Yes, Sir

0.4

•- Laine Bennett -•

I sit at my desk fiddling with the hem of my blouse as I stare at the phone with anxiety. It was bad enough I had trouble talking to anyone on my own phone, but making calls on another person's behalf was even more horrifying.

After a quick pep talk and a look at the clock telling me to get my ass in check, I lift the phone and dial Mr. Wood's mother.

She answers quickly, probably recognizing the number.

"Hello?" She says, her voice much more soft than I'd imagined. I'd never actually spoke with her to clear the confusion. His previous assistant left the information on my desk probably before she completely packed up and left yesterday so my knowledge was limited to a small sticky note attached to my screen.

"Hello, Mrs. Wood? I don't mean to bother you, but I'm Mr. Wood's new assistant and regarding your lunch today, he would like to reschedule for a dinner if that is okay with you?"

My voice was clearly shaken and I'm almost certain she could hear it which made me even more horrified. What do they say? Predators can smell fear. I'm damned.

"Oh that boy is always working his ass off. You tell him I'll move around my schedule. Thank you for informing me Miss-"

"Bennett," I say, "Lainey Bennett."

"Well, Miss. Lainey Bennett, it was a pleasure to speak with you. Don't let that kid get too under your skin. I know how those Wood men are. Have a lovely rest of the day."

I nod before realizing she couldn't quite see me. Or if she could, she probably flee like a man running from a penguin. Am I really afraid of penguins? Yes. Fucking terrifying animals. (would it really be me if I didn't put my own RATIONAL fears in?)

She hangs up the phone and I feel much better about myself. For no good reason either. It wasn't like she'd complimented me or anything, but she seemed like the polar opposite of her son, and that was a big relief that put to ease my fear of speaking with his mother.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding before dialing the number for the fancy restaurant that I'd only ever dreamed of dining at.

"Hello, this is regarding a reservation for Austin Wood scheduled for this afternoon. Unfortunately, Mr. Wood will be incapable of making it in time and would like to reschedule for this evening if there is an available opening at his usual table."

I chew on my bottom lip as I await the reply, thanking myself int he process for my choice of words. Very professional sounding if you were to ask me. I'm already getting the hang of this.

"It seems as though we are booked. We can offer another table however?"

I physically feel my heart drop to my stomach. Sure, that didn't seem like a big deal, but I was already at odds with the man and I'm sure my incapability to keep his preferred seating was only going to strengthen his distaste for me even more. If that was even possible.

"Oh dear," I sigh audibly, resting my forehead in my palm, "Is there any way there is a mixup? I don't mean to be a bother this early in the morning but it is crucial Mr. Wood has his usual table. I'm sure you understand, Sir."

"I can check again but I can't make any promises."

I wait, the silence slowly killing me inside. It was like God wanted me to fail.

"Miss?" The waiter says, or so I think he is I've never been to this place. My dining out is stricter to the Subway across the street from our apartment and if I'm feeling extra adventurous the Chinese restaurant just around the block.