by Candice Dow
I stooped down to the friendly little guys and they playfully licked my hands. “Hey, little fellas. How are you?”
Their tails wagged and their ears were relaxed. Lynn said, “Looks like they like you. My guys are very weird. They don’t like everyone, but I’m really busy. I travel a lot, so I need someone I can depend on.”
I stood back up and said, “Well, I’m your girl.”
She smiled. “Hopefully. Well, let’s walk down here to this pizza shop so that I can get your information.”
The dogs brushed up against the sides of my legs as we headed to the pizzeria. They were both quite hefty. I wondered if I’d be capable of walking them with other dogs. I figured it was best if I secured this client and then decided how I’d handle multiple clients.
We sat at the table outside the pizzeria and Lynn pulled out a long application. My thoughts must have been written on my face. She said, “The background app is pretty long.”
“I see.”
“If you want, you can fill it out now and I’ll wait. Or you can take it home and fax it back to me.”
I shrugged. “I’ll do it now if you don’t mind.”
“Oh no. I prefer you do it now.”
I dug in my purse for a pen and finally Lynn handed one to me. As I filled out the application for the background check, she continued talking to me. Listen, lady, I can’t think and talk about two different things at once. Instead of saying this I smiled and entertained her as I jotted down my information. It took quite a while longer than it should have, but I think that in the process Lynn became comfortable with me.
After I signed, both Lynn and I stood to leave. I petted the dogs and headed back home. On my way I was thinking that I’d closed the deal. And considering there was nothing in my background that would interfere with her wanting to hire me, I was certain she’d be calling in a week, after the investigation was done.
I was light on my feet as I headed back to the apartment. Then it struck me: I’d given a stranger all my personal information and there was no guarantee that she really needed my service. I didn’t have her address or even her last name. I walked into the apartment looking like I’d seen a ghost. My heart was pounding, because I thought I might have made a big mistake.
Kari frowned back at me. “What’s wrong with you, chick?”
“Ah, I just gave her all of my confidential information and now I’m thinking that was stupid.”
“Like what?”
“Well she wants to do a background check on me and she needed this information and I gave it to her, but now I’m second-guessing myself.”
“London, I’m sure it’s fine. She’s just trying to protect herself. You wouldn’t let any stranger into your home without a background check. Would you?”
“I guess not.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. She’ll run the check. It will come back flawless and you’ll be on to walking hundreds and hundreds of dogs. You’ll be DC’s most successful dog walker.”
Kari made me blush as I tried to envision it. My shoulders relaxed as I thought how blessed I was to have a friend like Kari. She was always so encouraging. It was as if she saw great possibilities in every person she met. That sometimes worked against her, especially when it came to men, but she always had the right words to pull me through a rough patch.
“You’re right. It’s gonna be fine.”
“So what about the other people? Do they all want background checks?”
I covered my mouth and gasped. I had been so excited about my first call that I completely forgot about calling anybody else.
“I don’t believe you. Call them now,” she said, shaking her head.
I called the two other potential clients. One guy wanted to know when I could start and didn’t mention anything about my background. The other lady also asked for a background check. I arranged to meet them both.
Later my mother called back to let me know she had an interview set up for me. Ugh! I hadn’t asked her to step into my life. I knew that if I didn’t go I would never hear the end of it. From the looks of things, I’d begun to wear everyone down and no one was going to support me as I searched for my destiny. So I had to give a little in order to get a little empathy.
3
The next day I whipped out the interview suit that my mother had bought me for vet school interviews and headed downtown to Quinn Forrester. I was scheduled for an interview with William Thorne, a senior investment banker. He was a friend of a friend of my mother’s. She’d given me the rundown prior to the interview. He had a billion-dollar portfolio and was in need of additional administrative help. He’d made more money for Quinn Forrester in eight years than some brokers make in their entire careers. His clients were CEOs, entertainers, and athletes.
I opted to leave my Toyota Camry parked in the building’s garage and caught the Red Line downtown to the Quinn Forrester building. Shortly after, I was standing in front of a tall glass building, thinking, I don’t feel like working for some investment firm I walked in and stood in front of the guard, requesting William Thorne. The guard called up to the office. After getting approval, he directed me to catch the elevator up to the twenty-third floor and told me that a receptionist would be to my left.
I followed his directions and stepped off the elevator into a sleek office space. There was a nice sitting area in front of the receptionist’s desk. A television tuned to CNN Money hung from a ceiling mount. The décor was in earth tones: butter-soft beige leather sofas, brown accent chairs, and a chocolate coffee table. A gorgeous gigantic abstract painting was on the wall, which looked to be covered in an ivory houndstooth fabric. I stood there absorbing the scenery and I smiled, thinking, I could sit right here and transfer calls all day long. That didn’t seem too challenging, and in between receiving calls for Quinn Forrester I could develop and organize my dog-walking service. But I guess they only needed one person to do that and it looked as if that seat was taken. Slightly disappointed, I said, “Good morning, I’m here to see William Thorne.”
The receptionist was a twentysomething white girl with a snazzy short bob cut and a skunk stripe of platinum blond in her brown hair. She was dressed more like she worked for Vogue as opposed to at a desk. When she ushered with her right hand toward the waiting area, I assumed she was asking me to have a seat. When I sat down there were a bunch of financial magazines sprawled across the coffee table. Just as I lifted one up a young lady walked out through the glass doors that separated the lobby from the other side of the office. She came up to me and shook my hand. “Hello, London. I’m Amanda.”
“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said, standing and adjusting my skirt.
She was wearing a black pin skirt and a yellow short-sleeved poet shirt with the ruffle bib type of thing. Her hair was pulled up into a knot on top of her head. She wore minimal jewelry, but I noticed a large rock on her left hand.
“You can follow me.”
I did and as she opened the glass door she said, “I’m Thorne’s first-line administrative assistant, which means that when I’m here I handle all customer service issues. Because of the magnitude of the business that Thorne has, he needs two assistants. The second assistant is responsible for making sure Thorne has everything he needs, like printer paper, coffee, writing pads, confirming calendar appointments, and things like that.”
I nodded. That didn’t seem too challenging. I was definitely capable of that. It was pretty much like common sense. We arrived at another glass door with THORNE FINANCIAL GROUP written on it.
Before she opened it I asked, “I guess we’re going in here?”
“Exactly.”
I first noticed when I walked in the office that the art on the walls mainly contained the colors yellow, red, green, blue, and black. The walls were dark and seemed to be a major contrast to the rest of the company’s office space. Immediately I assumed that Mr. Thorne was a rebel. The small waiting room had European-style black leather chairs and a glass table.
William Thorne’s office door was closed and Amanda scooted behind the desk on the left side of the office. She told me to have a seat as she picked up the phone. I heard several beeps. Finally she said, “Your eleven o’clock is here.”
After hanging up the phone she pointed to the desk directly opposite hers and said, “If you get the job, that’s where you’ll be sitting.”
Almost five minutes passed before William Thorne’s office door opened. It seemed like a bunch of attractive guys in suits walked out. Maybe they weren’t attractive, but they all looked like they had money to blow. I wasn’t sure which one was Mr. Thorne. They chatted calmly in front of me for a few more seconds. Finally Mr. Thorne said, “Yeah, we’ll talk later. Glad you guys were able to come.”
“Thorne, you know we can’t come through DC without checking up on our man. I gotta stay on your radar, because I can’t miss out on any business ops.”
Thorne laughed. “Man, I told you that investment wasn’t something you guys are into.”
The other man said, “Look, if I’m getting one hundred percent return in a year, it’s something I’m into.”
They all laughed hard, shook hands, and gave the pat-on-the-back type of hugs. Thorne said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Yeah, do that,” the man replied.
The three men left and he focused his attention on me. I stood up to shake his hand. He was just about as tall as I am with heels on. I estimated him to be about five foot eight. Standing eye to eye, we both smiled. His small eyes felt like they were serenading me as he said, “William Thorne. Pleasure to meet you.”
His smile was almost perfect and his facial structure was strong, but handsome. He wore black wire-framed glasses. His goatee was artistically shaped, almost neurotically aligned on both sides. My eyes directed their attention to his nicely shaped full lips, which were slightly darker, more pigmented than his cinnamon complexion. I was practically speechless as I stumbled to say, “London Reed. Pleasure to meet you too.”
His handshake was painfully strong and overconfident. He said, “C’mon in the office.”
His style was professional preppy. He wore stylish suspenders on his slacks. I guessed that he was about forty. As he walked in before me, I noticed his broad shoulders and could practically see the definition of every single muscle in his back. His torso was vee-shaped and his nice butt looked perfectly round in his pants. He was the finest businessman I’d ever seen and there had been plenty in my mother’s network. He appeared a lot younger than most of my mother’s friends.
He sat down behind his desk and I handed him a copy of my résumé. My previous employment had been grooming dogs at a pet store for two summers. The other was as a receptionist at a vet clinic. I shifted in my chair, because I didn’t have much experience or interest in corporate America. He tossed the résumé to the side and said, “So, tell me about you.”
Tell me about you, handsome. Luckily, not everything I thought came out of my mouth. I paused and finally said, “I’m a recent college graduate and I’m looking for a job that will allow me to use my skills and abilities to advance in the company.”
He leaned back in his chair and laughed. “So what book told you that’s what employers want to hear?”
“Well, not a book per se, but the placement office at my school had different workshops.”
“Judging from your résumé, that doesn’t seem like what you want. You can relax and be honest with me. This isn’t a serious interview. One of my best clients called to see if I had work for you. I’m just trying to get to know you, not necessarily interviewing you. So be real with me.”
“Well, let me say this. Right now, that’s what I want because I have bills. I like nice things. I like to go out. And I need to sustain those things.”
“You like to travel?”
“I love to travel.”
“Where’d you go last?”
“My friends and I went to Jamaica after graduation.”
“Cool. So tell me about your love for animals.”
My eyebrows scrunched. And he explained, “Well, it’s clear from your résumé that you’ve spent a lot of time with animals.”
I shrugged and looked around his office, trying to figure out if he too was a dog lover. There were pictures of a beautiful wife and three sons, but no dogs. I pressed my luck and proceeded to go through the long journey of how I had planned to be a vet, but the admission process was grueling. He said, “You should never give up on your dream.”
“I’m thinking about applying again in the fall. And I’ve decided to open a dog-walking service in the process. I hope that will make my application look better.”
I lied. The dog-walking service had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.
“You’re more like an entrepreneur.”
“I guess.”
“No, you are. Here’s the thing, administrative assistants come and go. So I’m always prepared for that. You have a bigger future than this place ahead of you. So here’s what I’m thinking, come work for me for a while. During that time you can be applying to school and running your service. As long as things are on the uncertain side, you stay. If anything pops off, you let me know and I’ll give you my blessing.”
Nodding anxiously, I said, “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”
“Good. My client speaks highly of your mother and it seems to me that she’s raised a focused young lady.”
“Thank you.”
He proceeded to tell me more about what I’d be doing as his second assistant. He had a cool older-guy swagger that made me blush whenever he spoke. Finally, when we were done, he stood and so did I. He escorted me all the way out to the floor lobby. When the elevator chimed, he lightly touched the small of my back. Chills ran up my spine as I stepped inside. He smiled. “I’ll see you next Monday.”
“You bet.”
The doors closed and my eyes rolled. He would make coming to work a whole lot easier. Though he had a somewhat stocky build, it looked like he didn’t have any body fat.
I needed to call my mother and let her know that was the hookup, but I couldn’t sound too excited. She’d be worried that I would like the job too much. Something was wrong with that lady. She had something against people who wanted to enjoy life.
I called her once I got back to the house.
“So, how did your first interview go?”
“Pretty good. He offered me the job.”
“And this is the investment banker. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe you can work your way into the field. They make great money. Did he make it seem like he’d mentor you in any way?”
“Yes,” I said, lying.
“Great. So that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about anymore. Are you sure you want to work for him or do you want to go on these other interviews?”
“No, I’m sure.”
I wasn’t interested in going on a bunch of interviews. Really I just needed to make some meantime money. She tried to advise me differently, suggesting that I didn’t want to make a decision with just one option. Whatever. I had a job and that still wasn’t enough for her.
4
By the time I started work the next week, I had booked three clients with a total of five dogs. Luckily the other three were smaller- to medium-sized dogs and I would be able to walk them all together. I went to get my big boys, Peter and Paul, later.
Thorne asked about my dog-walking schedule on the first day. He told me that as long as I got my eight hours in and he had everything he needed, I could come in as early as seven and leave at three. I was sold on that schedule. All of my clients were concerned about their late work schedules and wanted me there at least by five for the evening walk.
Corporate America wasn’t as bad as I had imagined it to be. The hardest part of working was dealing with the crowded subways and standing in heels all day. Many women would just slip into their tennis shoes after work, but I never found that look attractive. I felt
like I looked like a bum. On days when I was late picking up the dogs, I took them out in heels when I didn’t have time to change into sporty clothes. My mother had been so anal about everything that the dress-clothes-and-sneakers look just didn’t feel comfortable.
By October I’d gained some clients and lost others. What I learned was that owning your own business took diligence. There were no guarantees. You could have ten clients one week and two the next. The thing I liked about working for a company was that if you showed up every day there was a paycheck coming every other week. There were weeks when my own business paid more, but the very next it would pay very little. In addition to being a dog walker, I felt like I was a promoter, advertiser, and anything else it took to get my name out to potential clients.
I found myself throwing away most of my dog-walking money on shopping. Of the money I earned from work, I would give some to Kari to help with bills. I suggested we move into a two-bedroom, but she didn’t want to. She said it was too easy to let her parents pay for everything and that I should try to keep my money. So we continued to make my sleeping on the couch work. I was a neat freak so it also helped that with my room being the living room, the house stayed clean. Kari, on the other hand, could give a hoot about junk. The entire place could be filled with it and she wouldn’t notice. That drove me crazy and she claimed I was driving her crazy by moving her things each time she set something down. That was our primary argument. She didn’t get ticked off about much but when she couldn’t find something she’d go on a rampage.
I would remind her that she should put her stuff away. She’d never say this out loud, but I could feel that she was thinking, This is my damn apartment. Most of our issues were solved over a good drink. Being that we lived near any type of bar you wanted to go to, our disagreements were short-lived.
We argued in the morning because I had moved her paperwork and she couldn’t find her grade book. When I came in the house that evening from walking the dogs, she had changed her clothes and was ready to go. I said, “We going out?”
