not exactly challenging work for me,” she continued.
“Oh, it’s not?” Easton said. He licked his lips. “You want to be challenged, do you?”
“That’s right.” She met his gaze, her spine straightening. If he thought he was just going to walk all over her day after day, he had another thing coming.
“Fine,” Easton said. He scratched his cheek, seeming to consider. And then he grew overly enthusiastic, snapping his fingers. “I have just the task for you, Miss Saunders. Something very challenging, that way I won’t bore you too much with all of this easy work.”
“Good,” she replied, but now she wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t have kept her big mouth shut.
“I’m going to email you the contact information of a very powerful guy who’s looking for a new ad agency. I want you to get him on the phone for me.”
Kennedy sat down, disturbed. “That doesn’t sound too hard,” she said.
“The thing is,” Easton said, grinning, “This man hates me. I mean, he really and truly hates my guts. So, it’s not going to be easy to do it.” And then he pointed at her.
“No lying—no getting him to talk to me under false pretenses.”
“Of course not.”
“Don’t let me down, Kennedy. I expect you to succeed. This would be a huge account for us and it would really prove to me that I made the right choice in hiring you.”
“I’ll get in touch with him right away, then.”
“Oh, and get me a cup of coffee while you’re at it,” he said. “You made a pot for yourself and never even offered me any.”
“You were on the phone—“
“No excuses.” He turned and went back in his office.
Kennedy got up and quickly hustled to the kitchenette area and poured him a full mug, then carried creamer and a sampling of sweeteners into his office.
Easton was sitting at his desk, looking at a magazine. “I emailed you the information,” he said, still looking at the magazine, as she brought the mug to his desk and gently put it down nearby.
“I wasn’t sure how you take it,” she said. “So I brought lots of choices.”
“Splash of cream and one Splenda, please.”
“You want me to—“
“And make it fast. You’re wasting time.”
“Of course,” she said, quickly ripping a packet and dumping it into the mug and following that with a small dollop of creamer. She stirred it and then looked to him for guidance. “Is that all right?”
“I’m sure it’s just fine,” he muttered, not bothering to look away from his magazine.
She grabbed the creamer and packets of sweetener and carried them hastily back to the kitchen. Her heart was beating fast and she felt a sense of building pressure. This was the way she’d felt when presenting a paper before class or at an important conference at MIT.
How silly was it to already fall into this mindset that these trivial tasks were of any importance?
And yet, she couldn’t seem to help it, because she was falling into that trap. He’d already roped her into his world, and she was at the mercy of his opinions and whims.
A moment later, she was sitting at her desk and opening the email from Easton Rather. All it said was:
Travis Hill Jr.
And then it listed his phone number.
The email told her nothing about who he was, so Kennedy got online and googled Travis Hill Jr. to arm herself with at least a little knowledge.
And it would help if Easton mentioned something about why the man hates him so much .
After all, it was one thing for Easton to test her a little bit before hiring her, and quite another to constantly throw new challenges at her, minute after minute, all day long.
Especially when he seemed to be making her life intentionally more difficult than it needed to be.
That was the kind of thing that could drive her crazy if he kept at it.
You wanted this job, Kennedy. You begged for it, you stalked him for it, and now you’re already complaining that it’s too hard. Stop whining and prove that he can’t break you with