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She thought for a moment before replying, “Only if you promise to repeat that shower scene.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Now more than three years later and countless showers and secret meetings, she’s still calling the shots.
excerpt from
CHAPTER ONE
gabriella
I CONSIDER MYSELF TO BE smart. After all, I got my Bachelor's degree in three years, thanks to no social life, Summer school, and an extra load of classes. While my classmates were going to parties and football games, I was going to my internship.
I was fortunate to intern at Morgan Grant Holdings my senior year. I really like the company and the people. However, when I graduated and applied for a position, the only thing available was a Floating Assistant. I took it, because I know the company’s policy is to promote from within. My parents don’t understand why I’m so desperate to work for this company. I honestly don’t understand it either. All I know is, it just feels right.
Morgan Grant has branches all over the world. I’m hoping wherever I land, I’ll have the opportunity to travel and really make an impact. Since I’ve been floating, I’ve worked in nearly every department at their San Francisco headquarters.
I look at my job as a very long training program. During my internship, I was relegated to Mergers and Acquisitions. I liked the high powered energy and seeing deals go from inception to birth. However, as a floater, I loved the two weeks I was in Advertising. The creative energy there is like a drug. I love how they function as a group. If given the choice, that’s where I’d like to be. Advertising works with all the departments and subsidiaries in all the offices. Creativity and travel…that’s what I want. Until then, I’ll keep floating and interviewing.
The Director of Human Resources called me early this morning, requesting I report to her office immediately for a special assignment. I quickly got dressed and headed to work.
I walked into her office and sat down. She handed me a card with only an office number. Before she could give me instructions, her computer dinged and she looked at the screen. After reading the screen, she grabbed her head, started typing and told me to go to the office upstairs and someone would give me details.
I took the elevator up to the twenty-third floor to the office number on the card. I’ve never worked on the Senior Executive floor. Most of the offices on this floor belong to the “big boys”…at least that’s what I’ve heard.
The elevator stopped, the doors opened and my mouth dropped open. It was beautiful. It didn’t look like an office, but like someone’s luxurious living room. I looked around for a receptionist, but didn’t see one. Maybe that’s what I was going to be doing. I looked down at the card and it said twenty-three forty-two. I looked around and there were three doors. I searched for twenty-three forty-two and spotted the brushed steel numbers on the wall next to a hall. I walked down the long hall and stopped at the door marked, twenty-three forty-two.
I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I turned the knob and the door opened. I walked inside and looked around the beautifully decorated black and white office with a view of the city. None of the spaces I’ve worked in had a window. Most of the offices with windows were reserved for executives. I thought to myself, “Whoever works in here probably prefers working at night with the lights of the city casting a sense of calm.”
The walls were painted a beautiful glossy dark black. The white lacquered Parsons desk fit perfectly in the black and white space. However, the desk chair seemed out of place. It was as if whoever decorated the space forgot the assistant needed a chair, and grabbed the first thing they saw in storage. In front of the desk were two French-style arm chairs painted black with wide black and white stripe fabric. The only things on the desk were a vintage-style brass lamp, a telephone, large Apple iMac, MacBook Pro, iPad, and an iPhone. Seemed someone went a little crazy at the Apple Store. There was also two back-up drives and about a dozen jump drives. This was definitely the big leagues.
Behind the desk, was a white lacquered credenza with a huge arrangement of white lilies, art books, candles, a black tray with mineral and flat water, napkins with the company logo, jars of mixed nuts, pretzels, and black and white M&Ms. In the corner, was a small black velvet settee with black and white striped pillows like the chairs. Also, a small brass and glass coffee table with a stack of art books, a small arrangement of white roses, a very modern brass floor lamp, and a black and white geometric print rug.
The office was beautiful and unlike any of the ones downstairs. I looked around and thought how cool it would be to work in this space permanently. I sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk and waited for someone to appear.
Ten minutes later, the phone rang. I looked around and no one appeared, and the phone stopped ringing. A few minutes later it rang again, so I answered it. “Hello, Morgan Grant.” I didn’t know whose office it was so I played it safe. I knew I could always transfer the call to the right department.
“Great, you’re there. I need you to familiarize yourself with the leases for the D.C., Atlanta, Charlotte, and Dallas offices. Also, get the number of employees. I need to know if there are any open positions, and if so, how many. Call Estella in Human Resources and tell her what you need. Then, make a list of the top three commercial real estate brokers in London and Paris.”
He was speaking so quickly, I never got a chance to tell him that whoever he was trying to reach wasn’t there. I put the call on speaker, got my phone and recorded everything he was saying while jotting down whatever I could catch. I wanted to make sure I relayed the information correctly to whomever the office belonged to.
“Then go to Brockman’s, ask for Cameron and pick up the things he has for me. Tony will pick you up tomorrow and bring you to the airport.”
“When the assistant arrives, who should I say called?”
“Phillippe. Don’t tell me I just gave all that to the receptionist. Human Resources said my assistant was in her office.”
“I’m sorry, but no one was here when I arrived. I’m waiting on someone to give me instructions for my next assignment.”
“What did Human Resources tell you?”
“There was an emergency. Then I was handed a card with this office number and told to report here for my next assignment.”
He sighed. “Are you Gabriella Townsend?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Phillippe Marchant, you’ll be working with me.”
