I swallow hard, my nerves suddenly returning like a rush of flooding tide waters.
“Ch-changes?” I stammer. “What do you mean?”
Jude smiles, nearly melting me like a bar of chocolate in the hot summer sun. “Well, I have certain rules for how my girls dress around the office, and well…” he says as he looks me up and down again with those eyes…those penetrating eyes of his. “Well, let’s just say you’re breaking those rules right now, sweetheart.”
I’m instantly taken back to moments ago when Gretchen came racing out of his office, her face red and streaked with tears.
“Let me guess,” I say. “Heels and a skirt?”
Jude cocks his head to the side and lowers his chin with an impressed look on his face. “Well, well, well. You’re one sharp cookie, aren’t you? It seems Carlos was right to hire you.” My insides swell with warmth, and I instantly feel myself standing up straighter. Did Jude Crown really just give me a compliment?
My whole body is hot, as though I’m blushing from head to toe. I quickly glance down at myself to see if I’m red, but thankfully I’m not. If he saw me like that right now and knew what was going on inside of me…I don’t know what I would do.
I’m doing my best to maintain a look of confidence and professionalism, but inside I’m absolutely melting. This big man in front of me is so intimidating and his reputation carries so much weight that he radiates an aura of strength that I can practically feel.
“Was he?” he asks.
“I-I’m sorry?” Oh God. He just asked me something and I have no idea what he wants to know. I’ve just made a fool out of myself and I haven’t even been on the job for five minutes.
Thankfully, Mr. Crown smiles and drags his gaze up my body.
“Carlos. Was he right to hire you?”
“I…I hope so,” I reply honestly.
Mr. Crown nods. “Fair enough. Now, for your first assignment, head down to Saks and get yourself some clothes. Tell Claire that Jude sent you and tell them to put it on the business account. If they give you a hard time, have them call the office and check in with Carlos. Understand?”
I can’t even believe what’s happening right now, but I manage to nod.
“Yes…sir.”
“Good. And while you’re there, grab me a few ties as well.”
Every muscle in my body goes tense.
“A few ties?” I ask as he turns away from me.
“That’s right. Five ought to do.”
Oh God. I knew this job was going to be hard, but I was expecting paperwork and maybe fetching coffee, not making fashion choices for one of the most handsome billionaires in the world.
“Any particular color or print?” I ask.
Jude casually steps closer to me, inspecting me like I’m a piece of art he’s considering buying. I’m suddenly self-conscious, hyper-aware of every flaw I’ve ever known about myself. But Mr. Crown looks at me with approval and nods. “I trust your taste, Penny. Now go on. But hurry back, okay? Oh, and you should wear your hair up. Don’t hide that pretty face of yours.”
Yeah, I’m going to blush. But before I go, I quickly turn away, taking a mental photograph of the tie currently around Jude’s neck: gray with blue stripes.
“Y-yes, sir…”
Before I’m even out the door, I hear Jude back on the phone again, barking orders to someone, asking about whether or not the new contracts with royalty percentages have been updated or not. I close the office door behind me and walk quickly in the direction of the elevator. I highly doubt anyone is looking at me, but it feels like every eye in the office is on me. I can practically hear what they’re all thinking:
“There she is.”
“That’s the new girl.”
“I wonder how long she’ll last?”
“Not more than a day, two at max.”
“She’s not even from the city. She’s an upstate bumpkin. What’s she even doing here?”
I thumb the call button and watch the light as the elevator slowly ascends from the 55th floor. As soon as the doors open, I practically throw myself in and smash my thumb on the button for the lobby. I keep my eyes closed and lean against the wall of the elevator, ignoring everyone who gets in on the way down, and focus only on the single, amazing, nearly unbelievable fact that keeps bouncing around in my mind:
He liked me. Jude Crown actually liked me. Not only that, but he said I was good-looking!
The last person riding with me gets off on floor twelve, leaving me alone in the elevator. When the doors close behind them, I let out a scream of sheer delight like a nine-year-old girl on Christmas morning.
“Yes!” I shout, throwing both hands into the air. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”
I literally cannot believe it. I go right into my silly dance and am still in the midst of it when the elevator dings and the doors open into the lobby, at which point I go right into pretending there’s something wrong with my shoe as several people get on. Then I quickly make my way out, and grinning like a schoolgirl, march out into the sunny streets of Manhattan and call a cab.
The first one passes me, by but the second stops. I slide in the backseat.
“Saks Fifth Avenue, please.”
“No problem,” the driver replies.
My heart is still racing, but for different reasons now. I’m no longer filled with panic and anxiety; now I’m running through outfit ideas in my head, trying to think of what I should get that will best please Jude and make me look my best but also still be professional for the office.
Obviously, he wants me to look sexy, which is a skill I have absolutely never learned, but I’m still his secretary and need to be taken seriously. I can’t just pick up a set of black lace lingerie and some heels and head back there like we’re about to make a sex tape or something. I also can’t copy what Gretchen was wearing either. The last thing in the world I need to do is riff off of the girl he recently let go who was escorted out by security.
And then of course there’s the question of his ties…
The ride to Saks doesn’t take too long, even with Manhattan traffic being what it is. I pay the driver and tip him, get out and head inside, and am instantly overwhelmed. I am not supposed to be here. The outfit I’m wearing cost less than fifty dollars, the shoes were thrifted, and the necklace is my roommate Rachel’s who let me borrow it for today. I do the majority of my shopping at thrift stores. Saks is for people who have vacation homes on Long Island.
Not wanting to waste time, I quickly go through the store, passing names of designers I barely recognize, doing my best to avoid any eye contact with the other shoppers. The last thing I need is for one of them to ask me a question I can’t answer, like what law firm my dad works at or whether I like France or Italy more.
The first thing I do is pick out ties for Mr. Crown. I try to stick with ones that are similar to what he was wearing at the office, but not identical, and nothing too outlandish as far as colors go. Each tie is 150 dollars, which absolutely blows my mind, but I remind myself of where I’m shopping and quickly move on. I have to find an outfit and get back to the office quickly.
After about ten minutes of frantic browsing, I finally settle on a red skirt that lands just above the knee and looks great with a white Gucci blouse that is somewhat adorable and somewhat royal. And so what if the skirt costs 2,000 dollars and the blouse costs 1,300? Jude said to get whatever I wanted and charge it to the company, right? I ask the girl sitting outside the dressing room if it’s all right if I wear the clothes out.
“That’s just fine.” She smiles. “They’ll help you take the tags off at the register.”
I thank her and quickly head to the shoe section to find some heels, which I find much more quickly than I found the clothes. Black Louboutin, the ones with the red bottoms like Cardi B talks about. Does that make me basic? Maybe, but again, I don’t know anything about luxury clothes (or heels), and I need to get back to the office. They cost 775 dollars, bringing the total at the register to a whopping 4,275 dollars for a single outfit.
Ah, how the other side lives.
“Could you charge this to Crown Enterprises, please?” I ask the girl at the register. “I’m Penny, Mr. Crown’s new secretary. He sent me down here and told me to ask for Claire and told me to have her call Carlos if there was a problem—”
“I’m Claire.” The girl smiles. “And that won’t be a problem.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as she leans in and uses a remote to scan the tag on my skirt and my dress. Then I hand her the box with my heels in it, she scans them, presses a few buttons on the computer, then flashes me a cute thumbs up.
“You’re good to go. Just let me remove the security tags so they don’t think you’re trying to rip us off when you step out the door.”
“Thank you!” I say as she comes around the counter with a strange-looking device in her hand, which she uses to remove both tags from my shirt and skirt.
“Would you like a bag for your old clothes?” she asks.
“That would be wonderful,” I reply as I slip into my heels. Claire hands me a Saks bag, which I can’t wait to show my roommates. I stuff my old clothes into it, thank her, and quickly head back outside and call a cab.
The ride back to the office feels much longer than the ride down to Saks, but I’m sure it’s all in my head. Even though I was sent down here by Jude, it feels wrong being away from his desk. I’m sure the last thing Mr. Crown wants is a girl who takes all day to make up her mind and complete a simple task.
I’m not as nervous the second time I make my way through the lobby to the elevator after the taxi drops me off, but I’m a different type of nervous now. Will everyone be looking at me now? Will they notice that I’ve changed? And will they know that it was because of Mr. Crown’s rules that I’m to abide by?
I thumb the button for the 75th floor. I may be standing straighter in my new heels, but I’m as anxious as ever as the elevator rises to the top of the building, and when the doors ding and I step out into the offices of Crown Enterprises, I feel as though I’m about to take part in the most important test of my life.
Are they looking at me? I think as I pass the lines of desks, doing my best to appear confident, although I am anything but. I see Carlos standing by what must be the door to the breakroom. He sees me and nods, giving me a look that must be a look of approval. I force a smile back as I turn and make my way toward Mr. Crown’s office.
There they are…those tall, daunting, monolithic doors to his office, closed as though no one is meant to enter. No one but me, his new secretary. With a deep breath, I walk straight up to them and knock. His voice booms from within.
“Yes?”
“M-Mr. Crown? It’s Penny.”
“Penny?”
“Your…your new girl?”
“Oh, right,” he laughs. “Yeah, get your ass in here, Penny.”
I’m starting to sweat as I reach for the door. But then I remember what he said before I left, and just before I enter, I quickly put my hair up. It’s messy, but it’s the best I can do right now. I step in and find Mr. Crown standing, holding what looks to be a glass of scotch or whiskey on the rocks, leaning against his desk. His eyes fix on me as I enter, his face unreadable.
“Close the door behind you,” he says. “And come here, let me get a look at you.”
I do as I’m told. I close the door and walk into the center of the room and stop before him. This is it, the moment of truth. If what Gretchen said was true, it could all end here. If he doesn’t like what I picked out for my outfit, or for his ties, he could fire me on the spot. The money I spent down at Saks is nothing to him. Not only is it a tax write-off, but the company made more than that while I was gone. Many, many times more.
“I-I got your ties,” I mutter, setting the boxes down on his desk and stepping back. “I think you’ll…like them…I hope.”
Mr. Crown simply stares at me, takes a sip from his drink, then smiles.
“You put your hair up.” All I can do is nod. “I’ll tell you what I do like.” He gestures at me, from my feet all the way up to my breasts. “So if your choice in ties is anything like your choice in what you picked out for yourself, I think they’ll be just fine.”
Again, that happy warmth returns to my chest. I try not to smile but can feel the corners of my lips turning upwards.
“Th-thank you, sir.”
Mr. Crown sets his drink down and steps closer, close enough that I can smell the scent of the product he put in his hair and the subtle hint of his scent behind his deodorant.
“No, thank you.” He smiles, letting his gaze travel up and down my body again before locking his eyes on mine. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
I open my mouth to speak but realize I don’t know how to respond to his question.
“I—”
“Shhh,” Mr. Crown interrupts with a finger to my lips. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I know you are. But that’s gonna change real soon.”
