Free The Singles by Emily Snow Page B

LCD writing tablet I’d picked up over the long weekend, I made myself a note to get in touch with Natalie so I could beg her to squeeze me in a day earlier. “Alright, I’ll shoot her an email as soon as I get back to my desk and then I’ll follow up with her in a couple hours.”
    “Good enough.” Margaret sat up straight in her high back chair and tapped her manicured finger against her chin. “As you know, I’ll be flying to New York later today and won’t be back until Friday afternoon.”
    “Yes.”
    “You’ve scheduled a car to meet me at the airport?”
    That had been one of the first things I’d done the day I started—after my infuriating back and forth with her son. Any thought of Oliver immediately pushed the flowers from last night into my mind, and I knew I couldn’t ignore them.
    Clearing my throat, I squared my shoulders and began, “I emailed you the travel itinerary yesterday after—”
    Margaret held up a hand. “I need you to print them out and bring them to me.”
    “No problem, I’ll drop them off shortly.” When she realized I was waiting for her to finish today’s list, her eyes narrowed into a slow, burning glare.
    “Now.”
    Fisting my hands in my lap, I smiled and nodded, like a damn bobblehead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” As I departed her office, my back uncomfortably straight and every muscle ticking in anger, I wondered if she found any pleasure in this.
    She had to, right?
    “Absolute bullshit,” I hissed as I sat down at my desk and began locating the documents I’d emailed her previously. As I sent everything to the personal printer in my office, I glanced at the email conversation I’d had with Oliver, reminding me that I’d have to thank him for the flowers sooner than later. A frown tugged the corners of my lips. He could have given up or moved on to another conquest—it wasn’t like the man was in short supply of willing women, I supposed. Though that would have been too easy.
    Releasing a frustrated noise, I gathered the printouts and put them in a file folder before returning to Margaret’s office. Her chair was empty, but when I heard her voice coming from the far end of the room, I tiptoed closer to see her lying on the white sofa.
    “God damn it, Oliver, I’m not getting into this with you,” she growled, and I felt my breath catch. He was everywhere—in my home, on my computer, and now on the phone with my boss. “I’m leaving here in the next ten minutes as soon as that little—.”
    Before she could call me who knows what, I cleared my throat. She lifted her head slightly, observing me standing close to her desk. “I’ll just leave these right here.” I flashed her the documents before dropping them close to the based of her desktop screen.
    She waved her hand flippantly, but before I could completely leave her office, she stopped me. “Wait, Lizzie.” When I turned, she was in an upright position, sliding her feet into her snake-print Louboutin pumps. “I’m leaving shortly. I’m going to email you a list of things I need you to take care of while I’m away.”
    “I’ll look out for it.”
    “Also, call the cleaning service in New York and make sure they’ll have my apartment clean by this afternoon?”
    “I’ll do it right now. Have a safe trip, Margaret.”
    Ignoring me, she resumed her call with her son. “It’s too late to cancel, so you’re just going to have to deal with it,” she snapped at him, and I couldn’t help but wonder what they were arguing about as I returned to my desk to at least attempt to get some work done.
    When I heard the door to her office slam shut, I was on hold waiting to speak to someone with the cleaning service she employed for her Upper East Side apartment—my father’s old apartment. I scooted my chair back and glanced out just in time to see her stalk on the elevator in an angry huff.
    Finally , I thought, feeling a burst of giddiness.
    With her gone, tomorrow I would be free