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“And I worked until after 7 last night, so I don’t care,” Erin snapped back.
“Thebosswill care, and therefore, so should you. We have standards here, young lady.”
Erin rolled her eyes and walked past him, listening to her shoes clicking against the faux—or could they be real—hardwood floors. With the money and resources Corp’s wasted, she’d bet on the latter. Why should she tolerate a reprimand from a mere reception clerk? She scooted down an open corridor through regularly spaced workstations on the main floor. None of her coworkers so much as looked up to acknowledge her arrival.
All of them kept their focus on their projects, lost within their immersive computer displays. Allison studiously reviewed ad copy, Denise and Frank watched a video clip together, pausing the action and debating a change, and Zaire hunched over multiple screens filled with color swatches, flipping back and forth between what looked like identical colors. Zaire had some sort of new tattoo gracing her collarbones with simple white leaves.
Since when could employees show off tattoos?
Erin slid into her seat with no one else so much as acknowledging her presence, which was either a blessing or a curse. Possibly both.
She stowed her purse in her desk drawer and reached for the stack of two dozen prepped packets for Avant and picked up her corp-system encoded interactive earpiece and finger stylus from its cradle on the corner of her desk. She slid the earpiece over her earlobe and across the front, depressing the switch to activate it for the day. The sleek, ringed stylus slid up and over the first joint of her index finger on her left hand. Erin avoided focusing on the systems screens as they loaded. There was a limit to the flashy marketing propaganda and indoctrination she wished to swallow in a day. Unlike her coworkers, she preferred to leave the device on standby and her desk display powered down except while she actively interacted with the media.
Instead, she slid the stack of packets toward herself and picked up the top one, done in signature glossy white with a capital P embossed on the cover in Edwardian script. Paging through the packet, Erin checked the page numbers one last time. Everything was to specifications, not that this would appease Maria, but at least Erin knew she’d done the task as requested.
Hefting the pile in her arms, Erin squared her shoulders and headed to the conference room, ignoring her aloof coworkers right back.
The white-walled conference room was filled with soft, diffuse light from sconces high along the rectangular space. A hint of jasmine hung in the air, just enough that she breathed deeper to better catch the scent. White leather chairs ringed the massive, black, oblong conference table, which doubled as a presentation device.
Music played softly, the auditory accompaniment completing the 360-degree impact she’d been trained on as part of the company’s sales presentation process. Pythia’s theme song reminded Erin of a babbling brook rendered via a violin solo of alternating haunting draws and staccato beats. Perhaps it was intended to energize or soothe, but today the tones irritated her, grating on her nerves.
Erin ringed the table, aligning the packets one by one in front of each supple leather chair, ensuring the chair’s alignment matched the packet before moving on. Completing the circle, Erin stepped back and surveyed the room for potential issues. Ted, or someone, had already prepped the water cart near the doorway with two filled water pitchers, a tray of clean glasses, and a filled ice bucket.
Something wasn’t quite right. What had she overlooked? Maria always held her to a higher standard.
Her earpiece chirped and Erin’s interactive display scrolled an alert about the morning meeting starting in five minutes. A message from Maria popped up a moment later, overlaying the meeting alert.
“I trust everything is prepared. I have word that the clients are arriving now,” Maria asked.
“Of course.” Erin picked and sent the terse auto-reply with a quick flick of her finger stylus as she rushed out of the conference room, down the hall, and back to her desk. A single tap to the surface of her desk as she sat down activated the display, of which her earpiece and stylus were simply extensions. Campaign slogans she’d crafted the day before hovered on the screen right where she’d left them. Erin pursed her lips, debating if any retained enough merit for further consideration.
The bustle of activity toward the front office drew her attention, informing Erin of the client’s imminent arrival. She straightened her back and focused on her work, using her peripheral vision to track the newest potential clients.
The contingent from Mache comprised three women, all dressed in flowing, gauzy dresses of differing lengths and cuts, escorted by a fawning Ted. Erin noted that although each dress was unique, all were light, blushing shades of pink. The contrast between their warm soft tones and her coworkers’ bland white outfits tickled at her mind, but Erin did not know why. Also, the three ladies took as little notice of Ted as she did.
Erin knew from researching Mache they were the premier fragrance company within not only Western S-Mart but also all the Central Alliance. People vied for their products in increasing numbers and sales were soaring despite the ridiculous cost.
Why they needed Pythia’s help, or anyone’s, Erin couldn’t hazard a guess.
Maria emerged from her office with purpose, clad in a tailor-fitted white pantsuit, not a hair out of place, and the scent of jasmine wafting through the air as she passed by. Considering the all-white obsession, Erin often wondered why Maria hadn’t bleached her mahogany hair blonde, as it must be harder to keep her suit tidy throughout the day. Perhaps even Maria had her limits of conformity.
Continuing to watch out of the corner of her eye, Erin observed Maria greet the clients from Mache. After the usual pleasantries, she turned back and addressed the room.
“Zaire. Denise. Frank. Allison. I’d like Mache to meet the entire team during the presentation. Please join us.” Maria didn’t wait for a reply, but turned back to the clients and led them back to the conference room. Without question, the four arose and fell into line, following Maria. Allison shot Erin a plastered smile as she walked by her desk.
Erin watched them exit the room, sighing when the doors to the conference room closed. Yes, it was a slight to be excluded, yet the reprieve of even an hour or two without Maria leveled the loss. Erin refocused on her work, debating the merits of Latin versus Italian keyword usage. She almost didn’t notice Ted’s approach. When she did, Erin ignored his very existence.
“Could you take a break from,” Ted shook his head and drew his finger in a circular motion around her workspace, “whatever it is you’re busy with here?”
Erin lifted her gaze and looked him over. From this angle, she could see he’d missed a small patch of whiskers under his ear while shaving, so unlike a Pythia employee.
“Well yes, whatever.” He frowned. “The printer repairman has arrived, and you’re to supervise him.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Maria said you must have somehow altered the yellow range on our large format machine, so you have to make sure he gets it fixed.” The chastisement reeked from his lips.
“I haven’t been using the large format, so how could I break it?”
