Don't Move Your Desk: Chapter Three

In which Ace will take an Americano, please, and Clara owes Keaton $500

Apr 20, 2024

A summary for you on what to expect in this edition in case you want to scroll down to the interesting bits: A bit about my week; Chapter Three of Don’t Move Your Desk; and the progress report with an update on my week-on-week sales and writing progress.

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Hello! I feel like it’s been about a year since we last spoke, but it was only a week. It’s been… a busy week. While I was recovering from being sick, I managed to break a rib, which is all kinds of different shades of fun! It’s the same one or very close to the same one I broke a couple of years ago, but since there’s not much medically to be done for a broken rib, I’m just having to stick it out and bear it until it heals - not the easiest thing to do with a playful and energetic 2-year-old hanging around. I think the point where it got worse than the break I had 2 years ago was the evening when he jumped on me and sat directly on the rib. Parenthood! It’s a joy!*

Anyway, I did manage to drag myself out to a local event: the Crowborough Chamber of Commerce Business Expo. You may have seen my photos in a recent note:

That’s a packet of painkillers sitting in front of me that I forgot to remove before the shot, haha.

The event was quite fun, all the same! I talked on the local radio station for about 5 minutes in the middle of the day and I had a lot of visitors who came by to talk to me about books and ghostwriting. It felt a bit weird to not be trying to sell books, even though I had them on my table, but my aim was really to let local people know about the idea of having a business book or memoir ghostwritten. I count it as a success in terms of figuring out how to do this kind of event and what I would do next time. It also reinforced in me that I would really like to do an event somewhere where I’d actually be selling books.

I have a bunch of leaflets leftover - I deliberately printed them in such a way that the information in them will be evergreen and won’t go out of date for a long time - so I’m keen now to find a time and place to set up my stall again.

One more note about how lovely it is to be fitting into the local business community now: before the end of the event, I had people coming up to me who were asking about how my rib was doing, telling me they’d heard from someone on the other side of the hall that I probably needed cheering up as I was in so much pain, and that the other stallholders had recommended them to come hear about my services. Isn’t that just wonderful? I’ve never really taken part in local community events beyond turning up and looking at stalls silently before moving here, but I’m really glad I joined the Chamber.

As a quick reminder: the first three chapters will always be free, but after that, everything will go behind the paywall 60 days after publication. Don’t miss the chance to read it for free by subscribing for email updates! This is the last permafree chapter!

Okay, that’s it! On with the chapter!

Keaton

I walked to my desk in a bit of a daze, my thoughts racing.

It was only when I sat down, behind what seemed like the relative safety of the desk, that I let myself process it fully.

Oliver Harvey.

I had pulled it off – I was finally working with him. And now I would get the chance to film him secretly and get the scoop that every media outlet in the country would kill to get their hands on.

Oliver Harvey acting like the asshole I knew first-hand he was.

About six months or so ago, I’d been to a job fair. It was one more stepping stone in my constant job search, which – through no fault of my own – seemed to dominate my entire life. It wasn’t that I was incapable of holding down a job. It was just that the filmmaking business was so off and on. I’d get a job, get an offer to work on a project, quit the job, and then the project would fall through or it would only pay enough to sustain me for a couple of months. More than once, I’d done camerawork on TV pilots that went nowhere and taken the lead on documentaries that never got picked up by networks. I’d even filmed a pilot show for my sister, Clara, once, to help her push her first screenwriting project – and even that had been a flop. No one wanted to take it on.

She still owed me $500, now I thought of it.

Anyway, that job fair had been where I’d met him for the first time. Oliver Harvey – though I didn’t know that was his name. I’d stepped up to him, leaning against the entrance to one of the halls, and asked him if he knew where the free resume evaluations were happening. He’d told me to fuck off right to my face, practically snarled it at me – for a minute I’d thought he was going to hit me.

“Fuck off, yourself!” I’d snapped back before walking away as fast as I could, just in case my momentary spark of courage did actually earn me a black eye.

And now here I was, working for the man I’d had that “conversation” with.

I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to wake myself up. From my position here at the far end of the office, right in front of Harvey’s door, I was mostly alone. But I could sense that at any minute, any of the other doors or the elevator on the other side of the room might open and disgorge someone who wanted to come right up to me and ask to see my boss. I couldn’t sit here stunned, thinking about what had happened and letting it sit all over my face.

I looked over my desk instead, trying to get a handle on everything I had at my disposal now.

Ace had given me a very brief tour when we got there – as in, “Here’s your desk, and that’s where your new boss works” – but it was up to me to really familiarize myself. I started opening and closing the desk drawers – mostly empty, except for some office essentials such as a stapler and a ruler and, weirdly, a cell phone stand – and turned in my chair to look behind my spot.

It was all clean and new as if no one had ever worked there before. But from the way Ace was talking and how eager Fernando was to hand the coffee off to me, I gathered that wasn’t the case. Actually, I gathered that Oliver Harvey had a penchant for firing his assistants, and everyone probably thought I was going to last about two seconds. He had a reputation that was clearly well-known within his own firm, but until now, that reputation hadn’t left the walls of this building.

I could see why Fernando had told me to apply for the job. He had gotten plenty of points with my sister, but he probably thought he wouldn’t have to actually work with me for long.

I was determined to prove him wrong – at least until I could get everyone comfortable enough around me to give me some really juicy footage to leak.

Keeping that goal in mind, I had a feeling I was going to be able to weather a lot more storms than my predecessors.

There was a sticky note on the monitor, maybe from the IT department or whoever used to have my job, instructing me on how to set up a new login on the system. I turned the computer on and started setting myself up, hoping I wasn’t going to have to call anyone for help – because Ace hadn’t actually told me who to call for help. I hadn’t even been down to HR. He had just whipped out a contract then and there, watched me sign it, and we were off.

I took a deep breath as the computer entered a loading screen, telling me it was setting up my new user profile and that it might take a few minutes. I grabbed the opportunity to pull my phone out and fire a quick text to my sister. Clara and I lived together, so even if I didn’t have good news to share, she would at least need to know what time I was planning on coming home.

I got the job!! They wanted me to start immediately so I’m at my desk. They told me I have to stay until my boss goes home, so it might be late.

I didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Clara was at home writing scripts most of the time, and I could picture her sitting on her floor with her laptop propped up on a cushion in front of her, reacting instantly to the buzz of her phone. Oh my God Keat!!!!!!! I knew you’d get it! We should celebrate when you get home xxx

I smiled to myself. At least someone out there cared about how I was doing. If it isn’t too late! I’ll text you when I’m leaving.

I glanced up at the screen. It was still loading. I shouldn’t, should I? But…

I quickly went into the menu of my messaging app and opened up my muted chats.

Unease trickled through my bones. I shouldn’t have looked. Because there, just like I’d been sort of hoping and sort of dreading, was a message from Jordan.

I couldn’t help myself.

I opened it up.

K, please text me back. I know you’re upset with me but it doesn’t have to end like this, does it?

I let my mouth thin out into a straight line. God, Jordan was good at getting around me. He always knew exactly what to say to make me come back to him. But not this time. This time, I was done.

So why was I replying to the message instead of deleting it – and him – for good?

Stop trying to convince me, Jordan. I have you on mute. I’m not even reading your messages anymore.

And… sent.

A line of dots popped up immediately, telling me Jordan was writing a reply.

My breath caught in my throat.

Okay. How did you know I sent you that, then?

I closed the app fast like it was burning me.

Maybe it was.

Fuck.

I checked the screen again: still nothing. I went back to Clara, who was safe and not at all a temptation of the devil.

My boss is kind of rude, I sent her. I’d been a little vague with her about why I wanted the job because I didn’t want her to spill the real truth to Fernando and ruin my chances. Sounds like he’s got a reputation for firing people or making them quit.

Rude how? she asked.

Rude like he said about three words to me, didn’t ask me anything about myself, and then just dismissed me to sit out here at my desk.

Sounds better than having a perv for a boss. Or one of those bosses who won’t stop breathing down your neck.

I tilted my head to the side. She was right about that much. Maybe I just had to keep the comparison in mind and this wouldn’t be so –

“What are you doing?”

I glanced up, feeling my face flush red even though I didn’t want it to. Oliver Harvey was standing over my desk – and dear god, he was tall – with a frown on his face.

“I was just waiting for…” I looked at my screen and trailed off. The system was all set up. I had apparently taken my eye off the ball for a second too long.

“No distractions,” my boss said, eyeing my phone like it was made of acid and he couldn’t believe I’d bring something so dangerous to work.

“… Sorry, sir,” I said. I put my phone face-down on the desk as if that was going to make a difference. He’d already caught me, and we both knew how easy it would be for me to just turn it over once he was gone. “Um, do you need something?”

Harvey’s eyes slid towards the corridor. “I’m waiting for Ace Park,” he said.

Did they have a meeting, or…?

“Oh, okay,” I nodded when he didn’t elaborate. “Do you want me to just let him straight in when he gets here?”

Harvey nodded twice. Sharp and brisk, just enough to convey the message. “Offer him a coffee.”

“Right,” I nodded. Secretary kind of stuff. Easy enough. Then I hesitated. “Where’s the coffee machine?”

He jerked his head to the side, indicating the inside of his office.

Great.

So it wasn’t so much ‘scurry off to get a coffee and avoid the boss’s oversight for a moment’ as ‘stand right in front of me so I can put you under extra unnecessary pressure while you do menial work’.

I put a fake smile on my face. “Okay, sure thing,” I said. “Do you need anything else? I was just about to take a look around the system and familiarize myself with your calendar.”

He gave me a long look with his piercing grey-blue eyes. The kind of look that made me feel as if he was looking into my soul. I wanted to shrivel up under it – but I couldn’t stop staring back.

And if he really could read my mind, then what he was reading was the following:

Holy shit, Oliver Harvey is hot in person.

Red-hot.

Burning your hands on the width of his shoulders kind of hot.

“No fake smiles,” he said at last, breaking the spell and almost making me jump.

The expression on my face faltered. “I’m sorry?”

“Good,” he nodded and walked away, closing the door to his office with a gentle click.

No fake smiles?

But this was a customer-facing position. Fake smiles were, like, half the job. Fake smiles were how you made people go away instead of demanding an audience with your boss right now when they were pissed off. This, I knew from experience.

No fake smiles?

I must have still been wearing that startled expression when Ace came around the corner, because he approached my desk with a wry chuckle.

“Already, huh?” he asked.

I blinked. “Uh,” I said, and then my brain connected. “Oh! Mr. Harvey says you can go right in. And, um, do you want a coffee?”

Please say you don’t want a coffee so I can just stay right here.

“I’ll take a coffee,” Ace nodded with a pleasant smile. “Americano, black. Come on, newbie. Time to enter the lion’s den.”

I swallowed, hard, as I got up from behind my desk. It seemed like everyone was reading my mind today. Ace couldn’t have possibly known that was how I was already thinking about the office in my own head.

If only I believed that he was talking in hyperbole.

Because I already had a feeling that curt, buttoned-up, straight-down-the-line Oliver Harvey could really eat me alive if I had the misfortune to make him angry.

Here ends this week’s chapter! What did you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts below. I really appreciate your comments - what you like, what you don’t like, and what you’d like to see next.

Progress Report

Don’t Move Out sales total: ebook - 727, paperback - 6, KU pages read - 286,535 (DMO = 238 pages, so the equivalent of 1,203 full-book reads) - Someone bought the whole series in print in one go this week. That’s possibly due to the expo, I would think? It takes a bit of a leap of faith to buy all 5 books in a series without reading one first to see if you like it, but less of a leap if you have met the author and seen the books in person.
Don’t Go Outside sales total: ebook - 77, paperback - 6, KU pages read - 104,354 (DGO = 222 pages, so the equivalent of 470 full-book reads)
Don’t Fly Home sales total: ebook - 45, paperback - 4, KU pages read - 64,112 (DFH = 224 pages, so the equivalent of 286 full-book reads)
Don’t Leave Town sales total: ebook - 54, paperback - 4, KU pages read - 44,012 (DLT = 299 pages, so the equivalent of 147 full-book reads)
Don’t Check Out sales total: ebook - 46, paperback - 2, KU pages read - 23,090 (DCO = 192 pages, so the equivalent of 120 full-book reads)
CC 1-5 Boxset sales total: KU pages read - 10,384 (Boxset = 1,068 pages, so the equivalent of 9 full-set reads) - no change
Don’t Move Your Desk - written and edited fully, serialisation underway, a third of chapters queued up ready
Kiss The Cook cover revealed, loose plot created, full plot fleshed out - work begins in earnest no later than the 6th May!
(Books 7+): 9 covers, themes, and titles done, Crowhill Kitchen release schedule announced, all Kitchen characters created and romances/interpersonal relationships between books set up
Subscribers: free - 34, paid - 0 - Down by one again! I seem to be stuck hanging around this 34 - 35 mark at the moment.
Followers: 107 - Should I start tracking this metric? I admit, I’m not really sure what value a follower has on Substack or if my followers are even reading my posts.

By the way, please like this post if you enjoyed it and would like to see more! This helps me decide what to do for future content.

XO Rhiannon

*It actually is a joy and I’m such a sucker for him and anything that makes him laugh that I’ve been letting him jump on me since, just not on the rib this time

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