“These offices are reserved for the human resource directors at each division. Each director has his or her own staff, including their own secretaries, so you won’t be answering phones for them, unless some rogue call comes in that you might need to forward. That said, what you need to be aware of is that you’ll be answering an unlimited amount of hopeless calls from people trying to make their way to me. We’ll get to that later. For now, let me outline where each director sits. The director of human resources for Wenn Publishing has her office there,” she said as she pointed to the office directly at my left. “And that office belongs to the director of human resources for Wenn Entertainment,” she said, pointing to the office next to it. “The one beside it is for the director of human resources for Wenn Pharmaceutical.”
She continued to tick off whose office was whose until we finally came upon her own office, which was to my right.
“I’m there,” she said. “But you already know that. And I will be keeping an eye on you, Madison, just to make sure that things are going smoothly. If they aren’t, I will intercept. Do I expect perfection from you within a week? No. But within a month? Absolutely, because none of this is rocket science, particularly for a hard-luck Harvard grad like you. Mistakes will be made as you become familiar with the job and with my frequent flights of fancy, but I expect a diminishing set of returns over time. Understood?”
“I will do my best,” I promised.
“I don’t see that you have any other choice. But to ease your mind, know that I’ve instructed Margaret to set aside three full days to train you, and also to take you on a full tour of Wenn so that you will have a feel for where all of the different departments are located. Margaret and I both believe that that should be enough time for you to be properly trained and for you to get settled. A moment ago, I mentioned that you also will be answering phones. I take calls from a very select group of people whose names I will send to you in an email. Print it out. Memorize it. If that person’s name isn’t on the list, then that call should be referred directly to Margaret, or to one of the specific divisions I’ve already outlined for you.”
And then, for a reason I couldn’t understand, she folded her arms in front of her chest and looked sternly at me.
“What you also need to know is that there is an empty office straight across from you. Late yesterday afternoon, I met with Alex and Jennifer, and it was decided that Brock Wenn—for the interim—will occupy that office because they want me to oversee him for now. They are very close to deciding where he’ll land at Wenn, but they first want to test his strengths and weaknesses. To do that, they’ve charged him to write a report on some biotech that Alex and Jennifer are considering buying—or not. It’s up to Brock to convince them either way.”
I almost tingled at the news. The fact that the man I saw yesterday was going to be sitting in an office directly across from me was something I’d never expected, and the idea of it nearly did me in.
How am I going to get any work done with him just twenty feet away from me?
“And I must say this,” Blackwell said as she leveled me with a glance. “I was not unaware of the way that the air shifted between the two of you when you were first introduced yesterday. I actually felt it, so here’s what you need to understand going forward. Both of you have jobs that are on the line, and because of that, I can promise you this. Right now, each of you is being tested, so it’s in your own best interests to simply focus on your jobs and forget about whatever hormones passed between the two of you yesterday. Because if you are to keep this job—and to climb the Wenn ladder, which you have already claimed to me is your aim—I’m expecting nothing but focus and results from you, Madison. And that man? That man will only distract you from your goals, which will lead to no good. Are we clear on that?”
Ab-so-lute-ly not.
“We’re clear,” I said.
“I hope so,” Blackwell said. “Because I’m here to tell you that I will tolerate nothing that leaves that pretty head of yours in a fog. You are being paid handsomely to be my personal assistant. While most of the time you’ll simply be at my beck and call, part of your job is to serve as a buffer between me and all of those directors I’ve already mentioned to you. And here’s what you need to know about them, Madison. Those people? Those people all want a piece of me, which is the very reason for Margaret’s promotion—and for your hire. Every director now knows that they are to answer directly to Margaret first, but does that mean that they won’t pull something on you or on her in a bleak effort to try to get to me? Of course not—they will. I already know that they will. So does Margaret. And by the end of the week, I expect you to know exactly how to shelter me from them. Steer them toward Margaret. Keep them at bay. And don’t disappoint.”
“It seems to me that Margaret is your real assistant,” I said.
“Not true,” Blackwell said. “You both play a critical yet separate roll. At this point in my career at Wenn, I’m being pulled in so many directions, the less I’m involved in the day-to-day grind of small HR matters, which Margaret can handle with ease, the better it will be for everyone. If Margaret believes that I should be involved, I trust her judgment implicitly and will step in. This whole restructuring that we’ve done is to allow me to be more accessible to Alex and Jennifer when they need me, which is increasing steadily. Understood?” she said.
“Understood.”
“On your desk you’ll find the necessary paperwork to fill out so you can become an official Wenn employee. If you have any questions about benefits, retirement, or whatever, don’t come to me. Go to Margaret. And when everything has gone to Margaret, let me know so that I’ll know that you’re ready to get to work.”
“May I ask what time you usually arrive?”
“Why?”
“So I can arrive earlier if you need me to be here earlier.”
That caught her offguard—but only for a moment. “I arrive at five sharp,” she said. “And while I appreciate the offer, I arrive early to have two hours to myself before the onslaught begins. You are to come at seven. As for today? Let’s just hope that you have a good deal of endurance, Madison, because today you’re going to wish that you’d been running marathons for the past year.”
And when she said that, I knew why Rhoda had suggested that I bring a pair of running shoes with me before I left the apartment.
CHAPTER FIVE
I was in the middle of filling out my paperwork when people started to arrive for work.
As with any new job, I was nervous being the new kid on the block, but also relieved when so many people came up and introduced themselves to me. I met all of the various directors, much of their staffs, certainly all of the secretaries I’d be calling on at any given point, and then I met Margaret, who couldn’t have been much older than I was, and whom I liked immediately. Every one of them seemed pleasant and professional, which was a relief after the hell I’d just been through with Blackwell.
And then in walked Brock Wenn himself.
Because he stopped in Blackwell’s doorway with his back to me, I saw him before he saw me—and I have to say, given how long it had been since I’d been with a man, that there was something about this man that drew me toward him in ways that usually told me to run in the other direction. I had no idea what was different about him, but I couldn’t deny what I felt. Brock Wenn was nothing short of strikingly good-looking, and my hormones went into overdrive before I quickly looked away so Blackwell wouldn’t catch me staring at him.
I pretended to continue to fill out my paperwork while I listened to their conversation.
“Well, well,” Blackwell said to Brock. “Good to see you. And I have to say that you look handsome. Perfect suit. Brooks Brothers?”
“It is,” he said in his baritone voice.
“Given what Madison is wearing, it’s refreshing to see a suit that’s actually been properly tailored.”
He looked over at me when she said that, our eyes met, and I felt his g
aze sweep over my body—and then he gave me a discreet wink that seemed to suggest, “Don’t worry about this—I’ve got your back.”
“What’s wrong with what Madison is wearing? She looks terrific. You know, I might have been gone for a few years—”
“To Wharton,” she interrupted. “Where apparently you overachieved and forgot about the rest of us.”
So, he’s a Wharton grad? I thought. Promising. . . .
“Yeah, to Wharton. But whatever. And I never forgot about anyone, so let’s put that on the record. That said, what I do remember when I was a kid is that sometimes you can be a bit harsh.”
“Moi? Never. I speak the truth—always.”
“Not in Madison’s case you don’t.”
“Anyway,” Blackwell said, almost too quickly as I heard her stand up. “Enough of Madison. You have paperwork to fill out if you want to work here, which I presume that you do.”
“I do.”
“Then come with me,” she said, taking him by the arm as she stepped out of her office. “Your office is just over here. You’ve already talked with Alex about what he and Jennifer expect of you?”
“I have. I’m researching a new biotech that is on the verge of going into final trials for some hot new breast-cancer drug they have in development. Last night, I read up on them—what they’ve been working on sounds promising on the surface, but we’ll see. I’ve agreed to write a report so that Wenn Pharmaceutical can decide whether they should consider a buyout.”
“Last night?” she said, just loudly enough so that I could hear her. “Well, there’s real commitment for you. Staying up late to focus on your work. Good for you. I hope it didn’t get you into any trouble with your girlfriend. . . .”
“Girlfriend?” he said. “I live with two roommates in the Village—male roommates. I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”
“Oh?” Blackwell said. “No time at all?”
No time at all?
“I’m focused on my career right now. A girlfriend can wait.”
“So sensible,” she said. “Because after all, at your age, career is key. How old are you now? Twenty-eight or so?”
“Twenty-seven.”
We’re the same age, I thought.
“Then good for you for staying the course. When you lean into your thirties, you’ll still be a powerhouse of good looks, and the women will flock to you. But career first. And then a girlfriend in, oh, three or so years from now.”
“That’s the plan,” he said. “Unless the right woman comes along.”
“She won’t.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I just know it.”
“My mother wants me to be engaged now.”
“Well, Ruth always has been nothing if not a rock of insanity sitting alone in an unsteady sea, hasn’t she? But we both know that, so enough about Ruth. Anyway, here is your office,” she said. “I hope that it suits. You’re on this floor because I’m to oversee you in case you have questions. Your computer is there. There are pens, pencils, and other office-related things all around you. If you need anything else to help you write your paper, just ask Margaret and she’ll supply you with whatever you need. And listen to me on this—take your time when it comes to writing that paper, make sure that it’s perfect, show it to me if you want to, and then you can take it to Alex and Jennifer. At that point, we’ll see where you land at Wenn.”
“Done,” he said. “And thanks, Barbara. It really is good to see you again.”
“Agreed. I’ve missed you, you horrible boy.” She paused for a moment and seemed to reassess him. “Although maybe that’s not quite fair—you seem somehow different to me. Not quite so brash. Not quite the womanizer I used to know.”
“That’s because I’m not.”
He was a womanizer?
“Music to my ears, even if I don’t believe it for a second.” She clapped her hands in front of her. “So! Get settled in. See Margaret once you’ve filled out your paperwork. And then continue on with your research.”
“Will do,” he said.
When Blackwell left his office and walked past me, I caught a look of suppressed glee on her face, and I knew what had caused it. Brock Wenn was off the market. He was in this for his career. She knew that I’d heard every word of their exchange, and as far as she was concerned, she’d triumphed in sending home a message she thought I clearly needed to hear.
Brock Wenn was off limits to me.
But an hour later, after I’d finished filling out my own paperwork, Blackwell was busy chatting away on her phone when the computer closest to me dinged. How could it be that I’d already received an email, unless it was perhaps from Margaret? I glanced over at the screen and saw that Wenn obviously had an instant-messaging system in place to communicate internally.
And there was a pop-up message waiting for me.
It was from Brock, which surprised me, and after I read it, I just stared at it before I looked up at him and caught the smile on his face. “You really do look terrific,” he’d written. “Don’t let her get you down. Deep within her, she actually has the potential to be a good person—believe it or not.”
Maybe to you, she does. But when it comes to me, she’s about as nice as a stray cat tormented by mange.
I saw that there was more to the message and scrolled down to finish reading it. “I don’t know many people here, so with us being the newbies and all, would you be interested in having coffee with me tomorrow morning? We could meet somewhere at six before we come to work. If you’re worried about Blackwell, don’t be. I promise that it will just be two colleagues enjoying coffee and getting to know one another. Nothing more.”
With a sense of certainty I felt whirling within my gut, I knew that that was a lie. Brock Wenn was interested in me. But Blackwell had just mentioned that he was once a womanizer. Was that still the case? And with Blackwell so firmly against us having anything to do with each other, I had no choice but to wonder what kind of dangers having coffee with him would pose to my career here if somehow she found out about it. Because if she did find out, she’d have my head.
I thought about it for a moment, and then I figured that the chances of that happening were so low, why the hell not? It was my Summer of Resolve, after all, and I was nothing if not attracted to him. So, I responded to him with this: “Coffee at six sounds nice for a couple of newbies. Where do you have in mind?”
“How about the Starbucks inside Trump Tower? It’s not far from here.”
My heart was hammering in my chest when I wrote: “Perfect. See you tomorrow at six.” Thinking that this conversation was over, I shut down the message, glanced up at him, saw that he was looking at me with an intensity that unnerved me, and then, perfectly rattled, I pretended to look over my paperwork a final time.
Blackwell was still on the phone, but it sounded to me as if she was wrapping up her conversation when my computer dinged again. And when it did, I almost panicked because I heard Blackwell say, “Right, right. Let me look into that and I’ll get back to you shortly.” I read the message as quickly as I could. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Madison. But I’ll leave you alone for now, as much as I don’t want to. So, until tomorrow. —Brock.”
The moment I clicked off the message, I heard Blackwell call out to me. “Madison?” she said. “Would you come here, please?”
Great, I thought as I stood up and faced her. She’d been aware of this the entire time. . . .
I went to her door. “Yes, Ms. Blackwell?”
“Coffee,” she said. “Rapidement! Let it cool for precisely one minute before you bring it to me, otherwise it will be too hot, and that won’t do. Also, after that particular telephone conversation, I need a fresh glass of ice.”
“A glass of ice?” I asked.
“Yes. Ice. Fill a glass to the top with it. I crunch on it throughout the day while thinking of all the people who dare to overstep my authority. I bite down on each cube as if it were so
meone’s head.”
Lady, how about having your own head checked?
“Would you like anything else?” I asked, relieved that none of this was about why I was clearly using the instant-messaging system.
“Not now, but at noon, you’ll be consumed. So, be prepared for that, because it’s coming.”
CHAPTER SIX
Later that day, after filling out all of my paperwork, handing it over to Margaret, and then looking through some of the red folders so that I could get a feel for what types of HR issues rose to Blackwell’s level, it was nearly noon when she called me into her office.
“Madison,” Blackwell said. “Would you come here, please? There are certain things I need you to do tout-de-suite.”
“Of course,” I said. I stood up from my chair, caught Brock lifting his head and watching me as I smoothed away any wrinkles from my skirt, and then, feeling a bit flustered by his attention, I went to her doorway with a legal pad and pen at the ready.
“Why do you look flushed to me?” she said.
Not again. . . .
“Am I?”
“You are.”
“I’m not sure. . . .”
“Are you warm?”
Apparently, one look from that man is all it takes for me to become an inferno, Ms. Blackwell.
“Not particularly.”
“Hmmm. All right, fine. Perhaps you have hypertension—look into it. But first, two things. I’d do the first one myself, but obviously, at this point, I trust Tiffany implicitly, so I’ll just leave it to you. I need you to stop by their store on Fifth and collect a necklace recently fitted for Jennifer. Then I need you to go to my favorite little takeout spot on Park, Le Salade, and get me a large serving of roughage.”
“Roughage?”
“Lettuce greens. If you weren’t so slim, I’d suggest that you pick up a salad for yourself and enjoy. But that’s not the case, so be it. However, if you are hungry, I highly suggest that you try one of their salads. You can eat it at your desk, if you’d like. Here’s what I want in mine. Are you ready? You need to be, because it’s my only meal of the day, and it can’t disappoint.”
Ignite Me (The Annihilate Me Series) Page 4
