Before I Ever Met You

I wait a few moments, getting my bearings, before I stand up and head to the door, the dogs watching my every move. I open the door and poke my head out.

The office is bustling, though not as frantically as one would think. That’s the difference I’ve found so far between the animators here and the visual effects crew in LA. The animators are lazy as fuck, half of them looking stoned at all hours of the day. They get the work done, but not as quick as I would like, or Warner Brothers would like, and unfortunately I’m the one who hears about it.

Jackie is sitting across from me at her desk, her side to me, frowning at the desktop computer and repeatedly clicking on the mouse.

“Never used a Mac before?” I ask her, leaning against the doorway.

She looks over at me, her lips twisting together sheepishly. “How can you tell?”

“Just a guess. How was the tour? Alyssa being good to you?”

She nods. “It was informative.”

“Did she tell you the astrological signs of everyone, their salary, and how much they weigh?”

She smiles, close-lipped. Damn. Her cheeks are something else. “Pretty much. She may have told me how often they use the bathroom too.”

I stare at her for a moment.

“I’m so sorry,” she says quickly, going a shade of red. “I should probably avoid toilet humor first day on the job. I keep forgetting you’re my boss.”

“If it makes you feel better, I keep forgetting you’re my assistant.”

I meant it as a joke but I can see the lines appearing on her smooth forehead. What Ted said runs through my mind. The last thing I want is for her to feel insecure here.

“Well,” I say, “since you’ve had the grand tour, how about we go over the job. I have to admit, I’m not used to having an assistant so I’m not really sure if I’m doing the right thing or not . . . what that even is. So, with that in mind, how about I get you up to speed . . . while we walk the dogs.”

Her eyes brighten. “Sure. Whatever you like.” She gets up and I glance down at her shoes, grey kitten heels that only add an inch to her height, making her 5’4” at most.

“Are you going to be okay to walk in those?” Granted, Sasha used to wear ones that would put her at 6’2”—my height—with complete ease. She would have slept in them if she could have. All the better for jabbing me in the middle of the night, preferably near the heart.

She shrugs. “I’m more at home in a pair of boots, but I can handle it.” While she grabs her jacket, I get the dogs on their leashes, making sure I grab a spare umbrella from reception on the way out.

Tiffany, the receptionist, gives me one of her patented withering looks as I do so, and I open the door for Jackie as we step out onto the street.

“What was with that look?” Jackie asks me as I hand her Sprocket’s leash. She takes it without second thought. Good girl.

“She finds it amusing that I grab an umbrella every time I step outside.”

She glances up at the sky, wrinkles her nose. “It could rain at any minute.”

“She would give me the look even if it were a torrential downpour. A true Vancouverite doesn’t use an umbrella. They’re like ducks. The water just rolls right off them.”

“But you used to live here,” she says to me as we start walking down the street, Sprocket pulling her slightly ahead of me and Joanie. “Right?”

“Technically I was born on Vancouver Island, grew up in Victoria,” I tell her, realizing that just because she’s Ted’s daughter doesn’t mean she knows jack shit about me. That’s probably for the best. “But being in LA changes you. Did you know that back when The X-Files were filmed here, David Duchovny made production pack up and move to LA because of the rain? After eight seasons he just couldn’t handle it. Honestly, now that I’ve lived in LA, I don’t blame him. It’s nice to know what you’re going to get every day.”

“Well I think it’s pretty obvious what we get every day here,” she says, stopping as Sprocket sniffs along a bike rack. “Rain.”

“Look at us,” I tell her, feeling strangely pleased. “We’re standing here, talking about the weather. It’s like we never left Vancouver to begin with.”

She gives me a small smile and looks off. I probably sound like a tool.

“Anyway,” I continue smoothly, “I have to say I prefer the sunshine to the doom and gloom.”

“So why did you move?”

I eye her carefully. Surely Alyssa told her, probably along with my social security number.

But she’s staring at me with an open expression, sucking her lower lip in such a manner that a thread of heat works its way into my chest. I wish she wouldn’t do that, and yet I can’t seem to look away.

I clear my throat. “Sasha and I, I’m not sure if you remember her, we got divorced. I tried to tough it out but, you know we worked together and it was either she went or I went. And she wasn’t going anywhere.”

She nods. “So you’re not really here by choice.”

“No,” I say slowly, pulling Joanie’s head away from a pile of shit on the sidewalk. “It was my choice. Not necessarily one I wanted to make . . .”

Fuck. What am I doing? This sort of personal business probably shouldn’t be discussed with my assistant. What we should be discussing is just what the hell she’s supposed to do for me.

I can think of a few things.

The thought flashes across my mind and I wince internally, hating myself for thinking it. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong.

I need to behave.

Luckily I have the gentleman thing down pat.

I clear my throat again. She probably thinks I’ve got a cold at this point.

“So, I think the best place for us to start is to find out what your father told you about the job. What you know about Mad Men Studios. What we do.”

She tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and I didn’t realize until now that my fingers were itching to do it for her. “Well, honestly, I don’t know much. My father and I weren’t exactly close over the last seven years or so. When I moved up north, I, uh . . .it’s complicated.”

I can see that it is. And the last thing I want to do is pry.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to explain. Let me just start from the top then. As you know, I joined your father about ten years ago. Before that he had Phillips Films. When I came on board it turned into Mad Men Studios. Because I had a background in animation, or at least a pipe dream.” Her eyes spark at this but I keep going, least I dwell too much on said pipe dream. “Sasha, my ex, she is American and it was her idea to expand down in LA. She became the general manager there. Fast forward over the next ten years and we decide to make the Vancouver office the animation one, LA concentrating on visual effects. That’s why there’s some growing pains over here right now. A lot of turnover as we change.”

“And that’s where I come in,” she says. Her eyes look impossibly bright in this dull, grey light. “I’m here to help with your growing pains.”

“Right. Well the truth is, it’s been a bit of an adjustment for me here. The office runs a lot differently from the LA one.”