Tessa's Wishes (Whispered Wishes #3) Read Free

meant she had to be rushing and therefore was obviously not doing a good enough job.
    Added to that, Mr. Abbott was in a bad mood, again, and his moods seemed to be getting worse. This wasn’t the first time he’d thrown the binder back to her, but usually she had a day or so to let him simmer down. She’d tweak some of the formats and colors in her charts, careful not to disturb any of the actual calculations, and present it all back to him … during her regular working hours. He’d give her some line about how if she got the numbers right the first time, she wouldn’t have had to redo everything. She’d smile, say, “Yes, sir,” and be on her way.  Tessa could handle that routine. That routine didn’t take her away from her time with Sophie. Lately, however, he seemed to get a kick out of making her work late. Him and his damn ego—did he really think he could push her around like that? Apparently so, as here she was working past six o’clock yet again.
    Having done all of the usual insignificant changes, she pondered just how long she should sit in her office, pretending to work before printing out the new reports for her boss. Judging by his current phone conversation, she’d have to add a few minutes to let him cool off before approaching him.
    “I don’t give a rat’s ass. I’m tired of your excuses. Either get the job done, or I’ll find someone who can.”
    She cringed as she listened to his temper tantrum through her office walls. At least he’d moved on to screaming at someone else. Wondering who it was and what they’d done to piss him off, she settled back into her chair and closed her eyes, blocking out the sounds and grateful for a moment of reprieve. Ava had most likely picked Sophie up already. If she left in the next twenty minutes, she could probably get her daughter before they started eating dinner.
    “Tessa!”
    Startled, she sat up straight. Her boss stood in her doorway, looking annoyed as usual.
    “I’m not paying you to sleep on the job.”
    “I’m not sleeping, sir, I was just—”
    “Save it. I’m heading out for the night. I expect those reports to be fixed and on my desk when I return in the morning. I’m meeting with Nicholas first thing in the morning. If he’s not happy, I’m not happy. Do you know what happens if I’m not happy?”
    “Then I won’t be happy?” she meekly asked.
    “I don’t pay you to be happy. I pay you to work. Get it? Lock up when you leave.”
    His eyes, already small and full of anger, shrunk even more as he squinted into a purposeful glare, before sharply turning away. Without another word he was gone. The front door to Abbott and Associates slammed shut behind him on his way out.
    “Actually,” she muttered, “you’re not paying me at all at the moment, since I get the same salary whether I leave at five or work all night long. Lord knows you’re too cheap to give me any overtime.”
    Through her window she watched as his over-priced, mid-life crisis sports car raced out of the parking lot. What made Nicholas Schilling so special anyway? He was just some stodgy old businessman who happened to have a lot of money. So much money, in fact, that he paid an outrageous sum for her firm to keep track of it all. She could keep track of her own funds in about sixty seconds flat. Big deal. Money wasn’t everything. She clicked print to get the reports started.
    Sitting at her desk as the paper started to feed through the machine, she felt even more hostile toward this man she’d never met. Rich old bastard. The quarterly meetings were always held at his office in the city or some other fancy locale. He was apparently far too important and busy to come out to Forest Hills. Mr. Abbott didn’t seem to mind and always made it a point to bring Schilling’s favorite scotch and cigars with him. Scotch and cigars for a nine a.m. meeting? Nasty. Thankfully, she wasn’t ever asked to attend. She wanted no part of their snooty boy’s club