The Assistant: Emerald City Spies, #1

By Cheri Baker

 

They hired her to be an assistant. And they trained her to be a spy. But can Jessica survive the storms ahead?

High up in Seattle's most luxurious office tower a powerful woman conceals a dangerous secret. Dana Duke, the CEO of a prestigious staffing firm, offers exquisitely trained executive assistants to the city's business elite. Her assistants are brilliant, beautiful, young, and willing to do whatever it takes to advance the agency's interests. In return, they're offered pay and perks beyond their wildest dreams.

When Dana offers Jessica an orientation period at the agency, it seems her troubles might finally be over. But as the demands of the job become increasingly dangerous, and as the consequences of her work turn deadly, Jessica will be thrust into a maelstrom of danger and betrayal.

The Assistant is part one of the Emerald City Spies Trilogy

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adventurous Ink LLC
• Release date: Nov 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9780991081172

Cheri Baker

Cheri spent her formative years hiding under the blankets with a flashlight, reading everything she could get her hands on, but especially books by Stephen King, Judy Blume, Agatha Christie, and Mercedes Lackey. Her experiences in management inspired her first novel, Involuntary Turnover, about an HR manager turned private investigator. Cheri lives in Seattle with her husband of 18 years. She's working on her fourth novel.

Book preview

The Assistant

by

Cheri Baker

Emerald City Spies, Book 1

Published by Adventurous Ink, Seattle

Find all of Cheri’s books, her mailing list, and more at cheribaker.com.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First edition. November 12, 2018.

978-0-9910811-7-2

Copyright © 2018 Cheri Baker

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Adventurous Ink. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

Book design by Patrick Baker

Cover art by The Book Brander

The City

Let’s get one thing straight: Seattle doesn’t care about you.

Oh, we’ve got a reputation for being nice. A lie so old even the locals believe it. But our history speaks a sweeter truth. Seattle’s spirit was forged during the Klondike gold rush. We grew wealthy selling tents and food and sex to starry-eyed prospectors. And today? Different century, same game. Seattle’s always been a company town. We take someone with a vision — the profitable kind — and line up enough idealists to do the heavy lifting. They work cheap, and we’ve always had a knack for attracting them. Our city thrived on that system, and we’ll always thrive. We pushed gold, then wood, then airplanes, then software, then coffee, then websites that everyone laughed at. But who’s laughing now? Not us! Retail is dead, and houses here start at half a mil.

Progress is what we care about. Growth. Disruption. Change. A hundred years ago, when our hills dared be too tall, our businessmen ground the entire city into rubble, creating a platform upon which bigger and better things could grow. And if certain worthy individuals profit from a city’s transformation, from those cycles of destruction and re-creation, isn’t that only fair? After all, when we push out the old in favor of the new, and our smartest people grow richer, we honor a legacy that goes back to our very founding.

So tell us: What has your city done lately? Are you still waiting for your steel mill to rise from the dead? Or do you reminisce about the good old days while waiting for some smooth-talking politician to save you? Take some advice from the city that knows. Waiting is what kills you. Because winners don’t wait; they take.

Are you a winner? Come prove yourself in Seattle! Turn the wheel of commerce. Crush your competition. Destroy the powerful, relegating them to the past while you rise into glorious ascendancy. Take your seat at the table of power and protect it from those who would seize it next. But remember, only the boldest survive.

Look now, and see our dark emerald city. Rain falls steadily on Fourth Avenue, making the concrete shine beneath the streetlights. A young woman hurries on her way to a job interview, her nervous expression half-hidden beneath a crimson umbrella. When she reaches the base of a gleaming black tower she looks up, feeling a heady mix of excitement and fear. This is her moment. Success, her only option.

Sensing something kindred in Jessica Warne, Seattle opens its eyes.

Her, the city says. I choose her.

Jessica

01

Jessica Warne pushed the right side of the computer monitor back two inches, flipped open a handheld mirror to observe the area behind her desk, and cleared her throat. As if on cue, the woman in the other cubicle spun around. Her target was wearing a voluminous pink sweatshirt with a pug on the front and lipstick in a matching shade of pink. And if that wasn’t bad enough, her nostrils were flaring like those of a hunting dog. She squinted unhappily at Jessica’s work area, while Jessica kept the mirror in a discreet position, tilting it carefully to watch her coworker’s expression.

Woof woof, Jessica thought.

The woman’s mouth compressed into a thin line. Then she sighed dramatically and turned back around to mind her own business.

Jessica tucked her chin to hide a smirk. Now she could surf the web in peace. Sarah, the office snoop, traded intel for immunity like a low-level drug dealer trying to avoid hard time. And Mary, their supervisor, was too stupid to see she was being played, even though Sarah did very little work, preferring to focus on her true passions: gossip and surveillance.

Sarah was the current Employee of the Month, proving that good performance wasn’t what mattered to management. In the billing office, kudos went to the people who said the right words, kissed the right butts, and played the right games. It irritated Jessica at first, but awards were meaningless unless you admired the person offering them. Why covet a prize given out by morons?

But Jessica had developed strategies to protect herself from the petty and the stupid. It helped that she worked on a cheap computer monitor beneath even cheaper florescent lights. She could adjust the angle of the screen and let the glare from the lighting shield her activities from view. And now that Sarah couldn’t spy on her, she was free to do what she wanted. That felt like a victory, at first, but the sensation of triumph quickly faded, replaced with one of inescapable resignation.

With her college degree, outstanding references, and a high GPA, Jessica had high hopes for her future. She was going to become a C.P.A. and start her own business, but first she needed some corporate experience. But in the five months since graduating she’d learned nothing useful. She spent her days dodging the mean girls of the office and sweet-talking patients into paying their overdue medical bills. The pay was crap, and the team was somehow worse. Yet this was the best offer she’d received in months of interviewing.

The work was bad enough — any twelve-year-old could do it — but the way she was treated set her teeth on edge. Mary was constantly insulting her with upbeat little suggestions on how she should do things differently. None of these suggestions were helpful, instead they seemed to be about Mary’s desire to be seen as the boss. But leaving wasn’t an option, yet, and the situation wasn’t all bad. The paycheck covered groceries and half-rent in the one-bedroom apartment she shared with Taylor. It wasn’t much bigger than the dorm room they’d shared at Montana State, but it was in Pioneer Square and close to work. It was better to wait it out until she had at least a year of experience before looking for a new job. At least that’s what the career websites said.

Jessica dismissed her gloomy thoughts and pulled up a few travel websites. Andy wanted to go to Hawaii in the spring, and if she was careful, she’d be able to swing it. Andy was twenty-seven, with a steady job dispatching linemen for Seattle City Light, and he’d offered to buy both their tickets. You’ve got all those student loans, and I don’t, he reminded her. It’s no big deal. She smiled, thinking of Andy’s generous smile and dark curly hair. It was sweet of him to offer, but she’d pay her own way. It looked like Alaska Airlines was having a getaway sale. Now if only she could find a hotel for less than—

Footsteps. Familiar ones. Jessica struck a keyboard command with three fingers, quick as lightning, and an Excel spreadsheet sprung upward to cover her screen. While she waited for Mary to arrive, she checked the work she’d already checked twice. If she handed in her audits too quickly, she’d get in trouble again. Slow down, Mary had said during her first week on the job. You don’t want to make mistakes. There were no mistakes in Jessica’s work, but that wasn’t the point. Not to Mary.

Don’t work too fast!

Don’t work too slow!

Don’t use the internet for anything but work.

Clock in and out at a precise thirty minute interval for lunch, not twenty-seven minutes. Not thirty-three.

If I stay here six more months, Jessica thought, I might literally die.

Mary worked her way up the room, slowly, like a politician, dispensing criticisms instead of handshakes. The silver-rimmed clock high on one wall said it was nearly two. Three more hours until the end of the shift. Only three more hours, then Jessica could leave! She narrowed her eyes and willed the second hand of the clock to move faster. It refused to comply.

Taylor liked to remind Jessica how lucky she’d been to get a job with good benefits right out of college. But luck had little to do with it. She’d balanced coursework and two part-time jobs, graduating with honors. She’d hustled her way out of the system, with no safety net, and no parents to fall back on. Her efforts had won her a job all right, one where she spent nine hours in a cubicle, surrounded by people with the lowest of expectations. Was she supposed to be grateful? For this?

Mary was one cube over, talking to Letisha, too low to hear. Jessica blew out her breath and sat up straighter. She needed to stop whining, even in her own mind, because if she wasn’t careful she’d become just like the rest of them: bitter and rude, looking for someone younger to push around.

It was important to be realistic, she reminded herself. No matter how weary she was of taking orders from an under-moisturized college drop-out, she needed the money, and a good reference when she left this dump. Six more months, then she’d look for something better.

A brunette appeared in the entryway and flung one arm against the cube wall. Mary posed, her hips cocked one side and her ample bosom pushed forward. Was she trying to be imposing? Impressive? Her polyester suit fit poorly, the jacket gaping over her breasts while the lower button strained to hold her tummy in. Jessica, Mary blurted.

Jessica set her hands in her lap and swiveled to face her opponent. Hi Mary. What can I do for you? She waited with an attentive expression. This was a new strategy, and initial results were promising. By playing the role of the Good Employee, Jessica had reduced the number of visits from Mary by twenty percent.

Mary nodded her approval, bobbing her head up and down like a buoy on turbulent seas. I see you’re using our standard greeting for customer service. Well done. She whipped a pink file folder out from under one arm, opened it, and pulled out a single sheet of paper. Can you tell me what this is?

Was this some sort of test? Probably. Jessica responded in a pleasant voice. It’s a coupon for tacos.

I know what it is. Mary raised an over-plucked eyebrow. And I also know that you printed it. She reached up and scratched a few dry skin flakes off of her nose and wiped her hand on her trousers.

This woman was a veritable Miss Marple! What other tricks might rest up her shiny plastic sleeves? Yes, I did. Unable to resist a subtle jab, Jessica added, Would you like a copy?

Mary sighed. The expulsion of air from her lungs expressed a deep disappointment in her employee — no, in all of humanity. What I want, she said, emphasizing each word, is for you to stop using company resources for your personal enrichment. Capiche? She glanced skyward as if praying for patience. HR should have covered this at orientation. Now I have to waste my time retraining you. This isn’t your fault, exactly, I know you’re a Millennial and you haven’t been taught these things, but I have more important work to do.

Of course, if Mary had real work to do, she wouldn’t be the self-appointed coupon Nazi. And even worse, she was a hypocrite. That gave Jessica an idea. She formed her face into a contrite expression and said, I’m very sorry, Mary. I wasn’t aware of the rule. We’re not supposed to use the printer for personal use?

Mary pursed her lips. No. It’s a company resource. One of our values is Stewardship. Do you know what that means?

I do.

Good. Let’s be good stewards of hospital resources. No wasting time or money. Mary’s scowl relaxed into a smile and her arms fell loosely at her side. She looked like she’d just had a really satisfying lay. Then she shifted her weight and took a step back, preparing to leave.

Jessica was ready. One more question, please. Are the rules the same for everyone?

Mary stopped. Of course! It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.

Jessica smiled sweetly. Thanks for the feedback. I promise to take it to heart. Say, I was wondering, what’s the name of that cute little dog of yours? I saw those new pictures you hung up in your cube. He’s adorable.

His name is— Mary stopped mid-sentence.

Wait for it, Jessica thought.

Mary scowled. Her cheeks darkened in an ugly blush, and her mouth opened. But no sound came out.

I think I can smell the smoke from the gears. Jessica waved her hand dismissively, Oh, never mind. I don’t want to waste company time with chit-chat. I’ll ask you on break, okay?

Mary took two steps back, now she was almost inside Sarah’s cube. Her gaze flicked away; she spoke without making eye contact. Yes, let’s stay on task. I’ll see you at the staff meeting. Don’t be late.

Jessica waited until she was gone, then pulled her web browser back up, humming softly beneath her breath. Mary was obtuse, but she’d gotten the message. Now she’ll think twice before she—

I don’t know why you antagonize her. A chair squeaked, and a moment later a woman in her early fifties came into Jessica’s space. Letisha leaned against one edge of the U-shaped desk and loosened the Velcro on her black wrist brace. She stretched her forearm muscles and wiggled her fingers before shooting Jessica a disapproving look.

I wasn’t trying to, Jessica replied, speaking quietly. But I won’t be pushed around either. If she wants to be my boss, that’s great. But if so, she should help me instead of wasting my time.

Child, Letisha said, "she isn’t trying to be your boss, she is your boss. She shook her head. I know it’s a hard thing for you young people to learn, but staying employed means keeping the boss happy, even when they are…"

Morons? Jessica muttered.

Inexperienced, Letisha said, with a hint of a smile.

Oh, come on! She spends half the day printing color photos of her dog, and then she busts my balls for a coupon. One freakin’ coupon! What did that cost? Five cents? I’ll drop off a nickel before I go home.

Letisha shrugged. Look, Mary’s been a supervisor for six months. We had a bunch of people quit, and she stepped up, even though she’s never done this before. Why don’t you cut her a little slack?

Jessica wanted to argue, but not with Letisha. Unlike the rest of the billers, she’d been nothing but helpful, patiently answering questions even when she had her own work to do. Letisha didn’t talk down to people, no matter how new they were. I hear you. And I’ll try. But haven’t you ever printed something at work?

Oh, Lord no! Letisha’s eyes widened.

Why? Because it’s against the rules?

Nah. No one’s gonna fire me over something that small. I’ve been here a long time, hon, and I’ve got a track record. Still, I don’t print personal stuff because I don’t want everyone knowing my business. She smiled. Now, because you’ve been so careless, Mary knows where the two-for-one tacos are. And who doesn’t love themselves some tacos? You might show up at happy hour and have Mary roll right up to your table to say hello.

Jessica cracked a smile. That’s just mean.

Letisha adjusted her brace, lining up the fasteners for a tight fit. Hang in there, kid. Adjusting to the daily grind takes time. But remember, they don’t call it a job because it’s fun.

I’m trying. But did you hear her yesterday? She lectured me for twenty minutes because I didn’t say have a nice day at the end of a phone call. My sign-off was great, by the way. The customer was happy, and she settled her bill. But Mary chewed me out for not copying her wording like a freaking robot. Have a nice day? Come on! Who talks like that?

Letisha crossed her arms and waited with the expression of a parent letting a fractious child tire herself out. Jessica noticed the laugh lines around her mouth, and the hint of silver at her temples. She’d worked at the hospital for a long time.

How do you do it? Jessica asked.

Do what?

Stay here for years and years without losing your mind. Don’t you ever look around and — I don’t know — feel like you’re back in middle school?

Well, I don’t let it get to me, because I can’t. I’ve got three important reasons to be here: Marybeth, Samuel, and Johnny. Who will take care of my family if I don’t keep my job? Who will pay for their doctor visits, and for their school uniforms, and everything else? I take it you don’t have anyone at home counting on you?

Jessica shook her head.

Well, when you do, you’ll see that a steady paycheck is a big deal. She smiled warmly at Jessica. Give it time is all I’m saying. If you still hate this work after a year, look for a transfer. A hospital has lots of jobs for different personalities. You might not be the customer service type.

She had a point. Jessica had been happier in school, even when she was stretched too thin. Medical billing was an easy job, but perhaps that was part of the problem. Her coworkers didn’t seem to care about trying new things or pushing themselves to be better. They worked half-heartedly until five then ran home to watch TV. And that wasn’t the life she wanted.

Letisha was looking at her, waiting for a response.

You know, I wish you were my supervisor, Jessica said. Why didn’t you apply for that promotion?

She laughed. That’s nice of you to say, Jess, but when I leave at five, I don’t bring my job home with me. How many managers can say that?

In the distance, a bell rang. Five minutes until the staff meeting. Letisha returned to her cubicle and Jessica felt a stab of guilt. Was she being too hard on Mary? Possibly. After all, it wasn’t Mary’s fault she was an idiot. An image of Letisha’s disapproving face came to mind. It isn’t Mary’s fault that she’s inexperienced, Jessica thought, forcing herself to use a different phrase. Perhaps it was time to extend an olive branch, to smooth over any hard feelings about the printer thing.

Fortunately, Jessica had the perfect plan. She’d figured out how to speed up the monthly audit by a week. Instead of waiting for her next one-on-one with Mary, she’d announce her innovation in front of the team and give Mary all the credit. Once Mary saw that Jessica was on her side, she’d be nicer. And it wouldn’t be a bad thing for the rest of the department to see what she could do. It was time her coworkers showed her the teensiest bit of respect.

Jessica pulled up the travel website she’d been perusing. Her finger hovered over the print button, but she closed the browser down, resolving to try a little harder to fit in. All around her, the members of the billing department were standing up and moving towards the conference room for the meeting. She followed them inside, ready to shine.

02

Sarah and Betty were blocking the main aisle in the conference room, standing face to face. Betty was a decade younger than Sarah, but they were cut from the same cloth. Betty had recently taken to copying Sarah’s sweatshirt and ugly slacks look, although Betty’s sweatshirt had a spray of pastel flowers across the front instead of a photo of a dog. They steadfastly ignored the stream of coworkers trying to get inside the room to find seats for the meeting. The conference room had three big whiteboards, like a classroom, and two rectangular groupings of hard plastic chairs facing the front. An aisle ran up the center of the room, and those two stood there, the human equivalent of a hairy clog in a sink drain. The stream of employees split and flowed around the narrow edges of the room, seeking ingress.

Zoë applied for the promotion, Sarah was saying to Betty in a whisper loud enough to carry across the room. When she was passed over, she cried in the bathroom. She said it was just PMS, but we know better. First she got passed over for the supervisor position, and then the lead job too. Obviously she’s devastated.

On the far side of the room, Zoë sat alone in a blue plastic chair, her ears pink, and her face a picture of quiet misery.

Betty responded, I heard that—

Excuse me. Jessica said in a too-loud voice, turning sideways to slip between the two women, forcing them apart. She glanced at Zoë, not bothering to suppress the annoyance surging beneath her breastbone. Sarah might be a bully, but Zoë wasn’t helping matters by sitting there and taking it. Why didn’t she stand up for herself?

The managers were worse than useless. They could probably hear every word from their huddle at the front of the room, but they chose to do nothing. Anger blossomed in Jessica’s belly, but she tamped it down, hard. This wasn’t the moment for a confrontation. She had a job of her own to do. She kept moving until she found an empty seat in the third row. Mary was up front with a clipboard resting on one knee. As if sensing Jessica’s gaze she turned and shot her an ugly look. Not the best sign, but she’d come around. Especially after she got all the credit for Jessica’s idea. Mary loved getting credit for things. She might even have an orgasm, right there in her chair, in front of everyone.

Be nice, Jessica reminded herself. If you