RRC - My Boss

by Jolie Day

  “Kara gave me over a dozen names,” Joel replied. “Yours is...interesting, but why would it have stood out among the rest? I’ve had applicants named after colors in here. There was even a girl named Burberry here about an hour ago. Are your parents famous or something?”

  Avery had to force herself not to laugh out loud at that. Her mother had been a housewife; her father owned a shop in Greenfield, Illinois, and refused to franchise. She was from a town called Greenfield, for goodness sake. She had been raised no more than one mile from a cow at all times. She swallowed down the amusement and shook her head.

  “No,” she said. “My parents aren’t famous. I’m from Illinois.”

  “A lot of famous people come from Illinois,” Joel pointed out.

  “Not from Greenfield.”

  “Point taken.” He grinned as he looked down at the paper she’d given him, which contained her resume. “So you went to Northwestern, huh? That’s impressive.”

  “Thank you,” Avery replied, feeling her chest puff out a bit with pride. She was smart and hard-working; it would benefit her to be a little bit confident, as well. “I also finished early, with multiple degrees.”

  “I see that,” Joel said, giving her a look of boyish amusement. She had the sudden urge to slap that grin right off his face. Slap or…

  No. Not that.

  Avery cleared her throat. “I had some AP credits going in,” Avery informed him, “and I wanted to get through my education as quickly as possible, you know?”

  “I do know,” Joel said. “I finished early, too.”

  “College?”

  “And high school,” he informed her, with a proud, dimpled grin. “All of us did.”

  “All of you?” Avery asked, furrowing her brow. “Your siblings, too?”

  He nodded. “It’s genetic, I guess. Intelligence.” He was a little cocky about it, but Avery found she had no rebuttal. His family was obviously incredibly intelligent, there was no denying that. Still, that smirk was driving her insane.

  “What was your degree in?” Avery asked, suddenly very interested in hearing more.

  “Engineering,” Joel said, motioning to the degree framed and hung up on the wall behind him. He smiled proudly. “But,” he continued, clearing his throat, “this isn’t about me. It’s about you. Now. Tell me a little about yourself, Miss James.”

  Avery tried not to let her disappointment show. For the first time all day, she had no interest in talking about any of her achievements; she wanted to learn more about Joel’s experience with engineering and how she might go about getting herself an engineering degree. Was it really as difficult as everybody made it out to be? How long did it take? Was he good at it? Were any of his designs or inventions patented, or used by HI? Was that what made the company such a success?

  She felt like a student on her first day of class, desperate to absorb any and all information she could get her hands on. But she held back and forced herself to look back on her own education. How she’d been an Honors student. How she’d gotten straight A’s in most of her subjects all throughout high school. How she’d had a 3.9 GPA at Northwestern and worked hard at everything she’d ever done; education-wise and job-wise.

  She listed any achievements and scholarships she’d ever been awarded, spoke about how she’d been raised with a “work hard, live well” kind of attitude, and gave examples of how she might deal with issues that could arise during work. The entire time she spoke, Joel Harper watched her with no small amount of curiosity in his eyes. The corners of his lips were turned up ever so slightly, as if he was enjoying this.

  Avery took pause at that. Was he laughing at her? Did he think she was funny? Some small-town farm girl making a fool of herself in his office, thinking that he was going to give her a job? It was paranoid thinking, Avery knew, but there had to be some reason he was called “The Wolf” and she had no idea what other reason there could be for that.

  He must have seen the change in her demeanor (was it the way her shoulders tensed or the fact that the lines of her face hardened?), because Joel tilted his head in confusion, creases appearing at the corners of his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked, interrupting her mid-sentence.

  Avery feigned confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Nothing’s wrong. Except it’s very rude for you to interrupt me like that.”

  “I’m sorry,” Joel said. “I just…I sensed something change.”

  “Sensed?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

  “I just…I saw something in your face. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I’m sorry. Continue.”

  Avery opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. “I forgot what I was even talking about,” she said.

  Joel looked down at her resume, which Avery had just realized was covered in some kind of scribble. He’s taking notes?

  “I think you were telling me why you didn’t apply for any internships while in school,” he informed her.

  “Right,” Avery said, feeling herself relax a little bit in her seat. “Um, I was working at the bookstore on campus, as well as overloading on all my courses. I took over twenty credits per semester, which was roughly five or six classes and I had to do two senior theses, so I just didn’t have the time. Then, when I got out of school, it didn’t really make sense to take on a job that didn’t even pay, so I just…didn’t. I worked at a local grocery store and saved up money, thinking that if I saved enough, I might be able to justify returning to Chicago for grad school.”

  “So why didn’t you do that?” Joel asked, looking genuinely interested in her story and choices.

  Avery shrugged. “Because I wanted to come to New York.” It was a simple answer, but it felt the most honest; the most truthful and accurate.

  “But why New York?” Joel asked. “Why not go to, say, Los Angeles? Orlando? Chicago? I mean, it’s right there and I’m sure that there are plenty of companies that would have been more than happy to take you on.”

  “Chicago was too close to home,” Avery admitted. “And my father…he’s a little controlling. I knew that if I stayed, he would just always be there, ready to catch me when I failed and tell me ‘I told you so’. I couldn’t deal with that. Los Angeles…no. Too…picturesque. I wouldn’t want such a pretty city ruined for me if I ended up in the bad part of town. Orlando is the same.”

  “But New York?”

  “The bad parts of town have never really been kept a secret,” Avery chuckled. “I knew what I was getting into when I came here. I knew that ending up in an unsavory neighborhood somewhere in Queens or Brooklyn was almost inevitable, so I was always prepared for that. It wouldn’t have ruined anything for me—for the most part. And there’s just so much opportunity here, you know? You always hear about New York in songs and television and movies and I just…I wanted to be a part of it. And now, for this brief moment in time, I am. And I don’t want it to end.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to.”

  Avery snorted and shook her head. “All good things end,” she replied. “Eventually.”

  Joel nodded, slowly. “Like this interview, I’m afraid,” he said, standing up. Avery stood with him, a sinking feeling that stretched from her heart to her stomach. “Thank you so much for coming in, Miss James. You should hear from us soon.” He gave her a smile—this one straight and almost…shy—as he offered her his hand to shake.

  “Thank you, Mr. Harper,” she replied, “for this opportunity.” She was certain that she was not going to get this job; she’d killed the confidence vibe with her melancholy and pessimism. “And thank you,” she added, almost as an afterthought, “for the coffee. I’m sorry I never said it before. I must have forgotten. Until just now.”

  Joel gave her a knowing smile. “You’re welcome,” he said. Their hands were still connected and they seemed to notice it at the exact same time. Their fingers slipped away simultaneously and Avery felt her cheeks heat up as Joel cleared his throat and w
alked around the desk to accompany her to the door.

  In just a few long strides, he made it there before her and opened it up, giving her a playful bow that made Avery roll her eyes and sigh as she stepped out. She couldn’t help the tiny grin that she attempted to bite back on her way to the door. Just as she reached for the doorknob, she found herself looking back to cast Joel Harper one last, thankful smile.

  The smile quickly fell from her face as she watched him shake the hand of yet another young woman—this one with curly black hair that fell around her shoulders and a pair of round, copper-framed glasses perched on her button-nose. The girl was blushing, but her lips were upturned in pleasure. Avery frowned and felt her fist clench around the folder she was holding. Shaking her head, she turned back to the door, tugged it open with too much force, and hastily made her way down the hall, not caring that she’d forgotten to pull it closed after her.

  *****

  “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mrs. Abrams,” Avery said as she came back out of the kind businesswoman’s office. Agatha Abrams was old enough to be her grandmother, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from how she held herself. She was tall and broad-shouldered and her hair was as straight as a pin. Her deep sea-green eyes seemed to hold all the wisdom in the world and she looked at Avery with all the affection a grandmother might give her grandchild. There was no doubt in Avery’s mind that she would enjoy working for the older woman.

  Still, she had doubts.

  While the company had a good reputation (nearly a hundred years strong, founded before the Great Depression—and survived), it was centered around small businesses—businesses that often had to be closed because they just weren’t making enough money. Avery knew that that was a big part of the career she’d chosen (financials), but she didn’t know if she could hold the futures of so many people and their families in her hands like that. Part of her job would be lay-offs and notifying the managers of the small businesses they oversaw that they were in danger of going out of business if they didn’t make changes. In this case, changes typically meant more lay-offs.

  “It takes a strong stomach,” Mrs. Abrams had told Avery. “And a hard heart. Do you think you have what it takes?”

  Avery had schooled her features and nodded, keeping her voice calm as she said, “Yes, I do have what it takes. Definitely.” But she knew, deep down, she really didn’t. She suspected that Mrs. Abrams knew it, too, because the older woman hadn’t even promised a callback. She’d just said thank you and have a nice day, in the friendliest way possible.

  It left Avery with a small amount of undeserved hope.

  As she made her way up the street headed towards her hotel, Avery prayed that she’d get a callback from one of the three other positions she knew she had a chance at. Or even a phone call from another company that actually wanted to offer her a job. That would be nice. She wouldn’t have to walk long distances in these ballet flats. Avery was now starting to see why they’d been so cheap. Her feet were going to ache later.

  She considered hailing a cab back to the hotel, but decided against it for two reasons:

  First, it would cost too much of the money she’d worked so hard to save up and wasn’t certain if she’d be adding to anytime soon; and second, she absolutely sucked at hailing cabs. Abe usually did it for her.

  So she walked, instead. There was no point in paying nearly three dollars for the subway back, no matter how much her feet hurt. That being said, there was no harm in stopping for lunch. After all, she had nowhere to be now, since all of her interviews were over.

  Avery spotted a hot dog stand two blocks up and hobbled towards it as fast as her tired feet would allow. When she got there, she almost cried in relief when she saw there was no line and ordered herself a hot dog with relish and mustard, practically salivating as the vendor prepared it for her. When he tried to charge her two dollars for it, she haggled and threatened to head to the one on the next corner, where they openly advertised one dollar dogs, and he conceded.

  New York City Rule #1: Never pay more than a dollar for a hot dog at any hot dog stand.

  She also bought herself a Pepsi for $1.50 and dropped her change into his tip jar, for which he gave her a sarcastic “thanks, Ms. Rockefeller”. Avery didn’t care, though; she had lunch and there was a park less than fifty feet away, where she was able to find an empty bench on which to eat her lunch. She sighed in relief as she stretched out her legs in front of her, debating kicking off her shoes, but deciding against it, lest somebody take that as an invitation to steal her shoes (she’d seen it happen her first week here) and instead popped her heels out, allowing the flats to dangle on her toes.

  Avery was halfway through stuffing the delicious, juicy hot dog into her mouth when she felt the vibration of her cellphone in her purse. Carefully, she set the dog down on her folder and began to dig through the bag, finding her cell at the very bottom and checking the caller ID. Since she didn’t have any numbers stored in her phone except her father’s (what better way to avoid him?), only a number appeared on the screen. It was relatively familiar to her, but Avery reasoned that it could belong to any of the companies she’d visited that morning. And they could be calling for any reason.

  Forcing herself not to hope too hard, Avery pressed ‘Answer’ and held the phone up to her ear, swallowing thickly before speaking into the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Is this Avery James?” a familiar voice said in her ear and Avery felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as her mouth went dry.

  “Y-yes,” she replied.

  “This is Edith from Harper Images?” It was phrased as a question, but Avery knew it wasn’t one, so she didn’t answer. “I’m calling on behalf of Joel Harper; you had an interview with him about an hour ago.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Avery replied, not unkindly.

  “Well, Mr. Harper is in a meeting right now, but he wanted me to call you and let you know that we’re prepared to offer you the position.”

  “The…the position?” Avery stammered.

  “The one you applied for,” Edith reminded her, gently. “The Assistant position here at Harper Images. Mr. Harper was very impressed with your resume and credentials and would like to invite you back for a follow-up meeting to go over your employee contract and negotiate salary and benefits. That is,” she added, “if you would still like the job.” She paused. “Are you still interested, Miss James?”

  Before Avery could think twice about it, her mouth was already answering for her, as if it had a mind of it’s own.

  “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  Chapter Six

  Avery stood before an expansive plate-glass window, watching the cars, taxis and limousines move on the street below, weaving between one another in a sort of hypnotizing dance. Pedestrians sauntered down the street, some with their arms weighed down by shopping bags and others walking hand-in-hand with their loved ones, basking in the sunlight. A few pushed strollers and Avery found that she couldn’t distinguish the nannies from the mothers and fathers. There was some construction further up the road, but nobody seemed to pay it any mind. Avery couldn’t even hear the jackhammers or any other power tools being used, which was amazing to her.

  It was like she was in a fishbowl, looking out at the world around her, just observing as they went about their daily lives and routines. Avery wondered if that would be her soon.

  “Miss James?” She jumped at the sudden voice (was it so sudden? Or had she just been ignoring it?) and turned back to Edith, who was working a piece of Red Hot chewing gum between her teeth, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in expectation. “Do you need me to repeat that?” she asked, knowingly. And, oh, she looked annoyed.

  Avery felt her cheeks heat up as she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Sorry, I was just…sorry.”

  Edith took a deep breath and offered her a half-hearted smile. “Quite the view, huh?” She stepped up next to Avery and looked out at the streets and the surro
unding office and apartment buildings. “You wouldn’t be the first person to get distracted by pretty things, hun. Just make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. Not everybody has this kind of opportunity.”

  Edith Brownstein wasn’t much older than Avery, but she stood and spoke and carried herself like somebody who’d been alive for centuries and had lived life to the fullest, only to retire into a menial existence as the secretary for some company that underappreciated her to the fullest extent. Avery wondered how she’d gotten that way.

  Edith had shown up at Avery’s hotel just as she was packing and had helped her squeeze all of her belongings into the banged up old suitcase, before ushering her down to the library, where the younger woman hesitated, looking apprehensively at the front desk. Edith had given her an expectant look, asking a question with only her eyes.

  “I…um…they still kinda don’t know I’m checking out,” Avery confided. “I paid for a full month and I’m not sure I can even get my money back at this point and I—”

  “Say no more,” Edith interrupted, putting a hand up to silence her. Avery watched in awe as Edith charmed the man behind the desk into forgiving the early checkout and watched as he doled out a few gift cards, before wishing her a splendid day. Edith handed them to Avery before she could say anything. “Sorry I couldn’t get you cash,” she said. The gift cards were for the hotel and surrounding restaurants and shops.

  “It’s okay,” Avery replied, sending the manager an apologetic look as she followed Edith outside to the waiting town car.

  Now, they stood in the center of a luxury studio apartment two blocks from Fifth Avenue, looking out at the land of the wealthy and materialistic. Avery’s eyes were filled with stars and the rest of her body fluttered like butterflies, but Edith’s gaze was almost bored.

  “How many times have you been here?” Avery asked as she followed Edith into the kitchen.

  “I’ve been working for HI since the beginning,” Edith explained, opening her fridge, which was fully stocked. “This should last you until your first paycheck. I used to work for Mrs. Harper, until she retired.”