Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Your what? Six months?”
“Derek and Jansen didn’t tell you? I’m just here on a short-term basis.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry to be yet another manager coming and going, but that’s the arrangement.”
“We’ll, I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, her expression warm. “I like you already, Ana.”
“I bet you say that to all your HR managers,” I say, and we both crack up.
I eat my lunch in the break room, where I chat with the delicious-donut-buyer herself, Imani, and learn what things are like for her in customer service. Her department is shorthanded as well, but she doesn’t complain.
Derek and Jansen’s assistant, Gloria, comes in to make a fancy coffee as I’m leaving, but there’s no sign of the men themselves.
I spend a good portion of the afternoon looking through files, where I get an eyeful. The donut dasher was far from the first employee to leave without giving two weeks’ notice. Notably, there was an accountant whose only notice was to change his out-of-office message to “I am out of the office and don't plan on ever coming back.”
There are complaints about Jansen and Derek threaded through the files, things like “I don’t understand how men who do so much good can be such jerks” and “no amount of money is worth this stress.”
I definitely have my work cut out for me, and even though it’s daunting, it’s also a little bit thrilling. I think I can make a big difference here, if I can get some changes made at the top. The men are difficult, but surely they won’t be completely unreasonable when their business is on the line, right?
In preparation for meeting with them, I make a list of the positions that need to be filled, with notes on which might be best staffed by temporary or temp-to-hire employees for quickest results before I focus on the long-term hires.
I also start drafting a list of goals outside of staffing, including formulating some sort of official employee handbook. I don’t mind asking questions and exploring on my own, because I consider myself to be a self-starter, but some people do much better with structured orientation and training programs, and as Community Bean grows, it needs to have things like that in place.
I also make notes on preliminary ideas for making this a place where people enjoy working. Irritable bosses aside, building a sense of camaraderie could help people weather the stresses of a growing company.
As the hours pass by, I’m surprised that I haven’t seen Derek or Jansen all day, though maybe it’s for the best. The less I see of them, the easier it will be to keep my mind on business.
That point is proven when Derek knocks on my open door just after five-thirty, when I’m gathering my things to go home.
All he says is my name, but you’d have thought I just read a scene from one of my favorite romance books by the way my body responds to him.
I do my best to maintain my composure, but I’m sure he can see my heated cheeks and hear the huskiness in my voice when I greet him.
He closes the door behind him, and every inappropriate thing I’d already been feeling is amplified by a factor of sixty-nine, which is just a completely random number and bears no resemblance to what I’m thinking about right now.
“How was your day?” he asks.
On shaky legs, I stand and move around my desk, as if he’s hard, shiny steel and I’m a giant magnet, physically unable to resist getting closer to him. I do somehow manage to stop a couple of feet away, at a perfectly professional distance. “… Good. I didn’t think I was going to see you before I left.”
“I’ve been here all day.”
“Your door was closed. I didn’t want to bother you.”
He crosses the little safety zone I left between us with one long stride, and his hand goes to my ponytail, where he grasps it and gently tugs, tipping my head back so that I’m looking up at him, my face just inches from his crisp white dress shirt.
His eyes slowly descend from mine, down to my mouth, then my chest. “What color is your lingerie today?”
My heart is doing double time as I catch my breath and find my voice. “That isn’t an appropriate question for you to ask.”
His hand trails down the center of my back, where I’m sure he feels the strap of my bra through my shirt. “Are you going to report me to HR?”
I grin and draw on all my inner resources to take a step back from him. “I wasn’t joking. We can’t do this anymore.”
He stays where he is, and I’m glad, because if he touches me again, I’m not sure I have the strength to back up my words.
“I need to meet with you and Jansen to discuss my hiring plans,” I say, slipping back behind the safety of my desk and steadying my voice. “Are you available tomorrow?”