When I Stopped Waiting

Episode Five

Chapter 5

The New Assistant

By ten o’clock, everyone on the president’s office floor knew a new assistant was coming.

Not because Human Resources had announced it loudly.

They would never do something so tasteless.

But because in a company like Yale Group, information moved faster when people pretended not to spread it.

By ten fifteen, the assistants from the finance department had already passed by twice for no reason. By ten twenty, Shane had gone to the pantry and returned with the expression of someone carrying boiling gossip in his mouth.

At ten thirty, he leaned against the edge of my desk with a folder in his hands.

“So,” he said casually, far too casually, “the new assistant.”

I did not look up from the onboarding schedule.

“Yes.”

“Do we know anything about her?”

“Her name is Dakota Lane.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all HR sent.”

“No previous assistant experience?”

“Not listed.”

“No corporate background?”

“Not listed.”

Shane lowered his voice.

“Mia.”

I finally looked at him.

He glanced towards Charles’s closed office door, then back at me.

“Then why would someone like that be appointed to the president’s office?”

I turned a page.

“Because Human Resources approved it.”

“Mia.”

I placed the schedule down.

“Because Mr Charles approved it.”

Shane’s mouth closed.

That was the part no one knew how to discuss.

The president’s office was not a place where people came to learn slowly. Charles hated inefficiency. He hated carelessness. He hated mistakes most of all when they arrived wrapped in excuses.

At least, that was what I had believed.

I signed the onboarding acknowledgement and placed it in the outgoing tray.

“Prepare a spare access card and have IT set up her account. Give her limited access first. I’ll review permissions after I see what she can handle.”

Shane nodded, but his expression remained uneasy.

“Are you all right with this?”

I smiled.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He looked as though he wanted to answer.

Then the private lift chimed.

The doors opened.

A young woman stepped out with someone from Human Resources beside her.

Dakota Lane was easy to notice.

Not because she was dressed loudly. In fact, her pale blue blouse and white skirt were simple, almost soft. But there was a brightness to her that did not quite belong on the president’s office floor. Her hair fell over her shoulders in loose waves. Her eyes were clear and quick, moving from the reception desk to the glass walls, then to the closed door of Charles’s office.

She looked nervous.

She also looked hopeful.

There was something lovely about her in the way young girls sometimes were lovely before the world taught them how much to hide.

When she saw me, she immediately smiled.

“Miss Bennet?”

“Yes.”

She walked over quickly, then stopped as if afraid she had come too close.

“I’m Dakota Lane. Thank you so much for guiding me from today onwards. I know I have a lot to learn.”

Her voice was clear and sweet.

I had seen many newcomers try to sound modest on their first day. Some managed it. Most only managed fear.

Dakota seemed sincere.

That made things more troublesome.

I stood and held out my hand.

“Welcome to the president’s office, Ms Lane.”

She shook my hand with both of hers.

Her fingers were slightly cold.

“Please call me Dakota. Ms Lane sounds too serious.”

Shane coughed behind his folder.

I pretended not to hear.

“Then you may call me Mia.”

Dakota’s eyes brightened.

“All right, Mia.”

The door to Charles’s office opened.

Everyone straightened almost at once.

Charles stepped out with his phone in one hand and a document in the other. His gaze swept over the office, cold and direct, until it landed on Dakota.

Then it paused.

Only for a moment.

But I noticed.

Dakota noticed too. Her cheeks coloured faintly, and she gave a small, uncertain smile.

“Good morning, Mr Yale.”

Charles looked at her.

His expression was still calm, but the sharpness in his eyes seemed to ease by a fraction.

“Dakota Lane?”

“Yes.”

“You’re late.”

Her smile froze.

The HR employee beside her immediately paled.

I checked the time.

Ten thirty-two.

Technically, she was two minutes late.

Dakota lowered her head quickly.

“I’m sorry. I got off on the wrong floor and couldn’t find the private lift. It won’t happen again.”

On any other day, with any other person, Charles would have said, Then make sure it doesn’t.

Or worse, nothing at all.

Silence from Charles was often colder than reprimand.

But today, he only looked at Dakota for another second.

Then he said, “First day. Pay attention next time.”

Dakota looked up.

The relief on her face was almost impossible to hide.

“Yes, Mr Yale. Thank you.”

Charles’s gaze lingered on her a little longer.

Then, very faintly, the corner of his mouth moved.

It was not quite a smile.

But I had spent ten years learning the weather of his face.

It was close enough.

The office was quiet.

Too quiet.

Charles turned to me.

“Mia.”

“Yes, Mr Charles.”

“Have her familiar with the reception banquet guest list by this afternoon.”

“I will.”

“And bring me the Henderson file.”

“Yes.”

He went back into his office.

The door closed.

The whole floor breathed again.

Dakota pressed a hand over her chest and let out a tiny sigh.

“I thought I was finished.”

Shane gave a strangled laugh.

“If it helps, most people don’t survive being late by two minutes.”

Dakota looked frightened.

I shot Shane a warning glance.

He immediately became fascinated by the folder in his hands.

“It’s fine,” I said to Dakota. “Mr Charles values punctuality, but he won’t hold one mistake against you if you correct it quickly.”

That was a lie.

Or perhaps it had only been true for some people.

Dakota nodded seriously, as though I had handed her a secret manual to surviving a natural disaster.

“I’ll remember.”

I led her to the empty desk beside mine.

It had been cleared that morning.

A computer. A phone. A notebook. A small vase with no flowers. Everything new, polished, waiting.

Dakota sat down and touched the edge of the notebook with careful fingers.

“I didn’t expect to be placed so close to Mr Yale’s office.”

“This position requires immediate response.”

“I understand.”

“Your first priority is learning his schedule, communication preferences, and document flow. Do not send anything directly to him unless I’ve reviewed it first. Do not interrupt him during calls unless the matter is urgent. If you’re unsure whether something is urgent, ask me.”

Dakota picked up her pen and began writing quickly.

“What counts as urgent?”

“Board issues. Legal deadlines. Family matters. Anything involving Old Mr Yale. Anything involving West City. Anything from Henderson before tomorrow.”

She wrote so fast the pen almost slipped.

I continued, “Coffee is delivered at fixed times unless he asks otherwise. Black, no sugar. Temperature matters.”

Dakota looked up, startled.

“Temperature?”

“Yes.”

“How exact?”

“Exact enough.”

Her expression turned solemn.

I almost softened.

Then Charles’s intercom lit up.

“Mia.”

I pressed the button.

“Yes, Mr Charles.”

“The Henderson file.”

“Coming.”

I stood.

Dakota rose at once too.

I looked at her.

“You don’t need to stand every time I do.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

She sat down quickly, then knocked her knee against the desk.

A pen rolled off and fell to the floor.

Shane bent down to pick it up before she could.

“First morning,” he whispered kindly. “No one has fainted yet, so you’re ahead of several managers.”

Dakota laughed.

It was a small sound, nervous but bright.

I carried the Henderson file into Charles’s office.

He was standing by the window, reading an email on his phone.

“She seems easily startled,” he said.

I placed the file on his desk.

“She’s new.”

Charles looked up.

There was something faintly thoughtful in his gaze.

“Don’t scare her.”

For a moment, I did not answer.

Then I smiled.

“Of course.”

He lowered his eyes back to his phone.

“I mean it.”

The words were quiet.

Almost casual.

But they struck harder than they should have.

I had trained new assistants before. Charles had never once cared whether I frightened them. If anything, he preferred fear. Fear made people careful. Fear made people fast.

But Dakota’s nervousness required protection.

Mine had always required discipline.

“I’ll be patient,” I said.

Charles seemed satisfied.

“You’re good at training people.”

That was true.

I had trained half the people who now relied on me to keep Charles from ruining their lives before lunch.

But this time, the compliment did not warm me.

I left his office and returned to Dakota.

For the next hour, I taught her the basics.

How Charles liked meeting files arranged.

Which directors were not to be seated beside each other.

Which clients needed formal titles even in casual emails.

Which numbers had to be checked twice.

Which questions Charles would consider stupid, though I phrased that last part as “questions best clarified before entering his office”.

Dakota listened carefully.

She asked many questions.

Some were useful.

Some were not.

At eleven forty, I asked her to print the updated reception banquet guest list.

She printed the wrong version.

Not only the wrong version.

The very first draft.

The one with two hostile directors seated at the same table and a misspelt ambassador’s name on page one.

I looked at the printout.

Dakota stood beside me, her face slowly losing colour.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought the latest file would be at the top.”