Marry in Haste

“I’m on my way back to Mr. Laird’s office. He has a meeting at ten and wants files pulled to study before then. Details are in my notes.”

Barbara pried the plastic cover off her coffee cup. “I’ll take care of it.”

Glad the challenge to her authority had come and gone quickly, Abby hurried back to Parker’s office. Outside, she drew several deep breaths so she wouldn’t arrive panting at his desk.

Parker was facing the windows as he spoke on the phone when Abby unobtrusively took her seat by the desk.

“Yes, Ian.”

This would be the eight-thirty call to Aberdeen. Abby remembered her vow to have something to occupy herself. Of course, she didn’t, so she studied the schedule, breaking down the tasks and assigning them to either Barbara or Nancy. She finished in three minutes, but pretended she hadn’t.

She would not look in the glass.

As she worked, her skin prickled. He’s looking at me.

But that was ridiculous. He wasn’t looking looking. He was probably simply staring blankly as he concentrated on his telephone call.

From her experience with Valerie this past week, Abby had learned that Parker liked to jot notes immediately after a telephone call, so when he disconnected the call, she remained quiet.

He scribbled a line or two, then looked toward her with a raised eyebrow.

She stood. “Here’s the schedule, Mr. Laird.”

“Call me Parker, Abby,” he said, taking it from her.

Call him Parker? Abby’s mouth worked, but nothing came out.

He glanced up at her.

“A-all right, Mr. Laird.”

“Parker.”

“All right, Mr. Parker.”

He blinked once, then said, “When you call me Parker, you get to drop the Mr.”

“Yes, sir.”

His brow furrowed. “It bothers you to use my name?”

Bother wasn’t the right word. Maybe uncomfortable was, but she didn’t want to admit to it. “Valerie always calls you Mr. Laird, so I’m used to it.”

He nodded. “Valerie has called me Mr. Laird since I was thirteen years old. I cannot break her of the habit. If it helps, think of Parker as a more efficient use of time. Only two syllables to say.”

Was he making a joke? “Yes, sir.”

He gave her a long look before saying dryly, “Sir would, of course, be most efficient of all.” Turning his attention to the schedule she’d set on his desk, he glanced through it. “The meeting at ten is informal and I don’t anticipate it lasting more than an hour. However—” he stopped and made a note “—my brother will be with us, and Jay is notoriously unpredictable, so we might stretch to lunch. I want you to be prepared to order sandwiches—that sort of thing. Valerie uses the deli down the street.” He waved his hand. “They make an assortment platter that’s worked well in the past.”

Abby knew what he was talking about. She’d called in the order before. “Yes, sir—Parker.”

“Abby?”

She looked up and met his gray gaze.

“Parker,” he murmured. “Just Parker.”

Nodding, she repeated, “Just Parker.” Parker, Parker, Parker, she drilled into her mind. What was the matter with her? By asking her to call him Parker, he was trying to put her at ease and she’d turned it into something awkward instead of just calling him by his name.

During the next ten minutes, Abby avoided calling him anything at all. “I’ll be back with the files,” she informed him when they’d finished, but he’d already turned his attention to the next event on his schedule.

Fortunately, Barbara had put the files he wanted on her desk. By the time Abby delivered them, Nancy had arrived and both women were ready for their next assignments. Abby showed them the schedule and the tasks, and without complaint or comment, they started working.

She sat down to catch her breath. She was refastening the barrette that clipped the hair at the back of her neck when the interoffice messenger wheeled in a dolly with two black boxes containing the morning’s correspondence, reports, messages, requests and memos.

It was the Executive Assistant’s job to sort through everything and decide what deserved Mr. Laird‘s—Parker’s—personal attention and what could be handled by the staff.

She’d just reached for the brown routing envelope on top when the staff telephone started ringing. With resignation, she waited for the buzz on her phone.

Without a doubt, this first phone call would be some earth-shattering problem that she was illequipped to deal with. She dropped her head to her desk, and when the phone buzzed, it sounded loud in her ear.

“Peter Frostwood on line one,” intoned Nancy. She’d drawn first receptionist duty.

Peter Frostwood was the head of Laird North America. Of course. Hadn’t she expected as much?

“Abigail Monroe,” she said.

There was a brief silence. “I asked for Valerie.”

“I’m Acting Executive Assistant while Ms. Chippin is away,” Abby reminded him. There had been a memo sent to all department heads. She’d typed it herself.

“Tell Parker I need to see him ASAP.”

This was where it got tricky. Abby had to decide, without knowing if Peter Frostwood was the alarmist type, whether to interrupt Parker’s preparations for the meeting or give him the message at their noontime conference. Asking a highly-placed executive to explain himself was presumptuous. Interrupting Parker for every little thing defeated the whole purpose of an executive assistant.

“Mr. Laird is preparing for a meeting at ten o’clock and his schedule for the day is booked,” she explained. “Shall I put you through to discuss a time when it will be convenient for you to see him?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Abby buzzed Parker. If he objected to the interruption, he’d tell her. “Peter Frostwood needs to speak with you.”

“Okay.”

And that was all. She’d chosen correctly. This time.

Abby eyed the two full boxes. She’d gone through similar boxes with Valerie last week and knew there would be another load delivered in the afternoon.

As Valerie had taught her, Abby culled the papers into those requiring action, signature, and information. Valerie ranked the action items, but Abby didn’t feel capable yet. The production reports, long tedious pages of numbers, were to be entered into a spreadsheet program. That had frequently been Abby’s job and she was delighted to assign it to Nancy.