It was a good idea. It would save some monotonous conversation tonight. I would write up one for her, later.
I refolded the list and slid it into my jacket pocket. I'd be sitting in waiting rooms on and off all day—it would give me something to keep me busy.
Miss Brown was punctual, arriving at seven o'clock. I opened my door, letting her enter, took her coat, and hung it up—the whole time silent. There was such stiffness, a
formality to our interactions, which I knew had to change.
Problem was, I didn't know how to make it happen. I escorted her to the counter by the kitchen and handed her a glass of wine.
"I ordered Chinese."
"You didn't have to."
"Believe me, you don't want me cooking. You wouldn't survive." I chuckled. "I'm not sure the kitchen would survive."
"I like to cook," she offered, a small smile curling her lips. That was as good a place to start as any. I sat down, dragging a file toward me. "I had a contract drawn up this
afternoon. You should read it."
"Okay."
"I made you a list, much like yours. You can go over it and we need to talk about what's on it. Make sure we're both comfortable with the facts."
She nodded and took the proffered envelope.
I pushed another smaller one toward her.
"Your first payment."
She waited, her fingers not touching the innocent-looking envelope.
"Take it. It's all documented."
Still, she didn't touch it.
"Miss Brown, unless you take it, we can't go forward."
She looked at me, frowning.
I nudged the envelope. "It's a job, Ruby. This is your compensation. Simple. Take it."
Finally, she picked it up, not even looking at it.
"I want you to resign tomorrow. Effective immediately."
"Why?"
"If this happens, and I think it will, I'll give my notice fast. I want you out of there before the shit hits the fan."
She worried the inside of her cheek, jittery and silent.
"What?" I snapped, getting impatient with her demeanor.
"What if it doesn't work? Will you . . . will you give me a letter of reference? I'll have to get another job."
"I've got that covered. I spoke with some contacts, just in general, and if this doesn't work, and I leave New york, I have two companies I know will offer you a job. You won't have to worry about looking, if you don't want. In answer to your question, though, I will give you a glowing letter of
recommendation."
"Even though you think I'm a lousy assistant?"
"I've never said you were a lousy assistant. You are, in fact, good at your job."
"You could have fooled me."
A knock at the door saved my reply. I rose to my feet.
"Dinner is here. Read the contract—it's very simple. We can discuss it and other things after we eat."
When she opened her mouth to protest, I slammed my hand on the counter. "Stop arguing with me, Ruby. We're having dinner, and you're going to eat. Then we'll talk." I
spun on my heel and headed to the door, exasperated.
Why was she so against accepting a simple meal? She was going to have to get used to accepting many things for this to work. I slipped my hand in my pocket, encountering the small box I had hidden away. If she was unsure of dinner, she was going to hate what I had in store for her after. Dinner was quiet.
She read the contract and asked a few
questions, which I answered. She vacillated when I handed her a pen, but signed the documents, watching as I did the same.
"I have two copies. One for each of us. I'll keep them in the condo safe, for which I'll give you the combination."
"Does your lawyer have a copy?"
"No. This is an arrangement between us. He knows about it, but he is bound by client confidentiality. We have only two copies. Once this is over, we can destroy them. I
had them drawn up for your benefit."
"All right."
I handed her a box. "This is your new cellphone. You'll have to give yours up when you resign, so now you have one. I programmed my personal number in there so you can reach me. You can text freely on it."
She bit her lip, accepting the box. "Thank you."
"How much stuff do you have to move in?"
"Not much."
"What about breaking your lease?"
"It's month-to-month. I guess I'll lose the last one."
I waved my hand. "I'll cover it. Should I hire a moving company for you?"
She shook her head, her eyes downcast. "It's only a few boxes."
I frowned. "No furniture?"
"No. Some books, a few personal pieces, and my clothes."
I spoke without thinking.
"You can donate your clothes back to Goodwill since I presume most of them came from there anyway. I'll be purchasing you a new wardrobe."
Her cheeks flushed, eyes flashed, dark and angry, but she said nothing.
"I'll pick up your boxes and bring them here when we move forward."
I handed her another envelope. "This is your new bank account and debit card. I'll make sure there are appropriate funds in it at all times."
She accepted the envelope with a shaking hand.
"I need you here as much as possible so we can get used to each other and talk.
Tomorrow we can go over the lists and
ask questions, fill in the blanks."
"Okay."
"Saturday morning, I want you here early. I have arranged an appointment for you to get ready for the barbeque.
Do your hair and makeup. In fact, you may want to stay over Friday night, to save you the trip."
Her gaze flew to mine. "Stay over?" she repeated, a slight tremor in her voice.
I stood up. "Let me show you the place."
She didn't say a word during the tour. I showed her the guest rooms, the den, and the private gym located at the other end of the condo on the main level.
Upstairs, she was decidedly nervous when I showed her the master bedroom.