Wife and Girlfriend

Chapter 4

Tani

We'd been talking pretty effortlessly along the drive through the streets of downtown Charlotte. Or rather, I'd been babbling my head off, giving him the blow-by-blow of my childhood, including sibling rivalries, overbearing parents, and pre-pubescent crushes at church.

This man was one step away from sitting across from me at Thanksgiving dinner if I didn't slow down the indoctrination in the Grant  family ways.

But my mind had opened the floodgates, and my mouth was powerless to stop it.

And why were the disclosures so focused on my personal life?  Because that's all he keeps asking you about, strangely.

If this were some new way that boss' acclimated their new employees into the work culture, I'd need to talk to my sister and get her to give me some more pointers. I was completely unprepared for this conversation.

I'd finally gotten up enough courage to turn the tables and begin asking him some information about the position when we pulled into the parking lot beside a huge building with various sports banners blowing atop multiple flagpoles.

***

"You're back?" came the hurried voice of a man still wearing a collar of tissue paper. I recognized his face somewhat from an evening news program that my dad was really into, but the other clue could have been the camera crew trying to keep up with him.

"Harold Spector, meet Tani Grant. It's her first day on the job," Hunter replied, never answering the direct question asked.

It didn't escape me that he hadn't introduced me as his new 'executive assistant'. Shit, perhaps he wasn't planning on keeping me around after all.

"Nice to meet you. Don't let this man make you too jaded about the publishing industry," he offered politely.

"Don't worry, I won't," I responded, even though there really was no question posed.

"Golf next Saturday, Moore. Higher stakes than last time. The wife says I've got to win that money back," the news anchor had laughed before disappearing further into the sea of reporters and other camera crews standing around.

"Are you comfortable?" he'd asked me this before when his fancy seats were molesting my butt cheeks. I just smiled at him, but after I did, he seemed to be the one uncomfortable and tried to look anywhere else besides at my face.

"Is there some announcement today? I recognize some of the reporters," I said while craning my neck to get a better view of what looked like a stage just beyond the crowd.

"You really don't watch soccer, do you?" he huffed.

Great, another strike.

"Listen, I didn't mean anything by that. You're on the right track," he said, running his fingers through his hair with his hand resting on the back of his neck.

I was telling myself that I was continuing to stare at him because it seemed as if he still had something more to say, but when the silence between us got more awkward than not, I looked away back towards the stage.

"There is a big announcement today," I jumped a little when I felt his breath against my ear. I returned my gaze to him.

"The United Charlotte Football Club is about to announce that Tiger Dav..." but he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. There was a sudden movement amongst those standing around us as people began scrambling towards their assigned seats.

Whatever was happening was about to begin right now.

I followed my boss to the very front row of the event space as he pointed to a seat beside him that apparently I was supposed to occupy. His seat was clearly marked with a black and white laminated sign with his first and last name on it. Mine had a post-it note with the word 'guest' scrawled on it.