Under a falling star, p.2
Under a Falling Star, page 2
“Well, once he’s back, tell him to call me.” Danielle Saunders hung up before Austen could answer.
She stared at the phone. Welcome to Kudos Entertainment.
Chapter 2
A few minutes before eleven, Austen followed her boss to the conference room. Her first day at the new job wasn’t even halfway over yet, but her head was already buzzing after sorting through mail all morning. Mr. Saunders hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that they were busy right before Christmas.
About fifteen people milled around the conference room, helping themselves to coffee and chocolate cake.
Austen smiled. A team that had chocolate cake couldn’t be too bad, could it?
Mr. Saunders clapped his hands to get their attention. “If I could distract you from the cake for a minute… This is Austen Brooks.” He earned extra points for getting her name right on the first day. “My new secre—”
“Administrative assistant,” the team shouted in unison.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just wanted to see if you’re paying attention.”
People started shaking Austen’s hand, welcoming her to the team, and introducing themselves. Someone handed her a plate with a piece of cake.
She knew she couldn’t possibly remember all those names, but she was already beginning to feel like an accepted member of the team. Maybe first days weren’t so bad after all.
Half an hour later, the cake was gone, and they had made it through all of the items on the agenda—expect for one.
“As you probably noticed, we’re woefully behind on our Christmas decorations,” Mr. Saunders said. “This year, it’s our turn to decorate the company Christmas tree in the lobby. So, any takers for that assignment?”
The team members on either side of Austen stared down at the crumbs on their plates. Others busied themselves reading the papers in front of them.
Finally, the woman next to Austen looked up. “Finance did such a good job last year. That’ll be hard to beat.”
“Oh, please! We’re marketing specialists. We can out-decorate these number crunchers with one hand tied behind our backs,” Saunders said, earning enthusiastic nods around the table.
Still, no one offered to take on the project.
Saunders looked from one team member to the next. “Come on, people! I know you’re all up to your necks in work, but someone has to do it. Don’t make me pick a volunteer.”
Paper rustled.
“How about you, Sally?”
“Me?” The brunette to Austen’s right looked up from her paperwork with a horrified expression. “Oh, no, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because…because…I’m Jewish.”
The man across from her snorted. “Oh, please. You’re about as Jewish as Genghis Khan. You wouldn’t know a gefilte fish if it bit you in the ass.”
Sally lifted her chin. “Why don’t you do it, Jack?”
“You saw photos of my Christmas tree last year. Do you really want me to be the one who holds up the honor of the marketing department?”
“Come to think of it…no.” Sally giggled. “That Christmas tree looked like it had dying-forest syndrome.”
“That’s pathetic, people,” Mr. Saunders said. “We’re the marketing department. Presenting things and making them look good is our job, right?”
The people around the table nodded.
“Decorating one little Christmas tree can’t be that hard. Who’s gonna do it?” He looked at each of his employees.
Austen hesitated. Because of Toby, she hadn’t had a Christmas tree for the past five or six years. He seemed to think the tree was a giant bird toy and chewed on the ornaments, so after that first year, she had banned all Christmas decorations from her apartment. Now she was totally out of practice. Still, this was her chance to make a good impression on Mr. Saunders and her new colleagues.
Slowly, she lifted her hand. “I could do it.”
All heads turned in her direction.
“Are you sure?” Mr. Saunders asked. “Wouldn’t you rather ease into the new job instead of taking on a project on your first day?”
Austen squared her shoulders. “That’s okay. I’d like to do it.”
Mr. Saunders nodded. “All right. Thank you. How about some support for our new admin?”
“I could help her,” Jack said.
Sally nodded. “Me too. We could discuss strategy over lunch.”
Discuss strategy? Austen stared at her. She’d thought she would just start with the lights, add ornaments, and finally finish with tinsel. But, apparently, it didn’t work that way if you were in marketing and trying to outdo the accounting team.
“All right. Please get on it right away, if possible. An empty Christmas tree is a disgrace for a company that aims to make children happy.” Mr. Saunders gathered his stack of papers and got up. At the door, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at Austen. “Welcome to the team again.”
* * *
This must be workplace heaven. Austen had expected a company cafeteria that served mac and cheese or lukewarm pizza, but instead she’d had her choice of four different mouthwatering dishes.
She finished her last bite of grilled chicken and got started on her cinnamon toffee muffin, which tasted just as spectacular. Clearly, Kudos Entertainment Inc. was on a mission to fatten up its employees. “Is the food always this good?”
Jack nodded while still shoveling down his second helping of curry.
“Working for Kudos is a pretty sweet deal,” Sally said. “Unless you work in operations, of course.” She and Jack exchanged knowing glances.
Austen swallowed a bite of muffin. “Why? What’s wrong with operations?”
Sally looked left and right, then leaned across the table and whispered, “Its boss. Mr. Saunders is a sweetheart—not to mention hot—but his sister…”
“She’s hot too,” Jack mumbled around a mouthful of curry.
Sally rolled her eyes. “Men. She’s a bitch. She fired her last assistant a few days ago, not caring that it’s the holiday season. Can you believe it?”
Austen could. “My last boss was like that too.”
“Yeah? What happened?” Sally’s eyes gleamed. She leaned even farther across the table.
Shit. Now she’d done it. She hadn’t planned to come out to her new colleagues on the first day, but maybe it was better that way. The new team seemed friendly, and she didn’t want to distance herself from them by hiding in the closet, unable to join in when they talked about their private lives. She took a deep breath. “He was a homophobic chauvinist. He had it in for me ever since I brought my girlfriend to the office Christmas party the year I started working for them.”
“Oh,” Sally said.
Jack glanced up from his curry.
Austen clamped damp fingers around the napkin. Maybe being so open about her sexual orientation had been a bad idea.
“You should bring her to the office Christmas party the Friday after this one,” Sally said.
“Who?”
“Your girlfriend.”
Austen shook her head. “We’re not together anymore.”
Her colleagues didn’t need to know the details. After breaking up with her on Christmas Day three years ago, Brenda had revealed that there was someone else. She was in a long-term partnership and had been long before they’d met. Without knowing it, Austen had been the other woman. She brushed a few muffin crumbs off her blouse, wishing she could get rid of her bitter memories as easily.
“Oh. Sorry.” Sally reached across the table and patted her hand. “But you could still bring a date. Mr. Saunders would be fine with it. His sister is gay too.”
“Attila is gay? Uh, I mean…Ms. Saunders, the COO?”
Sally chuckled. “I see you’ve already heard of her. Yes, she’s gay. Not that anyone has ever seen her with a woman. She’s married to her job.”
Austen shoved back her empty plate. “So, any ideas for our Christmas tree project?”
Jack and Sally shook their heads.
“It has to be something unique,” Sally said. “We can’t let the guys from finance think they’re more creative than us.”
“Maybe we could hang little toys,” Austen said. After all, that would be fitting for a games and toy company.
“That’s what finance did last year,” Sally said.
“Hmm.” Austen searched her memory for more unusual Christmas tree decorations she’d seen in the past. “How about natural ornaments like pinecones, winterberries, and apples?”
“Already been done,” Sally said.
“Gingerbread ornaments that employees baked themselves?”
Sally shook her head. “HR, four years ago.”
“We could do a Christmas tree out of green beer bottles,” Jack said when he finally finished the last bite of his curry.
Austen and Sally just looked at him.
“Okay, okay.” He lifted his hands. “Just a suggestion.”
“How did your old company decorate their tree?” Sally asked.
“We didn’t have one. Instead, we donated the money to an organization that fulfills wishes of children from poor families.” That had been one of the few things she liked about her old company. Austen leaned her chin on her hand and rubbed her forehead. Wishes. Hmm, that could work. “How about we do something less commercial?”
“What?” they asked in unison.
Austen fished for the notepad in her purse and sketched it out for them.
Chapter 3
At the knock on her office door, Dee looked up from the reports scattered all over her desk. “Yes?” she snarled. God help whoever was interrupting her.
The door opened, and her cheerfully grinning brother appeared in the doorway. “Hey. I hear you called?”
Dee slipped out of her shoes and let them drop to the carpet. “I already took care of it.”
“Took care of what?”
“Oh, nothing. Just had to go knock some heads together down in licensing. We need that licensing deal with Unicorn Pictures to go through before Christmas, or we’ll lose shares in the European market. Is the marketing campaign for that ready?”
Tim nodded. “I’ll send you the details before I leave for the day.”
“Leave?” It was barely five.
“Yeah. Some of us have a life, you know? I don’t want to end up like Dad, not getting to see my kids grow up because I’m always at work.”
Part of Dee admired her brother for going against family tradition and not making work the center of his life, but she didn’t have kids or anyone waiting for her at home, and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon. “Are you finished with your report for the shareholders’ meeting?”
“Almost. There’s still plenty of time.” Tim entered the office and closed the door behind him. He crossed over to her desk and set something down on a stack of spreadsheets.
Frowning, Dee studied the pile of paper snowflakes. She picked one up and looked at it. One side glimmered silver under the fluorescent lights in her office; the other side was made of white paper. “Don’t tell me that’s all your department came up with for the new product launch next week.”
Tim chuckled. “No. It’s not for the product launch. This is part of our Christmas tree decoration. We’re asking our employees to write down their biggest wishes for next year on the paper side of the snowflake and then hang it on the tree. Hand them out to your team.” He threw a pen at her. “And fill one out too.”
Dee scrunched up her face. She didn’t have time for this childish crap. Their CEO was breathing down her neck to hand in her annual report by next Tuesday at the latest. Just because he was their uncle didn’t mean he’d go easy on her—quite the opposite. “Who came up with that bright idea?”
“My new administrative assistant.”
“You’d better keep her on a short leash, or she’ll have us knit socks for the tree next year.”
Tim folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t be an ass. She’s an intelligent, young woman. I’m sure she’ll be an asset to my team.”
“If she’s that good, why didn’t we hire her as my new secretary?”
“It’s called administrative assistant nowadays, Sis.”
They grinned at each other.
“And we didn’t make her your admin, because you said you didn’t want one. Besides, we want to keep her around for longer than…” Tim pretended to leaf through a file, “…three weeks, six weeks, or four days.”
Dee crumpled up one snowflake and threw it at him. “You make it sound like I’m impossible to work for.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “If the shoe fits. Your track record with admins isn’t the best.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault. The first one never got any work done. The only thing she did all day was water her plants and paint her nails. And you know what happened with the last one. She shredded my reports, and when I told her to print them out again, she somehow managed to delete my files. Which is why I have no time for this stuff.” She waved at the stack of snowflakes on her desk. “I have to start over with the report.”
“We’ve been discussing this for longer than it would have taken you to scribble down one measly wish. Come on. Get it over with.”
“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Must be genetic, then, because that’s what people around here say about you.”
Sighing, Dee picked up a pen and thought of a wish. Only one thing came to mind. She quickly scribbled it down on the paper side of the snowflake. “There. Now get out of here and let me finish this damn report.”
Tim didn’t move. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You didn’t wish for good fourth-quarter numbers, did you?”
She shrugged. What else was she supposed to wish for?
He picked up her snowflake.
“Hey! Isn’t it supposed to be bad luck to let others read your wish?”
“That’s the point of the snowflakes. We’re putting them up on the tree for everyone to read.” He read what she had written. “I knew it. That’s pathetic. When will you finally realize that there’s more to life than just work, work, work?”
“Since when?” She remembered the many nights he’d been right there with her, burning the midnight oil, both working their way up in their uncle’s company.
“Since I met Janine,” he said, a smile softening his expression.
Before he could go into raptures about the whirlwind romance with his wife of fifteen months, she grabbed another snowflake, wrote “world peace” on it, and shoved it at him. “There. Happy now?”
He read the two words. “No. It has to be a personal wish.”
“Tim…” She rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath. It wasn’t his fault that she had to write that report all over again. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll finish your report for the shareholders’ meeting if you take care of this for me.”
His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Deal.” He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket, took a new snowflake from her desk, and wrote something on it. “All done. You have to hang it yourself, though.”
She opened her mouth to protest.
“Just take a little detour and place it on the tree the next time you go get yourself more of that black tar you call coffee.” He handed her the snowflake, turned on his heel, and strode out.
The mention of her drug of choice made Dee peek into the large mug on her desk. It was empty and probably had been for hours. She picked it up and headed for the door, leaving the snowflake behind.
A few minutes later, she returned and set the steaming mug on her desk.
The snowflake was still there.
Might as well get it over with. The coffee would still be hot once she returned. She took the snowflake and made her way down the corridor. While the elevator carried her toward the lobby, she read the two words that were written on the paper side in capital letters: NEW GIRLFRIEND.
Dee snorted. Yeah, right. She spent all her time at work, so how was she supposed to meet a woman? Not gonna happen.
The steel doors slid open, and she stepped into the lobby.
She had to admit that the Christmas tree didn’t look half bad. Lights in red and blue, the company colors, had been strung around the tree, which was topped by a large, five-pointed star made of crystal. Dozens of snowflakes glimmered in the branches, and employees were swarming the tree to hang their own snowflakes and read what their colleagues had written.
Don’t they have work to do? As she sent them a narrow-eyed glare, they skittered away.
Dee strode toward the tree to get it over with. When she hung her snowflake on one of the upper branches, she realized there were too many lights in this section of the tree. She moved around to get a view from different angles.
Yeah. Definitely too many lights.
That wouldn’t do. Clearly, Tim’s assistant had no sense of aesthetics. She jerked the first misplaced light from its branch and repositioned it.
* * *
Austen grinned when the elevator doors parted and the sparkling snowflakes on the Christmas tree greeted her as she stepped into the lobby. Her first day at the new company was over, and it hadn’t been so bad after all. In fact, everything had gone great. Her new boss wasn’t an asshole; the team seemed pretty nice, and she’d done a good job with her first assignment—decorating the Christmas tree. What more could you wish for?
Speaking of wishes… She still had no idea what to put on her own snowflake. Maybe a more refined vocabulary for Toby. Or she could read a few of her colleagues’ wishes on her way out; that might give her an idea of what to write.
As she made her way across the lobby, another employee stepped up to the tree and hung her snowflake. Instead of then walking away, the woman began to reposition the lights on the upper branches none too gently.
What the…? The woman, clad in a pantsuit that hugged her shapely hips, definitely wasn’t part of the marketing department. Austen would have remembered a colleague with such a sexy ass. So what the hell is she doing rearranging my tree? She rolled her eyes at herself. My tree? Still, she couldn’t help feeling a little protective as she watched the stranger manhandle the tree.
