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Figures. Heels are like men. I smirk. There was truth in that thought. At least for me. I let my mind wander to the last interaction with my most recent break-up. Chris was tall, handsome, and successful. He had been a great boyfriend until about a year into our relationship when all he wanted to do was play video games and ignore me. A thirty-five-year-old man playing video games in all his free time was not what I had in mind for a partner. The only person surprised by the break-up was him. That was three years ago. I haven’t dated since. As I ponder that thought some more, I sense someone coming my way. I glance up to see David walking towards me.
“Lacey, good morning. Great to see you again. Come on in, and we’ll get you set up and ready to go.”
“Thanks David. Excited to be here,” I say keeping my tone bubbly. I have no idea if I can even do this job, but now is not the time to show my nerves.
“I’m going to take you to HR first, so you can get all your paperwork done. Let’s go drop your things in your office.”
“Oh, I have my own office?” I ask trying to suppress my surprise as best as I can.
“Yes, it’s small but I think it’ll be fine.”
As we walk down the aisles of cubicles and offices, I can’t help feeling some excitement. Maybe it’s just my first-day nerves, but the place seems to buzz. Everyone I walk past has smiles on their faces and gives me a polite nod. Even though this job isn’t exactly what I want to be doing, I get the sense this will be okay. It has to be.
As we enter my office my eyes light up. If this is the definition of small, I can only imagine what the bigger offices are like. It has that all too new carpet smell with tasteful art hung on the walls. My desk is large and already situated with two monitors, a keyboard, mouse, and phone. There are two wooden bookshelves in the corner and a few tall potted plants sitting on the floor. I reach out and touch the leaves surprised that they are real.
“Oh, these are real. I hope I don’t kill them,” I say. My record with keeping plants alive is a staggering zero. Even cactuses seem to shrivel into themselves when they are put in my care.
David looks over at me with a smile. “Don’t worry. We have people that come and care for all the plants in the building weekly. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
I know Whitmore Tech is a multi-billion-dollar company but somehow the fact that they have people that come and care for the plants makes it even more fancy, which suddenly swirls my insides like a well shaken cocktail. This place is the real deal. This is not some company where I can go unnoticed. I need to put on my big girl pants and find a little shred of confidence that I can do this.I can do this.
David nods as I place my bag under my desk. “Okay, let’s get you to HR and I’ll get IT to your office while you’re doing that and this afternoon, our team has a big meeting with the bossman. Don’t worry, you can just meet everyone and soak it all in.”
I glance around the office and inhale deeply. “Okay sounds great. Off to HR then?”
I follow David down a long hall and pass a kitchen area that from a quick glance looks spotless. I can see a counter area, sink, water cooler, refrigerator, microwave, and a few small tables. We pass the restrooms and take a right down another long hallway. This place seems endless. We come to a door marked ‘Human Resources’ and David opens the door for me.
“Alright. Amanda will get your paperwork for you and then I’ll meet you back in your office. Do you think you can find your way back?”
I think about the question. I’m not sure, but I am not going to tell him that. “Of course. Thanks.”
I follow Amanda into a small conference room where she places several folders on the table. She clearly has her things organized and ready for me. She sits down and motions me to do the same.
“Okay Lacey, so we have all your new hire paperwork ready to go for your review and signature. This packet is all about your benefits,” she says reaching across the table handing it to me.
As Amanda goes through her papers I thumb through the packet. There is generous medical insurance coverage, a great 401k plan, more paid time off than I remember ever getting and even tuition reimbursement.
“Wow. Whitmore Tech is pretty generous,” I say looking across at Amanda.
“Yeah, we are. Mr. Whitmore prides himself on keeping the employees happy. You won’t see a lot of turnover. People like to work here.”
The Mr. Whitmore she speaks of is Jared Whitmore. Everyone in the town knows his name because the Whitmore family gives to charity, and funds many community events so I was surprised that all I could find when I Googled Jared Whitmore was a brief article from Harvard several years ago where he did an alumni interview about how he started up Whitmore Tech. I also came across a few photos of him at local charity events. He is brutally handsome, but in all the photos I saw he barely had a smile on his face. It was more like a slight upturn of one corner of his mouth, his lips always closed wearing a mask of seriousness. But even with his flat demeanor, his tall stature, dark hair, and light eyes suit him well.
Amanda proceeds to give me each form one by one, explaining each as she slides them across the table. After signing them all I stand ready to go back to my office to meet with David.
“Let me make your copies. I’ll be right back.” Amanda leaves the room as I stand looking over the benefit package in more detail. As much as I wish the bakery could offer all these benefits, I know Beth and I are far off from making that happen. We can barely pay Ashley for the few hours she works up front each week. Beth and I are working ourselves into the ground and though we love it I just hope I can keep it up now working a full-time corporate job on top of going into the bakery in the evenings and weekends.
In the doorway someone stops and peeks in. “Oh, hi there. I’m looking for Amanda,” she says.
“Oh, she’ll be right back. She just went to make a few copies for me.” I quiet for a second when I realize I should probably introduce myself.
“I’m Lacey. This is my first day. I’m the new senior financial analyst.”
“Oh, hi dear. I’m Diane. I’m Mr. Whitmore’s executive assistant. Welcome!”
Diane reminds me of my mom. She is older, maybe in her late fifties with hair just starting to gray. She is well put together wearing a black pant suit with a colorful blouse and gold jewelry. I immediately get a sense of warm energy from her.
“Very nice to meet you Diane. Do you like working for the big boss?” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. Why did I just say that? Great job being unprofessional on day one.
