Home > Trust in Advertising(17)

Trust in Advertising(17)
Author: Victoria Michaels

Sean Lexi grinned and tucked the paper into her pocket while she headed to her desk.

“Have a nice day,” Leigh called after her.

“Thanks!”

Lexi’s morning reorganization project got off to a slow start, thanks to none other than Vincent Drake himself. He had her running all over the building picking up designs from the art department, faxing copies down to his hotel in Grand Cayman, and searching his desk for yet another missing file or microscopic piece of paper. She even had to go pick up his suit at the tailor’s. By lunchtime, she was ready to throw her phone out the window just for the sheer joy of seeing it smash onto the concrete and shatter into a million tiny pieces.

“Who works this much while they’re on vacation?” Lexi wondered out loud as she stopped a stack of folders from toppling off Vincent’s desk.

“Honestly, go sit in the sun, drink a fruity drink with one of those cute little paper umbrellas and a piece of pineapple in it, and leave me alone so i can get some work done.” She was sorting papers into the piles she had scattered across the office carpet when her phone chirped.

Alexandra, I am still waiting on the phone number for the photographer we used on the Wilson shoot. If it’s more than you can handle, I can always hire someone who doesn’t find the job as challenging as you do.

V. D.

“You’re not going to fire me, pal, after I’ve run my fanny off for the past two days. I’m lasting long enough for you to get back into town so I can tell you I quit to your face.” She gripped the edge of Vincent’s desk and pulled herself to her feet. “And my name is Lexi!”

Vincent, If I don’t have that phone number for you in ten minutes, I’ ll grant your wish.

Lexis he pressed send and stormed down the hallway, a woman on a mission. She rounded the corner, breezed past the chairs outside the office, and without knocking, threw open an office door to find Sean leaning back in his black leather chair, his feet propped up on top of his desk as he chatted on the phone.

“Come on, babe, I can’t help that. Now you’re being ridiculous. Well, what do you want me to say?” He rolled his eyes and motioned for Lexi to have a seat. “Hey … Wha- … No, listen, someone’s here. I have to go. Can’t we just talk about it later? Hello? Hello?” He slammed the phone down on the desk. “Sorry, domestic situation. So, what can I do for you? Or better yet, what has Vincent done now?

“I need a phone number.”

“Hired assassins don’t come cheap, Lexi. Do you have enough cash on hand?” Sean leaned forward and began flipping through his Rolodex.

“Guido the Squid is good and works on credit, but he’s kinda messy. How about Jimmy? You get a discount if you use him, cuz he only has one hand.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but not what I’m here for … yet. I need a phone number, and I can’t find it in any of Vincent’s files. And believe me, I’ve searched every scrap of wrinkled paper in his office. I’m looking for the number for the photographer from the Wilson shoot last month.”

“Well, of course that isn’t in his office.” Sean went to one of his file cabinets. “What a jerk. He could have just called me about it.” He flipped through a few folders, and then tossed a small business card into her lap.

Lexi read it and sighed in relief. “Thanks, Sean. You’re a lifesaver!”

“What are you supposed to do with the phone number?”

“I need to text it to him in—,” Lexi glanced down at her watch, “—less than four minutes, or I told him I’d resign.” She jumped up from the chair she had been sitting in and headed for the door so she could get back to her phone in time.

Sean chuckled. “I have a better idea. Tell him to just hit three on his speed dial. That photographer, Erik Caldwell, is his brother-in-law.”

I swear I’m going to kill this man.

Lexi didn’t even remember storming down the hall, but the next thing she knew, she was sitting behind her desk, clutching her BlackBerry so tightly that it was seconds away from crumbling into dust in her grip. Calmly, she sent Vincent the phone number.

Vincent, Here’s the phone number you so desperately needed. I hope your brotherin-law and Anna are doing well.

Lexi That was the last communication she had with Vincent that day. Over the next three hours, she finished organizing his office and was amazed at how much bigger his desk looked minus all the files. Everything was coded, dated, and filed. She even downloaded many of the active account files onto her BlackBerry so she would have everything at her fingertips no matter where she was.

Let him try and confuse me again tomorrow. Lexi snickered as she stood in Vincent’s office admiring her handiwork.

“Sweet merciful crap! What the hell happened in here?”

Lexi smiled over her shoulder at a gaping Leigh. “Looks pretty nice, doesn’t it?”

“He’s gonna die,” Leigh answered as her hands covered her mouth.

“Did you even realize he had such a beautiful desk underneath that giant pile of papers?”

“There you are, Leigh. I’ve been trying to call you … oh my God. Wait, did I turn down the wrong hallway? Whose office is this?” Sean stood in the doorway and glanced at the shiny silver nameplate on the desk. Then he stared at the girls with a look of horror on his face.

“It’s still Vincent’s office. I just cleaned it. Doesn’t it look nice? Now I won’t have to bug you so much, Sean. I know where every single paper is in this office.”

Sean and Leigh exchanged a knowing glance.

“Okay, why the silent treatment?”

“Vincent’s going to have a heart attack.” Sean rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the room.

“A good heart attack or a bad heart attack?” Lexi asked, suddenly questioning her decision to reorganize the office of the executive vice president without his permission.

Sean let out a sigh. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” He winked at Leigh. “You better call me the second he steps off that elevator.”

Still feeling dejected by the potential disaster brewing at work, Lexi dragged her weary feet all the way up to her apartment. Instead of crawling into bed like she should have, she walked across the hall and began banging her head against Hope’s door. The bronze-skinned beauty opened the door, still dressed in her overalls from the shop, and froze.

“What’s wrong? And why are you knocking on my door with your forehead?” “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

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