NOT YOUR GIRL

Chapter 3

The next morning, I find a message from Elena waiting on my phone.

Call me before noon, please. It’s important.

I read it once while the elevator climbs, then again when the doors open on forty-two. I still don’t call. I don’t know why I keep putting it off despite the obvious urgency. Damien has a full schedule, the office is already moving, and I tell myself I can make the call during lunch.

That’s how I end up with a lunch order for twelve.

Lana Hayes arrives at nine with a photographer, two assistants, a makeup artist, and enough garment bags to fill the reception area. She steps off the elevator in oversized sunglasses and a cream coat that looks soft enough to sleep in.

“Damien’s ready for me?” she asks Nora.

Nora glances at the schedule. “He’s finishing a call.”

Lana slides her sunglasses down and looks past Nora at me. “Could you get someone to take these?”

She holds out her coat.

I’m carrying a stack of folders. “There’s a coat rack by the conference room.”

For a second, she just looks at me. Then she drops the coat over Nora’s desk chair and keeps walking.

Her team follows. One of the assistants bumps the folders in my arms and doesn’t notice. A page slips onto the floor.

I crouch to pick it up.

“Eva,” Damien calls from his office.

I straighten. “Yes?”

“Can you make sure the crew has what they need?”

“Sure.”

Lana steps into his office. “You’re still making everyone else do the work?”

Damien laughs. “Someone has to keep the place running.”

Her laugh is bright and practiced. The door closes behind them.

Nora gives me a sympathetic look. “You’re better than me.”

“At what?”

“Not throwing a folder at her.”

I can’t help but laugh as I slide the papers back into order. “I have a very good aim.”

Nora grins. “That’s the spirit.”

The magazine shoot is for a business issue about people who have built their own brands. Lana is there to talk about her skincare line, though most of the crew seems more interested in photographing her beside Damien. They have a history. Everyone in the building knows it, even if no one says much.

I check the conference room and find the crew setting up lights in front of the windows. The photographer asks for a power outlet. The makeup artist wants a mirror. Someone needs still water, not sparkling. I make calls, track down an extension cord, and ask the building staff to bring up a mirror.

Then Lana walks in wearing a green dress and stops beside the table where I’ve laid out the campaign paperwork.

“Is this where I sign?” she asks.

“The forms are for the campaign team. The release is on top.”

She picks it up without reading. “You’re the assistant, right?”

“I handle Damien’s schedule and office support.” I answer as calmly as possible.

“So, assistant.” She passes me the page. “Can you take care of it?”

“I can get it to the campaign team.” I say between clenched teeth.

“Great.”

She turns toward the photographer and lifts her chin. The camera clicks. Damien watches from near the windows. He says something I can’t hear, and Lana laughs.

I put the release back on the table.

The campaign folder is open beneath it. There’s a printed schedule, a list of social posts, and the press release for Lana’s skincare launch. I only look because the date catches my eye.

The release says the product launch is Thursday, May 18.

I frown. May 18 is a Friday.

I check the campaign calendar on my tablet. The launch is set for Thursday, May 17. I open the email chain attached to the paperwork. The first draft has the correct date. The most recent version has May 18, with no note explaining the change.

The magazine shoot is not the launch itself, but the press release is meant to go out this afternoon. If the date is wrong, reporters and retailers could show up a day late. I check the product team’s calendar. Their launch event is definitely on the seventeenth.

I take the folder to the campaign lead, a woman named Beth who has been running between the photographer and Lana’s team all morning.

“Do you know which date is final?” I ask.

She takes the release. “Thursday the seventeenth.”

“This says the eighteenth.”

Her eyes move over the page. “Who changed it?”

“I don’t know. The earlier draft has the seventeenth.”

Beth checks her tablet, then turns to one of the assistants. “Did the agency send a new version?”

The assistant searches her email. “No. This one came from Lana’s team.”

Lana is in front of the camera now. She tilts her head, one hand resting on the table. Damien stands beside the photographer and says something that makes her laugh again.

Beth lowers her voice. “Can you replace the file before it goes to the press list? I’ll confirm with the product team.”

“Of course.”

I return to my desk and open the shared folder. The release is scheduled to send at three. I change the date, save a fresh copy, and send it to Beth for approval. Then I check the social posts. The same wrong date appears in two captions.

I fix those too.

A few minutes later, Lana comes out of the conference room and reaches for a bottle of water. She glances at the papers in my hand.

“Still working on those?”

“The launch date was wrong. I’m checking the rest of the materials.”

She unscrews the cap. “It’s just a date.”

“It’s the date people will use to decide when to show up.”

She looks at me over the bottle. “You take everything so seriously.”

“I try to get it right.”

A smile touches her mouth. “That must be tiring.”

“Sometimes.” I say under my breath.

She takes a drink and turns away.

I check the press release one more time. The correct date is there now. Beth confirms it with the product team and sends the approved version to the press list. At three, the email goes out without a problem.

By then, the shoot is almost over. The crew packs cameras and lights while Lana changes back into her coat. Damien walks her to the elevator.

“You were great,” he tells her.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”

“I’m not.”

They laugh. Again.

Lana turns toward me before she steps into the elevator. “You’ll send the final paperwork to my assistant?”

“I’ll send it to the campaign team.”

“Whatever works.”

The elevator doors close.

Damien returns to his office and passes my desk. “Could you order lunch for the crew? They’re staying to finish the edits.”

“They’ve already wrapped.”

“The photographer asked to review the selects here.”

I look toward the conference room. Two crew members are packing up their gear. “I’ll check with Beth.”

He’s already moving. “Order sandwiches. Nothing too heavy.”

I open the food app and place the order.

My phone buzzes beside the keyboard. Elena’s name appears on the screen. I pick it up, then stop when Damien comes back out.

“Did you find the Westbridge amendment?” he asks.

“I sent it to your office.”

He glances at the phone in my hand. “Are you busy?”

“I was about to make a call.”

“Can it wait? I need you to confirm the lunch order.”

The phone keeps buzzing against my palm. I silence it.

“Sure,” I say.

I check the order and confirm the delivery time. When I look at my phone again, there are two missed calls and a new text.

Elena: Charles is at the lawyer’s office. He says he has a right to see the will.

I sit very still.

A second message arrives.

Elena: He knows your name is in it. He’s asking what you were left.