Agency

In Which Two Men Who Don't Like Each Other At All Share a Very Small Elevator

the following Friday

It was a Friday morning. The rickety-but-charmingly-original elevator made its way from ground level to the second, third and fifth floors (the fourth floor having been mysteriously inaccessible by elevator as long as the Agency had been in the building). The claustrophobic compartment lurched hesitantly upward as if unsure of itself. The occupants, equally uncertain, studiously avoided eye contact. Niall leaned into his phone, pretending to absorb important emails. Berry stared intently at the illuminated "5" button as though by watching alone, he could ensure their safe delivery onto the executive floor.

When the doors finally slid open with a relieved sigh, the two men simultaneously hesitated, hands outstretched in the universal "no, please, you first" gesture that never really gets anyone anywhere.

Neither man moved to exit. Being closer to the doors, Berry gestured again, his hand hanging out into the landing. Niall stood still on principle, but his hand flagged just slightly indicating, perhaps, an unwillingness to engage much longer in this distinctly Canadian game of 'you first, no I insist.' Just as Niall was about to give in, the doors groaned (bored of this game themselves) and slid inward, trapping Berry's wrist in their maw.

Berry squawked in surprise, dropping his messenger bag to clutch at the doors. "Ow! Shit!" he said, trying to pry the metal open with his fingers.

"Jesus Christ," muttered Niall, who reached around Berry to stab the open button. "If you'd just go on out like a normal human being..."

The doors retreated, a little embarrassed, and Berry pulled his hand back with a gasp.

"There should be sensors!" he said. "Right? They shouldn't be closing on people like that." Berry looked to Niall for support. Niall, who wasn't in the mood for any more faffing around, pushed past Berry before the doors closed again and strode down the hallway toward his office.

***

Berry stood at the precipice of Scarberia (Allegra's office, that is, not the actual sort-of-city he grew up in) and knocked at the open door frame before pulling his wrist back into the cradle of his chest. "Hello?" he called into the large room. "Allegra?"

The desk was empty. A laptop stood open on it. A Starbucks cup perched beside it. Signs of life, then.

He took a step inside. He'd received an email from her (timestamped 5:15 am) asking him to pop in to see her first thing. He instinctively checked his phone for the current time. 8:20 am. Not terrible. Not late, at least. Not 5 am, of course, or whatever time she'd been here since - but not too bad for a Friday.

He made his way over to the credenza, observing the neat row of books lined up between a potted lily and a large metal three-hole punch.

For the most part, the books weren't surprising. They consisted of the usual corporate tombes — Radical Candor, Good to Great, a smattering of Malcolm Gladwell, ubiquitous in agency land. But one stood out to him as being out of place. A children's book: Oh the Places You'll Go by Dr. Seuss.  Interesting that an executive would have a copy of that tucked amongst her books.

Berry slid the picture book out. He put his bag down on the wooden floor and opened it to the first page, smiling at the familiar drawings. Flipping through it, he stopped in the middle. Where you wouldn't expect to see anything like it, there was a handwritten inscription. The penmanship was elegant and written in a deep indigo ink. "Guess we'll never know how it ends. Good luck across the pond. ~Archie"

Berry paused, eyebrow lifted. The humanity of the new Managing Director, having not been considered previously, surprised him. None of his business either, of course. Not wanting to be caught snooping, Berry snapped the picture book shut and slid it silently back into place before taking a seat in one of the chairs.

***

She appeared, after some time, with a file in her hand and a typically cool greeting.

"Bertrand, good morning," she said.

"Good morning," he replied.

As she settled behind her desk, she smoothed her expensive-looking cardigan across her hips and looked at Berry with a tight smile.

"Just looking for an update, please, on Atrabax. Contract in place, now, yes? Any issues? Have they agreed to the paid media budget upfront?"

"Oh. Well, we delivered the statement of work, but there's been no signature back yet. That's fine. Not unusual. Their legal department is always a bottleneck. We'll go ahead with the work and secure the placements on good faith." he says, unsure suddenly.

Allegra considered him openly.

"Trusting," she replied. "You're sure they'll be moving forward with it?"

Berry waved her concern away. "Of course, no, of course. Understandable that you'd worry, yes. But yes. I mean, yes, I think they're good for it. They're enthusiastic about the work. Already asking for us to deepen the concept. Events and things."

Allegra nodded at him. "Alright, then. I suppose we don't want to seem stingy. Just make sure you're following up on that paperwork."

He nodded and remained seated, waiting.

The oversized office echoed with an awkward silence.

"Coming to the little party later, I hope?" she said. "Would be good if you could say a few words. Rally the troops."

Berry nodded again. He would have thought Niall would be the one asked to speak - god knows the man couldn't get enough of the spotlight.

"Another thing," she added casually. "Do you have a dog?"

"A dog?"

"Yes, a dog. Waggy tail, four legs. You've heard of them I'm sure."

"Oh. Um. No. Although my girls would probably like one." he replied.

Allegra sighed and looked down at her file folder.

She didn't say anything further but motioned toward the door. Taking the cue, Berry picked up his bag and retreated toward the relative safety of the 2nd floor.

***

The moment Berry entered the accounts area, he could see Shanti at his desk, scribbling on a post-it note.

"Oh, there you are!" she said. "Was just leaving you a note. There's a guy in reception for you. Says you have a 9 am."

Berry scrunched his eyebrows and pulled his phone out to take a look at his calendar. True enough, there was a tentative booking there, but he didn't recognize the organizer.

"Who in the hell is Sylvio Carrera?" he asked out loud.

Shanti shrugged. "No idea. But, Berry, I have to warn you. Mercury's in retrograde? Not a good time for meeting new people or starting new ventures." She widened her eyes at him balefully and turned, jewellery jingling, back to her desk.