Noah

by Allison LaFleur

  I had five minutes to finish up and head to class. At the rate I was going, I would never finish my degree, but I was sure going to try. “Doris! I’m leaving!” I shouted as I grabbed my coat and books and flew out the door.

  “Oh, excuse me.” I said, bumping into my neighbor as I scurried down the hall.

  “Mmmmph.” She mumbled something indecipherable as she ducked her head to hide her blooming black eye and scuttled past me to take her trash out back to the dumpster. She reminded me of my mother—stooped, hair prematurely gray, long sleeves hiding the marks of her husband’s love.

  I hoped I’d made a good impression on Mr. Tander at work that day. With the little I earned as the lowest of the low in the secretarial pool, I was never gonna earn enough to get out of that apartment. I couldn't share a room with my three sisters forever. Life as an unpaid babysitter and part-time punching bag held no appeal. This isn’t all there is to life, is it?

  I thought my father would blow a gasket the last time I even mentioned moving out. He called me an ungrateful child, said I was abandoning my family in their time of need. Of course, we wouldn’t need so much if he didn’t blow it all at the pub.

  I thought the world was going to end three years ago when my father got injured at the mines. A coal cart came loose and ran over his leg. He couldn’t work for a year and was left with a permanent limp. After that, they only let him do odd jobs around the yard since he couldn’t walk well enough to go down into the mines. Big man that he was, he worked three hours a day, took what little pay he got, and went to the bar to drink it away.

  All I wanted to do was escape. I won’t fail. I can’t. I won’t become my mother. When he got injured, I had to drop out of high school and get a job. Who hires a girl with no high school diploma?

  As much as Daddy hated the time I spent studying, I stayed up late into the night, poring over text books, and finally got my GED. I was determined to make something of myself.

  Lost in my musings, I stopped at a red light just in time as a car blasted past. I watched it pass before crossing the street and continuing down the sidewalk to night school. No matter what it took, I was going to be somebody.

  Chapter Four

  Noah

  “Mom, this is crazy. “ I paced back and forth in front of her, my hands in my pockets to hide my clenched fists.

  “No, Noah. You need to present the right image. When you make your run for governor, you need to be the perfect candidate. No skeletons in your closet, no loose women. We managed to bury that little indiscretion when you were a teenager. Now it’s time for you to start building your image.”

  “Mom,” I took a deep breath and willed myself not to roll my eyes at her. “I keep telling you, I don’t want to go into politics.”

  “Noah, stop pushing. It’s time to stop rebelling and grow up. This is part of your duty to this family, to your heritage.” She patted her perfect hair and brushed invisible dust off her skirt.

  “You know this is not who I am. It’s not who I want to be.” I pulled a chair up across from her and sat down, putting my head in my hands.

  “Nonsense, Noah. Buck up. You are a Hendrix. Your father would have been president if he hadn’t had the heart attack. You know he was leading the poles in the primary. Instead, he had to settle for keeping his existing seat in the senate. You are the heir to the Hendrix fortune. This is your birthright”

  “Gah! Mom, you know I hate public speaking.” Sure, I was raised a Hendrix. I commanded a room when I walked in, but running a company and leading a board meeting were totally different from the showmanship and acting required for politics.

  “Noah.” She sat there and stared at me until I looked back at her. “You owe it to this family and to the United States to give something back. You are smart, you are handsome, and you have a head for business. You can make this country great. Now get with the program. This is happening.”

  “Fine, but if I do this, I need more than just the Hendrix name. Give me access to part of my inheritance. I have been talking to Hank Tander. If I bring the financial backing, he will let me start up a biotech division. I can continue the research I started in college with John Alexander. Standing up with the experience of a successful company behind me will make me more appealing to the public.”

  My mother sat at her writing desk, a force to be reckoned with. Her elegantly appointed receiving room was designed to showcase her power and position. Not one gray hair was allowed to mar the perfection of her appearance. She got a cut and color every four weeks with a standing appointment on her calendar. Her nails bore a beautiful understated French manicure, nothing gaudy, no chewed nubs. Even at home, she was dressed to be seen—a neat linen skirt, a perfectly pressed blouse, her legs crossed demurely at the ankle.

  “A solid financial holding in a reputable company would serve you well. Very well.” She slid her designer reading glasses on and pulled out an unused sheet of writing paper. “Here. Go see the family trust attorney.” She wrote quickly, her script flowing across the page, not a line or a letter out of place. “Give him this letter.” She signed it, blotting her signature, folding it in thirds, and then sealed the envelope with our family crest. “He will help you set up the funding. Don’t screw this up, Noah. The primary nominations are in six months.”

  Chapter Five

  Noah

  “I said I wanted thirteen copies of the presentation handouts, collated and stapled. What is this mess you brought me?" I tossed the stack of errors at my already disorganized desk. “This is ridiculous!” My timid temp ran crying from me.

  “Doesn’t anybody around here listen?” I asked my empty office. I felt guilty about yelling at yet another candidate, but she had only been there an hour, and I was already fed up with her.

  What is Tander thinking? I wondered if he and Mrs. Buckingham were deliberately trying to drive me insane. Everyone they sent me these last three weeks has been completely incompetent. Pretty faces with no brains. Where do they find these women?

  I grabbed my phone and dialed Mrs. Buckingham’s extension. “Hello… Yes… May I see you in my office?” Things could not go on like this. I was getting nothing done.

  I sat back in my chair as I waited and wished Maude had not retired last month. She had been my father's secretary and kept his office running like clockwork. She was always quick to tell me when I was being an ass, and I swear she could read my mind. He always said she was indispensable.

  "Mr. Hendrix, sir? Can I help you with something?” Mrs. Buckingham appeared in the doorway. “Louise says you were unhappy with her performance." The older woman stood there wringing her hands with her legs encased in thick stockings and her feet in sturdy, sensible shoes. She had a stiff cardigan wrapped around her shoulders, even though I was sweating as the air conditioning failed to keep up with the summer heat. She slowly walked in and stood before me, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Yes. She is useless just like all the others.” I clicked the end of my pen in irritation. “I don't know why none of these women you send me can think for themselves.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Hendrix. Can you tell me a bit more what you are looking for?” She appeared even more nervous than when she’d arrived. Her wrinkled hands fidgeted with the chain on her glasses, and the beads made little clinking sounds.

  “I need someone who can do more than just take notes. I have a meeting to prepare for. I need documents to hand out and someone who can put them together with the information I give her. I need to give a good presentation to the board I am assembling, and I want to use PowerPoint for emphasis.

  “Ahhh… Mr. Hendrix, sir, I'm sorry you're upset. Um, our secretarial pool can definitely provide you with a fill-in secretary until you find someone more to your liking.”

  “I certainly hope so because so far none of these women are acceptable.” I stood and looked down at her, unfairly using my height to further intimidate the poor old woman. It may have been cruel, but I was seriou
s. I didn’t have time to placate her anymore.

  “Mr. Hendrix, ahhh… computer skills are not a standard part of our secretarial training here. I am not sure what I can… uh… do, but… um… I will go ask the girls if any of them are familiar with—what was it? PowerPoint?"

  “No computer skills? Really? Then what the hell are they supposed to be helping me with? The last one was barely conscious. She brought me thirteen copies of the handouts, with the lunch menu from down the street in the middle! How can you not notice a mistake like that?!”

  Her watery eyes peered through her bifocals. "I do have one girl you might want to try.” I could tell she was grasping at straws. “The girl who took notes at your first meeting with Mr. Tander.” She looked pensive. “She's been attending that newfangled secretarial college. Says she’s going to get herself a college degree. She might be more familiar with the skills set you require.”

  “Anything would be better than what you’ve offered me so far. Send her up.” I didn't even remember the woman that sat in the corner scribbling notes at that meeting.

  “She’s a bit of a mousy thing, but you two might just fit.” She looked surer of herself. Mrs. Buckingham stopped fidgeting with the chain on her glasses and stood still.

  “Oh, yes!” I vaguely recalled a quiet, slim girl whose hot body had been hidden under plain clothes. I hadn’t noticed much else. I shrugged. At that point, I was willing to try anything. "Sure, send her in.” I threw up my hands and turned back to my mess. What did I know? Maybe politics was all I was really cut out for.

  I never heard Mrs. Buckingham leave, but a few moments later there was a gentle knock at the door. “Excuse me, sir. Mr. Hendrix, my name is Lena. Mrs. Buckingham sent me up to help you today." I turned at the sound of her voice.

  She really was a mousy little thing. Her clothes were worn but clean. She wore sheer stocking over fabulous legs and short heels on her feet. Her hair she’d scraped back into a severe bun, and her flawless face was free of anything but clear lip gloss.

  "I hope you have more brains than the others. I have a big presentation to get ready for and very little time." Brusquer than I meant to be, I was so far behind I didn’t have time for pleasantries. I wasn’t even sure where to begin.

  "Absolutely, sir. Where would you like me to start?" My tone didn’t even phase her. I raised an eyebrow. She simply stood there and looked at me, waiting for instructions.

  "I have no idea, Miss Bishop. The other women brought me all this stuff, and it’s not what I need." I gestured to mountain of papers covering my desk. The handouts sat in a pile with the lunch menu on top, and everything else was a disorganized mess.

  "Let me take a look at what you have." She pursed her lips and approached my desk, coming to stand next to me. Hands on her hips, her eyes lit on each of the papers and files spread across it. She reached out, flipping up one file to look underneath. "What are you trying to present? I understand you want handouts, but how are you going to do your presentation?"

  "Can you use a computer?" I asked, sizing her up.

  "I can. I’ve been taking classes in night school. They teach word processing and PowerPoint."

  "Thank God!” I instantly felt a weight lift off my shoulders. “I need this before the lunch meeting scheduled at noon.”

  “Yes, sir. Do you have the materials you want me to turn into your presentation?” She stood there, hands behind her back, looking up at me expectantly.

  “Yes.” I dug for a folder buried at the bottom of the pile. “This is what I will be presenting. Each page is numbered in the order I need the material.”

  “Do you prefer pie charts or bar graphs?”

  “Either will be fine. When that is done, this goes into the handouts for the members of the managerial team. Jake down in communications says I can use this projector, but I've never used one."

  “I can take care of that. Give me a few moments to organize this, and I would be happy to help you.” I watched her walk to my computer, the one I hadn’t even turned on yet, bending at the waist to boot it up. She looked at home with the machine, moving the mouse around and clicking on something on the screen. “Looks like everything I will need is here.” She looked up at me, back arched, breasts pushing against the thin material of her blouse, and I had to avert my eyes. Get it together, Noah. She’s your secretary, and you have a job to do!

  No longer useful, I stood by the terminal for a moment, studying her face. It held an intelligence that had been missing in all the others. Eyebrows drawn, she pored over the papers I’d given her, pulling my chair out and sitting down. She pursed her lips, looking back and forth between the monitor and my papers. Satisfied, she stood, her small hands making quick work of sorting the mess into 13 neatly organized handouts. Taking out the duplicates, collating, and finally stapling the packets, she presented them to me.

  “Here,” she said, “these should work unless you want me to redo them.” Lena nodded.

  After three weeks of women standing and waiting for to me to tell them every step, it was a welcome relief for it to be done. I needed a secretary to do more than take notes, type up a report on a typewriter, and bring me coffee.

  "Is this everything you have for the presentation?” she asked as she typed in the data.

  “It is. I’m just worried it's very plain."

  "That's not a problem. I can change the background of the slides and apply different designs." She sat back down and went to work, adding tables and graphs to the presentation. As the job got done, she had me point to what I liked, adding a touch of color here and there. With ten minutes to spare, I had a dazzling presentation of my vision for the biotech division ready to show all the managers. Hallelujah! I think I’ve found my secretary!

  Chapter Six

  Lena

  “Here.” Noah didn’t even look up as I walked into the office with fresh coffee. He just thrust a folder at me like he’d been expecting me for a while. “Call John Alexander and ask him to come in for a meeting. Try to get him here for lunch. That way it won’t seem so formal.”

  “Yes, sir.” I set his cup on his desk and took the folder from him. Mrs. Buckingham had just told me I was assigned to him for another day. With the second steaming cup clutched in one hand, I turned to go to the empty desk I had been using.

  “Wait!” He held up a crumpled page of illegible squiggles with a large coffee stain across one corner. “Type this up. This is what I want to talk to John about.”

  I tucked the folder under one arm and reached out, gingerly taking the damp sheet between two fingers. “I’ll get right on it, sir.”

  “Oh! And call Mrs. Buckingham! You need your own computer. Have her send one up.” He scratched his head like he was thinking. “I can’t wait to talk to John. We did this project in college on monoclonal antibodies and delivering chemotherapy directly into cancer cells. I think it would be perfect for us to expand on. We found this one…” He paused and flicked his deep blue eyes upward. “I think we were on to something big.”

  “Yes, sir.” My mind raced to remember all his instructions. I really wished I had a hand free and something to write on. I hadn’t expected him to be quite so deep into his day already. It was only 8:30. Don’t rich men sleep late?

  “Oh! And remind me again—what’s your name?” Already dismissed, I stood there awkwardly as he went back to his work.

  “Lena, Mr. Hendrix. My name is Lena.” I spun on one heel to go back to my desk when he spoke again.

  “Lena, let me know when you get ahold of John.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And tell Mrs. Buckingham you needed that computer yesterday.”

  “Absolutely, sir.” I nodded over my shoulder and continued on. My palms were damp. This was not going to be one of those easy positions all the office girls bragged about around the water cooler. I hoped I was up to the challenge.

  Buzzzzzzz!

  “Yes, Mr. Hendrix?” I stuck my head back around the corner.

 
“And tell them you need a phone. You can’t be running back here every time I need you to do something.” He looked cute with a pair of wire rimmed reading glasses perched on the end of his nose like a little boy playing dress up.

  “I’m on it, sir.”

  This might just be a little fun. Too bad it wasn’t a full time thing. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of telling Mrs. Buckingham what I needed instead of the other way around.

  “Lena…” My head bobbed upon hearing my name. Mrs. Buckingham stood by my desk in her cozy cardigan. “Mr. Hendrix has requested you be assigned to him permanently for the duration of his time at this office.” My ears perked up. The assignment sounded like a much needed step up for me.

  “He’s very impressed with your skills these last few days.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Buckingham.”

  “He claims you saved his presentation.” Her double chin wobbled, and she had a sour look on her face like she was sucking on a lemon. Forwarding compliments must have been killing her. “From now on, you will report directly to him.”

  I tried unsuccessfully to hide my smile. YES! Inside, I was freaking out. The little girl in my psyche, the one who was constantly seeking approval, jumped up and down and turned cartwheels. I tried to school my thoughts, to be the perfect lady Buckingham wanted us to be.

  “Don't embarrass me now.” She gave me a look that said she knew exactly what was going on in my head.

  “Yes, Mrs. Buckingham.” I bobbed my head, my hand tucked tightly around the ubiquitous notebook I hid behind. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice the wrinkles in my blouse. Last night had been a bad one. Pete left a dirty glass in the sink and Daddy had exploded, breaking half the dishes in the house and chasing after Pete with a belt. It took all my time to clean up the aftermath. I hadn’t had a chance to iron my blouse after it dried.