Page 2 of The Swap After Hours

“I’m sorry, but I think maybe there’s been some kind of mix up.”

The woman—I still didn’t even know her name—shot me a stern look over her shoulder as we neared the last door, centered at the end of the hall. “Look, I can answer your questions later. Right now, you need to get in there and do your job. That is, if you still have one.” I wasn’t sure I was supposed to hear that last part as it was said under her breath, but before I could question it, she was knocking on the door.

A deep voice answered. “Yes?”

The woman opened the door slightly, blocking my view. “Excuse me, Mr. Marshall. Mr. Lewis is here now.”

I frowned at the woman, even more confused. Clearly there’d been some sort of mistake. She’d called me Mr. Lewis, but my last name was Reed. “Wait! I’m not?—”

“It’s about time. Send him in quickly, Kelly,” the man barked.

The woman—Kelly, apparently—gave me a sardonic look as she turned and slipped past me. “Good luck,” she murmured. I stared at her retreating form, feeling like I’d somehow ended up in the Twilight Zone.

The loud clearing of a throat caught my attention and I turned, opening the door the rest of the way. The man—she’d called him Mr. Marshall—was sitting behind the desk, wearing a rather perturbed look on his face.

I was secure enough in my masculinity to admit he was handsome. Extremely so, with thick coal-black hair, a strong jawline, and vibrant green eyes which narrowed at me. “Are you going to come in or are you going to keep standing out there and continue to waste my time?”

“I’m uh…going to come in?” My words came out as more of a question than a statement, which wasn’t surprising since I still had no idea what in the hell was going on. “Actually, I need to explain. I think there’s been some sort of mistake.”

“The only mistake is me thinking I could trust a recruitment company to find a competent person to work for me. Apparently, it’s true that if you want something done right then you need to do it yourself,” he said bitingly. “Now, I have a conference call that’s about to begin and I need you to take notes, if you think you can manage that.”

My mouth opened and shut like a fish as I sank down into one of the chairs across from him. I couldn’t seem to get my brain to work well enough to form any actual words, but he’d already turned his attention away from me and was typing something into his computer. A second later, a man’s voice came through the speakers. They exchanged a few pleasantries and then launched right into their meeting.

I glanced around, marveling at the spacious office with its rich mahogany cabinets, plush carpet, and luxurious leather furniture.

To my right was an informal sitting area complete with a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table. On my left was a full-sized conference table with twelve chairs situated around it.

Behind me was a bathroom and—I did a double take—a bar area. An actual bar with glass shelves containing the kind of high-end labels I could never afford. I thought people having bars in their offices was only in movies.

Straightening in my seat, I peered out the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the entire wall behind the desk. The view of the city was spectacular, and I itched to get a closer look. I could only imagine how breathtaking it must be at night when everything was lit up.

There was no doubt about it. The office was sleek and sophisticated, much like the man it belonged to. My eyes darted to him, widening when I found him staring back at me. The frown marring his handsome face made it clear he was unimpressed.

I swallowed hard as he rolled his eyes then opened one of the desk drawers and tossed a pad of paper and a pen at me irritably. I had no idea what kind of notes he wanted me to take, so I began jotting down anything I thought sounded important, writing furiously as I struggled to keep up with their conversation.

My head snapped up when his tone suddenly turned sharp. “I don’t care how difficult it is.”

“But, sir?—”

Mr. Marshall cut the man off before he could say another word, the severe look on his face making it clear he was not someone who should be messed with, yet he kept his tone even. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Roger. I pay you very well to take care of these things for me. Now, do your job and figure it out.”

Roger hesitated only a moment. “Yes, sir.”

My jaw went slack. I’d never seen anyone display such authority without even raising their voice. Obviously, he knew what he was doing when it came to business, and he was willing to do whatever it took to get things done the way he wanted. Watching him, I had to admit I was impressed, if not a bit intimidated.

They exchanged a few more words as the meeting began wrapping up and thank God because my hand was starting to cramp from furiously writing. I set the pen down and shook my hand out to the side, trying to get the blood to flow back in my fingers.

Mr. Marshall had just ended the call when there was a knock on the door. “Yes?”

Kelly stepped in, looking nervous and more than a little confused. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s been a…um…there’s a man here.”

He sighed. “I’m very busy, Kelly. Who is it?”

She wrung her hands in front of her. “Well, that’s the thing. He says he’s Mr. Lewis and that he’s your new personal assistant.”

“He…what?” They both turned to look at me, suddenly very interested in what I had to say.

I grinned sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders. “I tried to tell you.”