The Assistant

The Start of Something New

As the woman continued her walk, Valencia couldn't help but gawk at her. Ms. Medina, to Valencia, seemed much too young to be retiring. If she had guessed, Eliza would only be around her late thirties, but the strands of silver intertwined with her mane told Valencia she was wrong. Eliza's style is effortlessly chic and showcases a timeless sense of fashion. Her graceful movements exuded confidence, poise, and self-assuredness.

The woman's mere presence commanded attention, not by force, but through the sheer magnetism of her personality. The employees of Roman Industries quickly parted, letting her through, not because they feared her but because they respected her. Valencia hadn't noticed they had stopped walking or that she was still staring until Ms. Medina let out a soft giggle. Valencia shook her head in embarrassment and could tell by the burning in her cheeks that she was as red as a tomato.

"I-I'm so sorry, it's just that I'm a little surprised that you're retiring at such a young age. I was expecting someone–" Valencia's burned even hotter.

"Someone smaller, grayer, and more wrinkled?" Eliza laughed softly. "It's okay; don't worry about it. I'm flattered," she beamed. "My fifty-sixth birthday is next month," Eliza proudly stated.

"Holy shit," Valencia blurted, "you don't look older than thirty-six. Still, fifty-six is pretty young to be retiring. It's a luxury most people don't have."

"I like you," Eliza smiled warmly, "and you're right. I'm fortunate to be able to step away from working now. Mr. Ortiz appreciates his employees and pays his staff more than enough to live comfortably. He may be rich, but he understands that the world nowadays is an expensive one to live in. If his personnel are financially stressed, they won't work effectively here. Mr. Ortiz knows he can't take away all of their problems, but at least money won't be one of them. As his assistant, though, you'll be the highest-paid employee here next to him. Then you'll be able to retire at fifty, too." Her smile broadened, and a light ding sounded as the doors opened to a private elevator.

Eliza motioned Valencia to step in, and like a switch, she went from pleasantries to straight business. It was impressive.

"This is the only elevator that goes up to the thirtieth floor; all others only go as far as the twenty-ninth. Once we have collected all of your information, you will be given a card that will provide you with access to this elevator and every other door in this building. You and Mr. Ortiz will be the only two with full access to this entire building. Never forget that card. It will be your only way up and around." Eliza looked into her eyes and smiled reassuredly when Valencia nodded in agreement.

Eliza then continued, "If you lose it, not only will Mr. Ortiz be displeased with your lack of responsibility, but he'll also be very annoyed. Losing your card means all digital locks must be reset and passwords changed. It may sound excessive, but Mr. Ortiz is very private and despises distractions; if someone finds your missing key card, they now have access to the building and him, too. Roman Ortiz is a fair man, but he won't sit there and babysit you. He won't hesitate to fire you if you cannot meet his demands. This means I come out of retirement until I can find someone suitable."

She glared at Valencia playfully, making her giggle, "Got it. I promise I won't fuck this up."

The elevator gave another soft ding, and both women entered an open waiting area. "Absolutely no one has permission to come up here. Most of his appointments are held outside of the office. If anyone needs to see him here, more often than not, Mr. Ortiz will meet them on the twenty-ninth floor. This is where things start to get—eccentric," she paused and thought about what she wanted to say next. "No one here or out there knows what Mr. Ortiz looks like. As I mentioned, he loves his privacy, so many know him by another name. I'll go over that more as the day goes on," she smiled.