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"Then you are a very foolish girl," a deep male voice said from the doorway.
Hannah felt her heart leap into her throat and let out a startled yelp, turning in her chair so quickly the room blurred for a split second. When her vision cleared, she saw the man responsible for the interruption. And the insult, she reminded herself.
He was leaning slightly against the doorjamb. He was tall, well over six foot with broad shoulders and thin waist. A swimmers body, she had heard it called in romance novels. He had dark brown hair cut short and kept neatly with startling blue eyes. His face was all sharp angles- a straight nose and a strong jawline which was covered in more than a day's worth of stubble. He was dressed in an expensive-looking gray suit with a bright blue tie and silver cuffs links. Everything about him was imposing. Powerful. Maybe even a bit cruel from the way he held his mouth and the lack of smile lines in someone well into his thirties. He straightened as she eyed him up, but he barely spared her a glance, focusing his attention more on the clock above her head. "Only a fool wouldn't ask to know their wage," he clarified in his strong voice.
"Only a fool would risk losing an opportunity to work at one of the most stable companies in the country in these economic times. A company that, along with a great health benefit plan and 401K, has infinite room for advancement if one's conduct suggests they are deserving of it," Hannah said, whilst cursing herself for a tendency to be a word-vomit champion and a real snob when she felt personally challenged. "One could start at a minimum-wage job and be having their own office with six figures if they could prove themselves worthy," she finished, her heart hammering in her chest with a mixture of defiance and nerves.
The man entered the room as she started to speak and moved to stand next to Sally as he listened. An infuriating eyebrow arched somewhere in the middle of her speech and remained until she was finished. The silence thereafter was uncomfortable at best.
Sally, bless her soul, fidgeted with her papers, cleared her throat awkwardly and said, "Well the salary is fifteen an hour at any rate. Just so you are aware. Fool or no, everyone needs to know what they are worth."
Hannah's head cocked to the side at that as she fought hard to bite her tongue. She knew by that, Sally meant she, herself, made considerably more and was therefore worth more. In general and to the company. But she knew she would do no good getting into an argument with someone who held her future in their hands.
Again there was silence. It elapsed slowly with the sound of the clock ticking it out. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen.
The man still stood there, glancing at her, then turning his attention toward the clock. What was he even still doing there? It was troubling enough to have to deal with Sally and her snarky comments. But she had to put up with his silent presence, filling the room with a palpable awkwardness. He glanced back at her before turning to the door and opening it.
"You're hired," he said, with his back to her before closing the door firmly.
Hannah felt the wind whoosh out of her and the room's energy softened noticeably. She hadn't realized how anxious his presence had made her until he was gone. Unable to help herself, Hannah blurted out, "Who on Earth was that?" in an astonished high-pitched, school-girl kind of voice.
"That, my dear, was EM himself," Sally said, smiling in a way Hannah could only describe as mocking, bordering on condescending.
"EM is an actual person?" she asked, thinking that EM was just some generic corporation title, not someone's actual initials.
"Elliott Michaels," Sally said with a nod, throwing the file folder in the garbage. "Your new boss."
Hannah was caught somewhere between awe that someone his age could amass so much in so short a time and unease that someone so cold, dismissive and, well, rude was going to be her new boss. She was going to be HIS right hand. She had to keep HIM happy. Could a man like that even be happy? Could she ever do a satisfactory enough job to please someone who, from the looks of his company, obviously expects inhuman perfection from himself?
"Well, Miss Clary, I suggest a good night of sleep and sensible shoes. He will have you running all day. It is his intention you know," she said, rising from her seat, "to run you right out of this office. As he has done with at least two dozen eager assistants over the past year. No one has lasted more than a week. He holds his staff to a nearly impossible standard and," she said with an almost maternal look in her eye, "it seems he sets an even higher standard for those who will be around him day and night. Good luck, Miss Clary," she said, as she led her toward the elevator doors.
"Thanks," she said to herself because Sally had already shuffled back to her desk and picked up her phone. No rest for the wicked, as they say.
She got into the elevator in what she could only call a daze. She felt as though she had just been through a natural disaster and survived, but only to realize she was now prey to a herd of feral dogs. As the doors slid close, the young man standing next to his desk caught her eyes and held her gaze. Right before she lost sight of him, he smiled and winked at her. And then she was alone again.
Her car ride home moved slowly. Not for traffic or the inclement weather. She was just in shock for no better way to put it. She got a job. She was employed again. She didn't have to feel like a slacker for sitting home all day. She wouldn't feel the twinge of embarrassment for having to call unemployment every week for a check she hadn't worked for. She would have something to fill her time. She would have a paycheck again. She could have her television turned back on! She was, once again, a productive member of society.
Downside, she would have long hours. She would have what seemed like an impossible boss. She would have to be pleasant to Sally. But, hey, a job is a job. No matter what, she could eke her way through it for a year and then start looking again if it was really as bad as everyone implied. She could certainly last that long at least. She didn't know what kind of incompetent employees they had hired in the past that couldn't last more than a week, but that was all sorts of pathetic. No job was so terrible that you couldn't tolerate it for at least a year.
CHAPTER THREE
SHE WANTED TO quit after an hour. That was all it took.
Her alarm screeched shrill and insistent. Before she went to bed, she had opened her curtains so the sun would wake her up fully. Unfortunately, the sun decided to take a rest that morning and was replaced by a heavy, unyielding rain. Wonderful. She pulled herself out of bed feeling achy and like she hadn't slept at all. She threw herself into the shower, standing under the scalding water until she felt almost human again.
She gave herself a pep talk over a steaming coffee. She was fully capable of handling anything that came her way. She was an intelligent, qualified career woman. She would not be intimidated by anyone. And she, most certainly, would not kowtow and hero-worship Elliott Michaels like Sally, and most likely, every other employee of the company did. She would demand and receive the respect she deserved. She would have an amazing first day at work.
Hyper-vigilant about time as always, Hannah arrived promptly at eight. She stopped at the front desk to get her official security badge with her name and everything printed on it. It even said "full access". The guard was the same as from the day before but this time he actually greeted her warmly and told her to have a great first day as she got in the elevator.
The doors chimed and opened. Directly in front of them stood the young man from the day before. He was tall and lanky with sandy-brown hair and green eyes. He looked every bit a model from a hipster fashion magazine in his gray wash skinny jeans, gray blazer over a gray and green tartan plaid shirt, and bulky green scarf.
"Ah, fresh meat," he said in a slightly feminine tone. "And you're a pretty little picture, aren't you?" he asked, then went on without a response. "My name is Tad. I have been here two years. It can be a hellhole, but it pays well. Oh, I know. I know. It's weird to see a male secretary. But I am very in touch with my feminine side if you know what I mean."
"Loud and clear," Hannah said with a genuine smile. She loved gay men. They made the best workmates.
"Well, you are early. Walk with me and I'll give you the scoop. But I need to fax these," he said, holding up a stack of files as thick as a book. "So right this way," he said and she fell easily in step next to him. "So, like I said, my name is Tad. You already know Sally the Wicked Witch of the Top Floor, if you ask me. Or anyone you ask for that matter. But you lucked out. She has no control over you. You get to answer to the boss and the boss only. Not that that is a good thing. The man scares me and I mean I have never even had him speak directly to me." Tad placed a piece of paper in the machine and typed the number in without looking. "I am sure you have heard about all the girls who came before you."
"Kinda hard not to," Hannah said, taking half of the stack of faxes and taking them to the other fax machine. Tad had a yellow sticky note on each paper with the number it was to be faxed to.
