#Chapter 135: More Than Work Stress

Work couldn’t go by fast enough. By the end of the day, I was exhausted from all of Dawn’s pointless demands. At one point, she had even sent me out to pick up her dry cleaning. What did this have to do with promoting the new HR rules? When I was finally finished, I slinked into Logan’s office and collapsed onto one of his chairs. I’d been running around all day, my legs were sore and my cheeks hurt from fake-smiling. “An assistant should always have a sunny disposition,” Dawn had said during one of my many lectures throughout the day. “If I see you without a smile, even once, I’ll take it as a personal insult.” Logan, unbothered by my arrival or my lack of decorum, continued to type away at his keyboard. I wondered who he had help cover his emails in my absence. His other assistants did a well enough job, but none of them were attentive to the nuances of the various clients at Hatfield Supply. “You look how I feel,” Logan said without missing a beat, fingers flying over the ke