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get back?” Chrissy asked.

“Oh, sure.” Jenny smiled as brightly as she could manage. But pretending to be happy would get really boring, and fast, if things didn’t improve.

As she stood, Olivia moved at the same time and their gazes met. Jenny startled; Olivia looked at her with a question in her eyes Jenny couldn’t begin to interpret.

Chapter 8

Olivia sucked in a deep breath as she exited the elevator on Tuesday morning. Today was the official start of Project Catwalk. Whether she liked the project or not, she needed to grit her teeth and give it her all. She’d spent all Monday evening reading through the production pack, making copious notes on all the areas where she suspected she and the rest of the team would be asked to contribute. It wasn’t an exhaustive list—all PAs knew they could be asked to do absolutely anything. But at least it helped get some of the key things embedded in her mind.

She’d sent a meeting request for ten this morning to the rest of the team as soon as she’d finished working on her notes so they could start forming a plan to split the tasks between them. Better that than running around like headless chickens working on everything all at once. She inwardly groaned as she thought about what they’d be working on. While it was great to be a part of a big project like Catwalk, the actual concept more than rankled her feminist principles. Women parading for the enjoyment of beefy sportsmen was not her idea of entertainment.

Jenny’s reaction to the project reappeared in her mind’s eye. She’d been quick to cover it, but there had definitely been a frown of disgust that crossed her features as Derek elaborated on what Catwalk involved. Could it be the green-haired woman had at least one admirable quality? Or was she merely disappointed by what her role would involve? Either were possible, Olivia supposed. She’d tried to gauge more as they’d stood to leave, catching Jenny’s gaze and trying to read what hid in its depths. Then she’d become distracted by the color of Jenny’s eyes, a deep, smoky gray she’d ever seen before. It had mesmerized her, and for one long moment, she’d completely forgotten where she was. She shivered at the recollection.

As she neared her desk, she spotted someone with bright pink hair at the copier nearby. Good God, not another person who couldn’t take office life seriously. She almost tutted out loud. Olivia knew she’d received a few looks from people in the wider production team for her smart dress sense. People didn’t seem to understand why she, as one of the lowest-paid members of staff, wanted to come to work in a suit. But appearance was important, no matter where you were in the food chain.

She’d learned that the hard way back in the UK. Underestimating what people in important roles in theater production thought of her casual dress sense back then had lost her the biggest opportunity of her life. She’d transferred all that benefit to Sally—looking the part of serious businesswoman in her new suit and fancy haircut—as she stole Olivia’s idea for a new show. The same Sally Olivia had considered the first real friend she’d made in the theater business. Sally had turned out to be purely interested in furthering her career and didn’t care who she trampled over to achieve it.

Olivia had raged against the unfairness of it all for a while, then hardened her heart and learned from it. Of course, it helped she’d married Broderick soon after and moved to New York. Starting from scratch with a totally new wardrobe and haircut to match had given her the best chance to put all that pain behind her. And yet, she still hadn’t found anyone willing to give her a decent job, something she could be proud of.

And here I am, in a fight for a lowly PA role with a woman who dyes her hair green and a man who turned up to the meeting with Derek in jeans with holes in the knees. She ground her teeth so hard her jaw ached.

She reached her desk and gratefully lowered her heavy purse onto its surface. Yes, she could invest in a laptop bag, but those things were always so ugly. The black, oversized purse suited her, and it looked good with whatever she happened to wear.

“Morning.”

Olivia looked up and to her astonishment the person with pink hair stood before her. And the person was Jenny. Olivia looked at the hair, then met Jenny’s gaze. “Pink?” Olivia quirked an eyebrow.

Jenny smirked. “Nice, isn’t it?” She dropped a pile of papers onto her desk and sat.

Olivia tutted and returned her attention to her laptop. Pink. For God’s sake.

“Good morning!” Chrissy announced as she arrived at her desk. “Anyone else have fun on the subway this morning? I had to wait ten minutes for a six train and it was gross once it arrived.”

Jenny chuckled. “I guess I just missed that. Lucky me.”

“Oh, you are so right. Hey, I love your hair!” Chrissy said, then turned. “Good morning, Olivia.”

Resisting the urge to scowl, Olivia presented her fake smile. “Good morning, Chrissy.”

Chrissy gave her a penetrating look.

Olivia coolly held her gaze until Chrissy turned away.

“Wow.” Jenny stared at her laptop screen. “Talk about being…” She cleared her throat.

“What’s up?” Chrissy asked.

Jenny looked around. Her glance lingered for one moment on Olivia, then shifted back to Chrissy. “Um, nothing. Coffee?”

Chrissy nodded enthusiastically.

“Want to join me?” Jenny stood, picked up her laptop, and pointed to the coffee station.

“Sure!” Chrissy bounced back up out of her chair and followed Jenny.

Olivia watched them go, her irritation dissipating. Whatever they were up to, they were welcome to it. She wanted no part of their juvenile let’s hang out by the coffee station so we can gossip behavior.

Maxwell appeared a moment later. Like Jenny, he wore casual clothes with a New York Jets T-shirt over stonewashed jeans. Although C&V didn’t

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