by Amara Kent
“Hello?” she answers cautiously.
“Hi, Skylah, it’s Kathryn, how are you?”
“Oh, Kathryn! I’m good, thank you. Is everything okay? Is there something wrong?” Her voices switches into panic.
“Yes, everything is fine. There is no need to worry. I just called to ask a question, as there was no mention of it in the notes you provided about Dean.”
“Oh! Oh, yes. Sorry. Um, go ahead.”
“In the time you have known Dean, specifically, the time you dated him, was he interested in call girls?” I ask slowly, knowing exactly how it sounds.
“Call girls? No, never.” She scoffs. “Then again, I thought I knew him. Clearly, I don’t,” Animosity flowed through the phone. So much, I could practically feel it.
“Hmm . It must be a new thing then. Thank you for clearing that up for me, Skylah.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t be of more help.”
“Don’t worry about it. You can’t advise what you don’t know. And in a way you did help. I now know that potentially this is a more recent change to his schedule. It shows that he’s acceptable to change and a little more flexible. I can work with this,” I console her.
“Oh, and I forgot to mention. Before I left, his PA Nancy, was talking about retiring. Now, I don’t know if she has gone through with it, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a look at their website for a possible PA job position opening.”
Oh, serendipity, how I love thee. I had wondered how I could work my way into his life, seeing as how there isn’t much about him on a personal note I could dig up. From watching him, he keeps himself in his office most of the time. The only moments with which he is not in the office is when he is meeting with clients. He holds this very professional demeanor. Never revealing more than he requires the other person to know.
“Thank you very much, Skylah, for the information. It helps immensely.” I beam.
“You’re welcome. Goodbye.”
I stick my tongue out and look at Kerri.
“Well?” she cries.
“Skylah has just informed me that potentially, there is a position up at Lukas Marketing and PR. Can you get onto their site and check it out for me?”
Her fingers deftly and with a speed I can’t even begin to grasp, have unlocked her computer and has the website up to the careers section. And as if this whole job was meant to be, it’s there written on the page. One of a few positions currently open is the job of Executive Personal Assistant to CEO Dean Lukas.
“That sounds like a more viable option. If you become his PA, then you can weasel your way into his life a lot better than if you were an outsider, depending on him contacting you back to make it work. With you working for him, he’ll have no choice but to communicate with you.”
I log into my computer and open up their website. Kerri pushes her chair next to mine and I make room for her to fit as well. Lukas Marketing & PR. There’s a chance that if there is a job vacant, that it will not be listed on their website. So many companies go through an agency to handle all their hires. A big company such as this would no doubt hire that company to post vacancies. I scroll down to the bottom and find the careers button and click on it. And in an even more serendipitous way, there is a current position opening for a personal assistant. This is an executive assistant title and will be working for CEO, Dean Lukas. It’s not a position I have ever done before, but I’m smart enough to be able to complete it without too many issues.
“How quickly can you create a résumé for me?” I ask Kerri.
“Won’t even take me a day. I can make you sound as if you shit nuggets of gold and piss rainbows.”
“Classy, Kerr, classy.”
She shrugs with a smile. “You still love me though.” She wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes.
“Yes, unfortunately I do. Okay, set one up and send it off.”
“On it, boss!” She salutes with two fingers.
………………………….
A week later. An excruciating week later, I receive a phone call to let me know that I have been asked to schedule an interview at my earliest convenience. I had forgotten how frustratingly long the waiting period is for job applications. I will admit that part of me was worried that I wouldn’t get called. Another part reverted back to the old me, when interviews were a necessity, and I prayed I would get a call. Of course, it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world if I didn’t get an interview with Lukas Marketing & PR, however it was the easiest way to get into his life, and I was all about making it easy for myself on jobs like these. Why make it harder than necessary?
I dressed appropriately. Not for Dean, but for the interview. Professionalism is key, and there is no way I will be seen with any kind of merit if I waltzed in there wearing something overly sexual. No, that would come later. Plus, I have a suspicion that his current PA will have a hand in who is chosen. So, a simple and classy outfit it is. A gray A-line skirt with a white blouse and a light jacket with sensible heels and my hair up in a pony with glasses. I don’t need them because I have contacts, but I figure… why not? A lot of men out there lusted for the sexy librarian look, and I had an inkling Dean did too.
“Are you ready for your interview?” Kerri asks as I place a cup of tall coffee on her desk.
“Sure am.”
She lifts her head, and then looks me up and down. Her scrutinizing expression coming out to play. After a minute she nods her head.
“Okay, I see what you’re going for. You’re there to win over the current PA, not Dean, aren’t you?”
I say Kerri and I are good friends, but we’re more like sisters. In fact, she knows me better than my actual sister.
“Of course.”
“Smart play. What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be heading over to the interview?” She frowns, glancing at her watch.
“I am. I had some time to kill, so I thought I would grab me and my bestie a coffee before I left.” I give her a toothy smile.
“Well, my body thanks your generosity. Thank you Tay Tay for this liquid diamond.”
Every time I hear her say liquid diamond it makes me giggle.
“The saying is liquid gold, you realize that, right?” I asked.
“Yes, but diamonds mean more to me than gold,” she explained.
“How so? Gold is worth more.”
“Because if I buy a piece of jewelry or accessory, I want it to have diamonds, not gold. Gold I can do without… diamonds, that’s my weak point.”
She slaps me on the arm. “Quit laughing at me!” she snaps.
“Well, quit saying liquid diamond! It sounds odd, and is incorrect,” I argue.
“How about you get the hell out of here and go to that damn interview of yours. I can’t have you being late and blow your chance.”
“Seriously, I came to get a second opinion. How does the wig look?” I ask.
I have naturally red hair, and while I adore the color, it’s not necessarily the best for what I do. Neutral colors like blonds, browns, blacks is common. Red, especially my shade of red, stands out like a beacon, I need to don a wig to blend in. If by chance one of my jobs turned sour, then I need to come across like most women in the world, and not a small percentage of it.
“Sit down for me,” Kerri instructs.
I do as I’m told and she circles me, almost predatory. She moves my head in different directions until seemingly satisfied she’s viewed me from all angles.
“Good. You can’t see your natural hair color at all. You’re getting better at this,” she congratulates me, clapping her hands.
I give a slight bow. “Good. It didn’t take as long as it had with the last one, and it doesn’t even feel as if I have one on. Where did you get this one again?”
“Online. It’s some brand from some celebrity.” She shrugs.
“Well, I love it! I won’t have to constantly scratch my head and look as if I’ve got lice.” I groan, remembering the job before this one. Wigs are awful thin
gs, and in the beginning I was against the whole thing, but Kerri pointed out the little factoid about red hair, particularly mine. Wig shopping is the worst, and most of the ones I have come across were itchy and were the most unrealistic looking things in the world. Even the ones that boast being real hair. I have no doubt it was real, but it didn’t come from no damn human that’s for sure. I was adamant it was horse hair, which is a completely different quality, and highly inaccurate for most people’s hair.
Kerri throws herself back in a fit of laughter. Yep, she’s remembering that time when I was out for lunch with Jarrod and his friends. My head did not like the wig she had bought me, and I made so many trips to the toilet that one of his friends had asked if I had a urinary tract infection. One of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever experienced in my life. Yes, it’s up there with being dumped by every boyfriend I’ve ever had.
“You’re such a bitch,” I snap.
“Oh, come on. As if you can’t laugh about it now!” she whines.
“I can’t. It was embarrassing! She asked the whole table, not just me!” I screech.
She laughs again, snorting this time and as she does almost falls off her chair.
“Okay, I’m going. Goodbye, diamond,” I tease getting up off my seat and planting a kiss on her cheek.
Kerri’s jovial tune changes instantly, and she’s now gifting me her middle finger, while wiping her cheek with her other hand.
I walk into Lukas Marketing & PR as if I own the place. Confidence is key, and in a place like this, being a meek little lamb is only going to have you thrown to slaughter. It’s very corporate chic. Modern in design, as soon as you step inside the building through its automatic sliding glass doors, you are welcomed by the air-conditioning doing its job. It’s not cold, nor is it warm. It’s perfectly room temperature, which is a desirable change from the outside weather. I like the heat, but only when I’m going to the beach or to a pool, not when I’m working and have to wear clothing that exacerbates the heat already hanging heavy in the air. To the right, there is a small café, and casual seating area to the left. It’s not as big as the other buildings that surround it, being only six floors, it’s like the short person of the group. However, despite its lack in size, it oozes corporate business. I make my way to the front reception desk and wait for the guy to notice me. When he does, he gives me a smile that seems way too perky for performing the menial task of greeter. You’d think he actually likes his job.
“Hello. Welcome to Lukas Marketing and PR, how can I help you?” he greets in an overly campy fashion. Yeah, he needs to take less of the happy pills each morning. This level of cheerful is damn near deafening. I feel as if my ears are going to start bleeding.
I force a smile to spread up on my face. “Hello, I’m here for my interview with Mr. Lukas,” I greet back, equally as annoying noticing his nametag and the name Simon on it.
“Can I have your name please?” he asks, picking up a list and waiting for me to provide him with my name.
“Tiffany Dunlop.” I know what you’re thinking. Awful name, but that’s the one that the name generator spat out at me. And yes, I know, it’s a lazy way to choose a name, but it’s also the easiest.
Simon scrolls through, tapping the end of the pen he’s holding twice on the piece of paper before crossing my name out. He reaches into the drawer next to him and pulls out a swipe card, attached to a lanyard.
“This is your visitors pass. It will allow you to get through the gates over there.” He points to the security entrance gates off to the right-hand side. “And take the elevator to the left up to the sixth floor, which is where Mr. Lukas’s and the Chief Operating Officer’s offices are located.”
“Thank you very much, Simon.” I graciously take the card from him.
“You’re very welcome. Good luck with your interview.”
I give him one last smile, before making my way through the gate, glad to get away from him. I’m not a happy person generally, it’s just the way I am. When I’m faced with overly happy people, I just wish I could blow my head off.
I follow the throng of workers, corralling themselves into the elevator. Everybody ignores me as they make idle chitchat with each other and discuss meetings and tasks and boring talk. By the time I arrive at the sixth floor, I’m the only one left in the elevator.
It’s sparse and quiet. Almost like a ghost town, with very little up here. I pass two boardrooms, a bathroom, a lunchroom, and a space directly opposite the bathroom which opens up into a cross section. To the left is Dean Lukas’s office, and his PA. She looks to be middle-aged. To the left is the office for Donald Masterson, who I read to be the Chief Operating Officer here. His PA is young and looks to be in her mid to late twenties.
“You must be Tiffany,” Nancy states, standing up and making her way over to me to shake my hand.
“Hello, Nancy, right?” I ask.
“Indeed. Mr. Lukas is still with the last candidate, so if you’d like to take a seat just out front, you can. If you would also like some water, I can get you a glass.”
“No, thank you, I’m fine. I’ll just take a seat and wait.”
“Very well, dear.” Nancy returns to her desk, and I take one of the seats outside his office.
I look around, and catch the eye of the other PA, who gives me a reassuring and supportive smile. I return hers with one of my own. A few minutes later, the doors to Dean’s office opens and out steps Dean and a girl who looks like she hasn’t even finished high school, let alone be old enough to apply for this job.
Dean ignores me, walking over to Nancy, who hands him a piece of paper, no doubt it’s my résumé. He turns and takes one look at me, and that’s it. There’s no ability to read what he’s thinking, because he’s stone cold.
“Tiffany Dunlop?” he asks. His indifferent tone marrying well with his expressionless face. It’s a shame that one must feel so above others, that they can’t twist their face into something of beauty. Or maybe it’s just to high-priced call girls and blondes off the street he wishes to give his time and facial muscles.
“Yes, Mr. Lukas.” I hold out my hand, because that’s what Tiffany would do. That’s what the old me would do, despite such a cold reception.
He takes one look at my hand, and if it wasn’t the first impression he offers me that has me wanting to drill a nail into him, it’s the subtle, yet somehow very loud eye roll he makes when he’s being forced to do something he doesn’t want to do. Like make contact with another human being.
His hand shake is limp, and feels more like a flaccid dick, and here I thought that all suits did nothing but show you their power through their handshake. A wordless message that states that they can and will crush you if need be.
I try not to show my contempt for this horrid man who is shaping up to be exactly how he has been deemed to be by Skylah and pull back my hand in a way that doesn’t give off the impression of hatred or vulnerability and oversensitivity.
“Come on in,” he welcomes in a rather commanding way, moving aside to let me into his office, closing the door behind me. “Take a seat,” he drawls.
I do as instructed and wait patiently for him to get himself sorted, which apparently takes a long time, involving him actually sitting down, and moving things around on his desk before he finally examines my résumé. Again, I get nothing from him. No nod of the head or murmur. Nothing.
Intimidation tactic 101. Here’s the thing about suits like Dean Lukas here. When conducting an interview, and let me tell you, that three quarters of the time, this task would usually be conducted by a member of the human resources team, not the king himself. I would give him a point for pulling himself away from his daily work schedule to conduct the interviews himself, however I feel that this is more of a show on control than anything. He’s begun his annoying little performance to me already.
1.Be a cold robot with no emotion
2.Take my time on things and make her squirm with the anticipation
&
nbsp; He’s going to take some time, making me sweat it out until he’s ready to proceed with the interview, which probably won’t be for another few minutes. Why? Because why not? Because is there really a reason he would need to do so? Or, the more likely of answers, is the fact that again, he wants to intimidate me, wants to see me become nervous and eventually trip over my answers. I may have never been a PA before, but I’m not vacuous in any sense of the word, and know that it will be a high-pressure job. In order to test out who will be the best potentials as his next PA, he needs to ensure that pressure is not even a word in the person’s dictionary. The best form of pressure in an interview, is allowing the interviewee to stew a lot in their own misery and anxiety. Not me though. I’m lucky enough that I’ve aced every one I’ve ever been on. I know how to work it to my advantage and flip it so that they want me, instead of the other way around.
“Your résumé is impressive,” he begins. “I only have one question for you. Why do you want to work for me?”
I want to make you fall in love with me so I can crush you in my hands and make you wish you were never born, I think. Only think. Never say.
“As you can see from my résumé, I’ve never worked within the marketing, advertising, or PR sector before, however, I do believe I have the necessary skills and abilities in order to be a good asset to your company and yourself. I applied for this job as I was seeking a change. Having gained all the experience I can at my previous job, I jumped at the opportunity to apply for this role as it would provide me with a new set of skills and experience. I am of the firm belief that one can never stop learning and growing.”
“Do you think you’re capable, with the—I’ll admit—rather impressive experience you have to successfully be my PA and do an excellent job at it? I require someone who needs little training, meaning the only thing they need to learn is how we run things here. I, nor does my current PA, have time to be training someone from the bottom.”
“You can see I have enough skills, and while I don’t know the ins and outs and nuances that are involved in a business such as this, I’m a quick learner and know that I’ll be able to do it with the highest level of satisfaction. I could certainly perform the role better than anybody else you will, and have interviewed today,”