Marco Dane sneered as he signed in that morning. Rusty was all smiles as usual. It was too early in the morning for all that cheer. He scribbled his name on the pad, tossed the pen on the counter and grabbed his caramel macchiato taking a big swig as an excuse not to have to respond to whatever positive mumbo jumbo Rusty was spewing.
He hated having to wait for the elevator almost as much as he hated having to be in the office that early, but his boss was on a mission. He hated his boss, and his boss didn’t care. His boss went through assistants like peanuts. Marco was determined to hang on.
Simon Kent was soon to be the most powerful man at HRT, next to the big boss. As long as Marco kissed his butt and praised his every breath as brilliant, Kent would take him along for the ride.
Sooner or later, someone would figure out that all of Kent’s “brilliance” came from Marco. His boss did little other than figure out ways to get rid of Ian Justyn; everything else was of no importance to him. Marco did it all and as long as he kept Kent’s ego fed, he’d be allowed to keep doing it.
The elevator slowed to a stop. Marco looked at the floor, rolled his eyes and slumped against the back wall. The last thing he wanted to do was to even have to smile at whatever miserable creature was about to walk through the door.
The doors slid open and he dared to look. He couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. “Sorry, Wella, going up…not down.” Marco started to push the button.
“Me, too, Marco.” She beamed, balanced a box and pressed the number two as she got in the elevator.
“Returning a few things to the big cheese before someone finds they’re missing?” He shouldn’t be so mean, but he loved the smell of defeat.
Wella just laughed, then had the audacity to turn and ignore him. Marco stepped up beside her.
“You’re in early.” He said wanting to make small talk, hoping to get a rise out of her.
“Nope.” Wella smiled at him and then turned back to stare at the closed door.
Marco tried to nonchalantly peer into the box Wella was holding. Kent was already calling decorators for the second floor. It wasn’t official, and Marco was supposed to be the only one who knew, but he was dying to rub it in. Sometime today the announcement would be made that he was the assistant to the future VP of the network and everyone would find out that Justyn and his team had been sent packing.
He decided on another approach. “Is there anything I can do for you, Wella? I know our bosses never got along, but let’s just let all that be between them. The best man won. No hard feelings?”
“Of course not.” Wella smiled but didn’t look at him.
“I guess your working hard to clear out the office today.” Marco decided to just put out there. There was always the possibility she didn’t know. “I’ve got pretty full schedule, but I’ll be happy to help out if I can.”
“Thanks, Marco, but other than these personal items everything else is being taken care of for us.” A smile crept across her face, and this little glimmer in the corner of her eye flickered. “I’m just gonna plop this box in my new office and then go get my hair done.”
“New office?” Okay, there was some bit of information he didn’t know. If he didn’t know it, Kent didn’t know it.
“Didn’t you hear, honey?” Wella finally turned to look at him. “The team got a promotion. We’re all moving to the second floor.”
“Promotion?” That word was harder to get out than he thought. “Second floor?”
“Uh huh.” Wella turned back to face the door.
She was enjoying this too much. Something was wrong. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but better piecing it together from Wella Johnson than have it come bellowing at ear splitting decibels from Simon Kent.
“Second floor? That’s where the VP of the network is supposed to office…” He tried to say nonchalantly.
“Uh huh.” Was all the woman would say.
Marco heard the little bell and the door came open. He stood there looking at Wella. She finally turned to him.
“Isn’t this your floor?” She asked.
“Oh…uh…yes.” He had no choice but to step out into the foyer of his office suite. He turned back to her to see if he could come up with an excuse to get back in the elevator for get more information.
Wella grinned from ear to ear. “The best man won, Marco. No hard feelings?”
The doors shut before he could answer.
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