His lips quirk. “Need help with that?”
The idea of Mr. Akopov carrying my sad little box of ficuses raised on fluorescent lights and lukewarm bottled water is so absurd that I actually snort.
His eyebrow arches at the sound.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “No, thank you. I’ve got it.”
“Very well.” He checks his watch. “Diane will walk you through the calendar. We have the Nakamura meeting at eleven.”
“You’ll take notes.” He walks away without another word, leaving me staring after him like an i***t.
When I return to my new desk, Diane is giving me a look that somehow combines pity with contempt without dimming the light of either emotion.
“You have ten minutes to learn the calendar system before your first meeting,” she announces.
She’s really making my drill sergeant assessment look spookily
