(Rebecca's POV)
Tuesday.
I pick up the red pen and draw a line through the circle. One down. Two to go.
The office is quiet this morning. Half the floor is in a meeting I wasn't invited to, which is normal. The other half is at lunch, which is early. I don't mind. Quiet is good. Quiet means nobody asks me to fix the printer, or unjam the copier, or explain for the fourth time how to merge cells in a spreadsheet.
I organize Sean's inbox, because the temp Alexander hired to shadow me can't seem to understand that Sean wants client emails sorted by priority, not by date. I flag three that need responses by end of day. I update the meeting notes from Friday. I print the contracts for the Whitfield deal, double-sided, stapled in the upper left corner, because Sean hates right-corner staples
