have to go over Hank’s calendar for tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “Have a good evening.”

  She went into Hank’s office and closed the door. “Ready?” she said.

  “Yes.” He moved his chair away from his computer screen.

  They talked for a few minutes about the offsite, as she listed the tasks that still needed to be done for the organization’s two and a half days in Napa Valley. The event would be expensive, but Hank felt they needed to ensure serious focus. When planning meetings were held locally, people showed up late, ducked out for other meetings, and generally failed to put their entire heart and soul into the effort. He wanted their hearts and souls. He would never say that, but it was true. At the resort, they’d be a captive audience. Their cell coverage would be spotty among dense pine trees and rolling hills blanketed with grape vines.

  “Laura wants to know when you’re going to start interviewing,” she said.

  His cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and picked it up. “It’s Deb, just give me a minute.”

  She’d hoped gently introducing Laura’s name would be a good way to feel him out about the rumor, give her clues about whether or not to tell him. The phone call would force her to start over, killing the subtlety. Maybe she should wait. Knowledge was power. Once she told him, she’d no longer have the advantage of knowing something he didn’t.