The tale of how a good King learned to rule.
"BREON! BREON! I needed that expense report yesterday!" My boss Solice Michaels screeched my name without looking up, I was standing in the doorway, expense report in hand. She had a habit of calling my name. No, she had a habit of screaming my name; when, in general I was never more than 10 feet away from her, posted at my desk stationed directly outside her office door. She also had a habit of flaunting her raunchy knockoff designer suits around the office, habitually eating garlic or onion filled entrees for lunch, and immediately after lunch, having Major Leone, the new too-young-for-her intern who, apparently, planned on eating his way to the top of the corporate ladder.
She snapped her fingers and sighed impatiently at me, bringing me out of my reverie. I handed the report over immediately so she wouldn't sigh again, today was an onion day.
"Anything else Ms. Michaels?," I asked in my most pleasant voice.
"Coffee, two sugars, and cream, and not that terrible bitter stuff from the break room, run down to Starbucks. And when you get back I need that review Cameron sent edited and emailed to me so I can post it by tomorrow morning," again, she spoke without looking at me, scratching at her long nest of a weave with one finger. She waved me away with one hand.
What a difference a lay makes. Solice's standing after-lunch-meeting with Major had been cancelled today because he called In sick. Any other day I could count on her being at least tolerable for the rest of the afternoon after their meeting, but she was in rare form today.
I slipped behind my desk to change into my snow boots and braced myself for the chilling five block walk to the coffee shop. I'd found a great street parking space around the corner from the office, there was no way I was losing it for a stupid coffee run. I threw my scarf around my face and rushed out into the cold.
Limon, the interior design website I worked for sat in the middle of Chicago's downtown on the 23rd floor of a modern office building. The area was always packed this time of day, and I could never understand why Solice never got her own coffee while she was out for lunch instead of sending me on this pneumonia trek three times a week. I ignored the pleas for change from the various cup shakers and made It to Starbucks in record time.
"Hey Bre girl, how's it going with Cousin It today?" It was a lucky coincidence that my best friend Tracy worked one of her three jobs as a barista at this particular location. I never had to come out of pocket for Solice's coffee, since Tracy never charged me.
"Hey Tray, today's been worse than usual. The horny intern called in today so she didn't get her dessert after lunch." Tracy smiled and flipped her flawless 26-inch extensions out of her face.
"That man is too fine for her anyway, she better be glad I don't date younger men or he would be my dessert."
"Ew Tray," I pretended to gag, "He's repulsive, the way he swaggers out her office afterward and he's always adjusting himself in plain sight, the man has no shame."
"And with a body like that, why should he?" We stood there laughing while Tracy casually made my drink, ignoring the angry mob forming in line behind me. "So what do you have going on tonight Bre? Wanna come out for drinks after work?"
"Hmm... I don't know Tracy I'm really trying to save my money-" I quickly began calculating the cost of gas money to what ever out-of-the-way spot Tracy had in mind and the cost of a few drinks. Then, reminded of how the last time we went out for a casual night of drinks Tracy had gotten me drunk and tried to set me up with one of her associates from the call center she worked at, I paused, "This isn't a date is it Trace? You know I'm not going for that again," I eyed her suspiciously.
"No girl," she waved the idea away like it wasn't something she'd attempted on several occasions, "now come on I know you can afford it, you've done nothing but save money since the 7th grade, you need to have some fun.... And I miss you," she finished giving me a sad face and pouting her laquered lips. She really was the most fabulous thing I'd ever seen working in a Starbucks.
"I'll think about it" I replied rolling my eyes and grabbing the coffee, but she already knew I would come, I couldn't say no to her, I couldn't really say no to anyone, which was my problem. I bent my head, pulling my hood down to the top of my glasses and ducked back out onto the sidewalk.
I had always been very shy and reserved behind my glasses. No one knew about my great ideas because I was too afraid to speak up and suggest my ideas in fear of confrontation with Solice and others like her who had plagued me my entire life. The truth was I could do her job better than her any day and finish all her tasks before noon. I often did do her job, creativity came naturally to me; she was the type that had to work for it.
Back at the office I raced to finish my work before the 3pm meeting we had every Thursday.
The meeting dragged on, led by Jacqueline London, founder of Limon. She was an older lady, about 57 if I had to guess, but she didn't look a day over 40. Jacqueline had started Limon as a small monthly publication when she was in her 30s, but when the internet took off she had published a site and it had grown to one of the most revered fashion magazines in the country. She carried herself with an almost regal grace but was surprisingly down to earth, she was my idol, the only reason I continued to endure Solice and work here. I usually really enjoyed these meetings and took any opportunity I could to soak up any advise she had to offer, but today I really just wanted the work day to be over with already.
"The final order of business," she spoke in her clipped South African accent, my ears perked up to hear about the retreat next month, "is the Limon annual Jamaican retreat, this year we have room for 30, 15 associates and 1 guest. After upper management there are spaces for five others, instead of choosing by seniority, I've decided to do it a little differently this year. I want to light a fire under all of my employees, you have all been hired for a reason, I would like to see some of my fresh faces rise to the occasion, so the last five spaces are open to everyone. If you would like to be considered please write your name, job title, and a short description of why you would like to come to the retreat on a slip of paper and get it to my mailbox no later than 8am on Monday morning." Without another word she stood gracefully in her wine colored cashmere Gucci suit and sauntered out.
As soon as she was out of earshot the room began to rumble with excited chatter. Everyone was shocked by the prospect of attending the retreat, it was every year, seven days vacation with pay, all expenses paid for you and a guest at some luxurious locale around the world. That was another thing about Jacqueline, she was very generous, she expected hard work from all of us and she only hired the best, but we were all rewarded handsomely. That was how I was able to have over 30,000 dollars saved by 25 working as an assistant to a Junior editor. I had to admit I was even a little excited by the far off prospect that she might pick me.
