In His Service

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Ginny's POV

I slammed my tightly balled fist down on my cell phone the second it started to vibrate, announcing the arrival of my alarm--my third morning alarm--going off again. It was 8 AM, and I had been smashing the snooze on my phone for two hours.

Grudgingly I picked it up and squinted at the bright screen in my dimly lit bedroom. Several messages and one missed call.

I scanned my call log and saw a number I didn't recognize, but no voicemail. Satisfied that the missed call was probably a telemarketer, I turned to my messages. I responded to a couple from my roommate Caitlin, sent a quick apology to Amber, my gym buddy, for not showing up this morning, and was about to set the phone aside when it vibrated in my hand and a new message notification popped up.

The same number that had called me this morning. Curious, I tapped the icon and pulled up the message, reading it twice before my brain registered.

Ginny- good morning. I know we talked about you starting as my assistant after meeting the partners this weekend, but my partners will be unavailable next week, and I would like to discuss you starting earlier. Like today. Call me ASAP. It's urgent -Derek

He wants me to start today... He wants me to start today? What, did he think I didn't have anything better to do? That I didn't have a life? I fumed and asked myself... Did I?

I groaned and flopped back against the pillows on my bed, not wanting to think about work, or messages, or Derek...

Scrambling to my feet, I flipped my phone screen-down on my nightstand and padded to the kitchen sleepily to make coffee. I will think about all these things when I've had some caffeine.

As I waited for the coffee to brew, I opened the fridge and scanned its contents before grabbing the almond milk and tipping it up to empty the contents straight into my mouth.

I realized there was no bag in the trash can, but wasn't too worried about it just then, so I tossed the empty carton on the counter and poured myself a piping hot cup of coffee instead.

With each sip that touched my tongue, I felt more and more awake, savoring the feeling of the caffeine reacting with my brain. I glanced at the other side of the counter where my folder of employment information lay open where I had been looking it over last night.

Derek Galloway had offered me an incredibly generous salary with benefits, paid leave, and even stipends for private housing, a car, and a new wardrobe.

I would have been an idiot not to accept... even if I did think him a bit of an idiot for the ridiculous offer.

Plus, the contract was only for one year. We could renegotiate anything in the contract at that point.

Skimming over the paperwork one last time, I swept it back into the folder and slid the whole thing into my work bag. I had just remembered his text message from earlier, and I definitely needed to respond. I hurried back into my bedroom and belly flopped across the bed to reach my phone on the nightstand. When I turned it over to see the screen, my stomach dropped.

5 missed calls.

3 new messages.

All from Derek.

I stabbed the icon for messages and skimmed all three of them in a millisecond.

8:11 AM Ginny- 'urgent' implies time sensitive. I need to know if you can work today. - Derek

8:20 AM Ginny- I know you read my first message. Have you changed your mind about the job? -Derek

8:35 AM Ginny- starting to worry. I'm coming to check on you. -Derek

The last message stumped me and I read it again before checking the clock. 8:50 AM, exactly one hour after he first called me this morning. Geez this guy is impatient, especially for someone who was late to our interview yesterday.

Shaking my head, I started to type a response.

And was interrupted by a knock at my front door.

My head snapped up, eyes wide at the sound.

I reread the message, then glanced back at the door.

Oh no he did not.

Setting my phone aside, I grabbed a hoodie off the bench at the end of my bed and threw it on over my skimpy camisole and pajama shorts before silently padding to the front door, where I had to stand on tiptoes to see out the peephole.

Sure enough, the tall figure of a male was blocking the sunlight in front of my apartment. He was standing with his back to me, and I ducked away from the peephole in case he turned around and saw my magnified eyeball staring at him through the tiny hole in the door.

I imagined his broad shoulders covered with that soft flannel shirt. The shirt that rode up his taut abdomen ever so slightly when he leaned back and stretched, exposing a tantalizing half inch of golden tanned skin.

I licked my lips involuntarily.

Damn Derek does look good. Am I allowed to think that about my boss? Something tells me he would love it if he knew I thought he was hot.

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