Page 46 of Wicked Dares
Her makeup is immaculate as usual, every strand of hair is in place, and her designer dress is the latest, like she’s dressed for a spotlight no one else can see.
She also has the perfect resting bitch face and the scowl to go with it. I went to high school with girls like her. I thought I left them there.
“Once more, I need the files done again,” she gripes, tapping her foot. “Everything needs to be organized. This office space is a mess.”
I glance around.
There is no mess to complain about. And if there is, it’s just a few documents left out on people’s desks here and there.
And that’s just the thing.
They’repeople’sdesks. Not something for me to worry about.
“I want it clean as well.” She waves her hand around. “Before everyone gets back from the meeting, clean it up. All of it.”
I bite the inside of my lip.
All she’s had me do since I’ve been here is clean and file. Yes, I know an admin assistant does filing, but cleaning?
Surely, even she knows that’s not part of my job description.
Of course, I don’t mind tidying things. But when she saysclean, she means getting the vacuum and the furniture polish—things the cleaning staff already handle.
I’ve never come into the office in the morning and seen it anything less than pristine. So, she’s just being picky.
Picky withme.
“Also,” she says, raising a hand, “you took too long of a lunch over the last few days. We all get an hour, but no one takes the full hour. So, you can have fifteen minutes today.”
I frown. “Fifteen minutes? That’s hardly enough time to get food.”
“You get fifteen minutes today and make do with it, or don’t come back next week.”
My stomach tightens, twisting into beads of knots.
This is a nightmare. I’m not going to last in this place. The thought scares me. I need this job, and if this falls apart so early and I quit or get fired, then what exactly did I come here for?
Helen treats me worse than a child, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it besides do what I’m told. Or, like she says, leave.
“Get the filing done as quickly as possible, then I want you to email the divisional manager. Let him know the concept designfor the new marketing campaign will be ready in a few weeks. Tell him I’ve been delayed.”
“I could help with the concept design if you need me to,” I offer, seeing an opportunity to do something more than filing and cleaning. Even if nothing comes of it, it would be nice to do something aligned with my skills. “I could take a look at the proposal and finish the draft. I’m excellent with things like that.” I won’t deny I’m desperate to prove I can do more than alphabetize files and wipe down desks.
Helen gives me a nasty smirk.
The look on her face is like she’s tasted something awful.
“Piper Andrews,” she grates out, my name cold on her lips, “what is your job title here?”
Instantly, I feel small.
“Administrative assistant,” I reply.
“Okay. Can you tell me what part of your job description qualifies you to draft a proposal for the divisional manager at Vale Global?” She sneers, looking me up and down.
“It’s not part of my job description, but I have an MBA?—”
“I don’t care what you have,” she cuts in. “Whatever qualifications you have are worthless to me. They don’t mean squat in this place, especially when you arenothing.”
