I get to the studio ridiculously early. The front door isn’t even open yet, so I head back to the Starbucks across the street and order a blueberry bagel.
I sit at the same seat as the other day and munch on my snack. But instead of it making me feel better, it sits heavy in my stomach. I dump the uneaten half in the bin and then notice a security guard unlocking the front door across the way. I jump up and run over before the door closes behind him.
He seems taken aback to see me. “Uh, can I help you?”
“Yes, hi! I’m the new receptionist. I’ll be working with Jules.” I point to the empty counter to illustrate my point.
He narrows his eyes. “I didn’t hear about any new staff starting today.”
“It all only happened yesterday. Do you have a list? Or someone you can call? I promise I’m for real. I’m just a little early.”
He smirks and glances at his watch. “It’s 7am. No one gets here until at least eight.”
“What about all the talk show people?”
“We don’t do any live recordings on Wednesday mornings.”
“Oh.”
He seems to take pity on me. “Hang on, I’ll phone Shelly and see what she says.”
“Thank you.”
He pulls a mobile phone out of his pocket and dials a number.
After a moment, he speaks. “Yeah, hi, Shelly. I have a…” he motions his hand at me with a questioning look.
“Lauren Hunter,” I provide.
“Lauren Hunter here,” he repeats. “Says she’s the new receptionist.”
He’s quiet for a second and then nods. “No problem. Thanks.”
After he hangs up, he shakes his head. “Nobody tells me shit around here. How am I supposed to protect the goddamn studio if no one tells me who’s supposed to actually be allowed in?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling a bit inadequate.
“No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Shelly says you’re fine. Welcome to NBS.”
“Thanks. What was your name?”
“Terry.”
“Hi, Terry. I appreciate you letting me in. I want to make a good impression on my first morning.”
He cracks a smile. “I’m sure you will, sweetheart. Anyway, I gotta go and do the rounds. The front door stays locked until eight-thirty. Anyone who needs to get in will have a swipe card. Don’t let anyone else through. Visitors aren’t allowed until we officially open.”
“Got it.”
“If you need me, just call my mobile.” He produces a card and leaves it on the counter.
“Thanks again!”
He wanders off, muttering to himself. I smile after him. I think we’re going to get along just fine. I’ve met guys like Terry before. All stocky and physically intimidating with a surly attitude, but really sweet on the inside.
I go behind the reception counter and sit down in the seat I commandeered yesterday.
On the desk are two Macs. I haven’t used Apple in a while, but it all quickly comes back to me. I pause when I’m asked for a password, but then try the details scribbled on a post-it stuck behind the counter. Success! (I should probably tell Jules how easily someone can get into the computer system.) I spend a few minutes familiarising myself with the installed programs and reacquainting myself with a Mac. I then click on a link that appears to be the studio intranet, with memos and info on the latest happenings. Another link goes to a directory with the contact details of everyone employed in the building. Holy crap! There’s Reid Martinez’s personal mobile number! I’m tempted to call it, just to see if he answers, but I know that would probably get me fired on my first day. I’d need a pretty good reason to call him at seven in the morning.
It occurs to me that I don’t really know when they start filming MultiDate. I can probably estimate, though. It usually goes to air around the beginning of February, and I’ve read that filming wraps two months beforehand. So, if the show lasts twelve weeks and then you add on another four or so for casting, we’re looking at…ooh! Just over a month from now!
I’ll have to grill Jules when he arrives and find out how it all works.
Speaking of Jules, I wonder what time he’s going to arrive. He told me to get here at eight, but I assume he’ll want to be a few minutes early to help me settle in.
After six months of practice at the phone store, I easily fill the next hour reading everything on the office intranet and greeting everyone who comes through the front door. Some people say a friendly hello in return, while others pretend I’m invisible.
I never understood why a receptionist would be ignored or considered a lesser person. They’re basically the face of the company and are responsible for the smooth transmission of information through a building. It’s an important job! While I don’t see myself doing this forever, I definitely don’t feel like it’s a step down from where I just came. And while it’s obviously not as financially lucrative as real estate, I would argue that it’s just as much, if not more, noble.
At eight-fifteen, someone bangs on the glass door. I look up and see a woman in her forties with long, poker-straight, strawberry blonde hair, and black cats-eye glasses. She’s wearing a body-hugging dress in maroon with a high, sparkling neckline and tall silver heels. If I had to guess who she was, I’d assume she was a wannabe cast member on a modelling show. Or even MultiDate. Having said that, they do tend to go for slightly younger women…
“Let me in!” the woman yells through the glass.
“I’m sorry. I’m new here and I’m not supposed to open the door until eight-thirty,” I call back.
She gives me an incredulous look. “Are you fucking serious?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the security guard told me not to let anyone in until then.”
“Look, I forgot my swipe card, okay? I haven’t been home since yesterday morning and I have a ton of work to do. Where the hell is Jules?”
I hesitate. Either she’s telling the truth, or she just made up a great lie. She does know Jules’s name, but anyone could find that out if they really wanted to.
I hold up a hand. “Please wait a moment. Oh, what’s your name?”
She screeches in indignation. “Oh my fucking God!”
I’ll call Terry and ask him what he thinks. I don’t want to inadvertently let in a serial stalker on my first day.
Terry’s phone rings out. So much for being available if I need him.
I make an executive decision. Which I wouldn’t have to do if Jules was here. Thanks for leaving me in the lurch, dude.
“Ma’am? Could you please come back in fifteen minutes? That’s when the doors officially open.”
Her eyes bug out and she laughs like a hyena. I’m kind of glad I refused her entry. I hope Jules gets here by eight-thirty, otherwise I’m going to have to deal with this unhinged woman on my own.
She throws up her hands and stalks off. “Fine. You want to play it that way? I’ll come back in fifteen fucking minutes!”
I can’t hear what else she’s saying, because she’s too far away.
Where is Jules?
At eight twenty-eight, I try calling Terry again. This time he answers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Terry, it’s Lauren from reception. Do you mind coming downstairs for a minute? I turned a woman away before and I think she might return when the doors open and create a bit of a scene.”
“No problem. I’ll be right there.”
I hang up, feeling a bit better. Terry will protect me.
At eight-thirty on the dot, the woman comes stalking back to the door. I timidly press the button that switches the opener to automatic and run back behind the counter.
The woman’s heels clack loudly on the shiny white foyer tiles as she makes her way over to me.
“What’s your name?” she hisses.
“Lauren,” I say, holding my ground. Having worked for a phone company, I’ve dealt with my fair share of disgruntled customers.
“Well, Lau-ren. Wh
at the fuck do you think you were trying to pull just now?”
“I’m sorry. Terry told me not to let anyone in. He said anyone who was supposed to be in the building before eight-thirty would have a swipe card.”
“I told you, I don’t have my swipe card. I’ve been out all night at a shitty network party, and I haven’t had time to drive all the way back to Manly to change and get my work stuff. And now I only have ten minutes until the head of fucking NBS arrives for a meeting.”
I falter. There’s a tiny chance I might have gotten this wrong.
Terry finally arrives. He looks from me to the woman and back again and bursts into laughter.
“This is the woman you were talking about?” he says when he regains his composure.
I nod.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, Ariel,” he says, turning to the woman. “The newbie took me too literally when I said not to let anyone in until eight-thirty.”
Ariel doesn’t look impressed. “I don’t care. Where the hell were you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be down here this time of day?”
“I was upstairs sorting out the surveillance backups. And I didn’t know that you were going to forget your swipe card today, did I?”
She sniffs. “Make sure you do your job properly in future. You’re supposed to be looking after us, not locking us out.”
“I know, I know. I promise it won’t happen again.” He turns to me. “Lauren, please make an exception for Ariel in future. She can be let in any time of day or night, regardless of whether she has her swipe card.”
“Sure,” I say as professionally as possible. But to be honest, I’m feeling a little freaked out. This woman clearly has some sort of important role in the company if she’s about to meet with the head of the network. Am I going to be fired already?
Ariel turns to me. “I’m watching you,” she growls, and then stalks off upstairs.
When she’s out of earshot, Terry winks at me. “Don’t worry about her. She can take a bit of getting used to.”
“Who is she?” I ask.
Terry is about to answer when Jules comes tearing through the front door. He’s breathing heavily, but has somehow managed to keep himself sweat-free.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he pants. My cat was throwing up all morning and I had to take her to the vet. I think she’s going to be okay, but I might have to duck out later if they call.”
Terry motions to me. “Lauren was holding down the fort for you. She’s been doing a great job keeping out the undesirables.” He laughs at his own joke and wanders off.
Jules takes a seat beside me and tilts his head in Terry’s direction. “What was that all about?”
“Oh, nothing. I just wouldn’t let Ariel in the building this morning.”
I’m hoping Jules either shrugs his shoulders in a whatever fashion or says “Ariel who?”—but instead, his eyes widen. “You wouldn’t let Ariel in?”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Well, it’s not ideal. Especially on your first day.”
“But she didn’t have her swipe card and Terry said not to let in anyone without a swipe card. And she was wearing a party dress! She didn’t look like she worked here.”
He shakes his head. “Was she pissed?”
“A little,” I admit.
“You know who she is now, right?”
“No.”
“She’s the executive producer on MultiDate.”
A wave of dismay washes over me. “Of course she is.”
“She’s one of the most important producers we have in the studio.”
He’s about to say something else when the phone rings. He answers.
After a second, he says, “I’m on it.”
He hangs up and looks at me. “This is your chance to make things right. Ariel has a meeting with the studio head in about ten minutes. I need you to go get coffees and pastries from Starbucks. Now, off you go. You can take everything to Ariel. Suck up a little. She doesn’t have direct authority to let you go, but the studio head can. And while I’m pretty sure Ariel has more important things to discuss than you this morning, you never know if she’s going to hold a grudge.”
I practically sprint across the road and stand in line. Unfortunately, it’s peak hour in the café and there are eight people ahead of me. I mentally prepare what I’m going to order in my head. Shit. Jules didn’t say what kind of coffee Ariel and the studio guy like. What if I get it wrong?
Five minutes later, I reach the head of the queue. I figure I’ll play it safe.
“I’ll have a skinny flat white, a long black, a full fat mocha, a soy chai latte and a peppermint tea,” I say. “Whatever the regular size is for each of them. And also some banana bread, a brownie, and an eggs benedict panini.”
That should cover all my bases.
“What name?”
“Lauren.”
I hand over my debit card. I’m happy to pay a small fortune out of my own money to ensure I don’t lose my job on the first day.
The order is ready a couple of minutes after Ariel said the studio guy was arriving. I balance all the drinks on a cardboard holder and the bag full of food as I scramble back to the office.
“They’ll be in the boardroom on the third floor,” Jules instructs, pointing to the elevator.
“Got it.”
I hurry over and press my elbow to the up arrow. Once on the third floor, I take a deep breath and head for the boardroom. I stand in the doorway for a second. Ariel is sitting near the head of the table on her own, flicking through a printout.
“I have some food and drinks,” I say softly.
She glances up for a split second and then back down. “Just leave them in the middle of the table.”
I find a platter in a cupboard in the corner of the room so I can present the food nicely. As I unload the drinks, I find myself babbling.
“I wasn’t sure what you would like to drink, so I bought a bunch of different ones.”
She fixes me with a stare. “I’m lactose intolerant.”
“Oh, me too. So I bought a soy chai latte, a long black and a peppermint tea just in case,” I offer.
“I’ll have the chai,” she says begrudgingly.
I slide it over. “I also have a mocha and a skinny flat white.”
“Pat won’t like either of those. Leave him the long black.”
“Sure. And about before, I’m so sorry…”
She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “Forget it. Just go. I’m busy.”
I carry the four leftover drinks back out and downstairs.
“You want one of these?” I ask Jules.
He inspects each one and grabs the mocha. “Ah. Perfect. You’re definitely scoring points with me, hon.”
“At least I made a good impression on someone this morning,” I say moodily. I pick up the peppermint tea and sip it.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure it will all be fine with Ariel. It was just a misunderstanding. And it’s partially my fault for not being here. Let’s just move on, shall we?”
“I’m happy to.”
“Excellent.”
The front door slides open and I glance up. I know those eyes. Greeny-blue with gold flecks. Not that I can see that much detail from here, but I remember from when I served him last week.
He looks at me with the same level of surprise I’m probably giving him.
“Patrick?” I ask.
Jules blinks and stares at me. I guess it would be kind of strange that I know someone in Sydney when I don’t even officially live here yet.
He smiles warmly. “Lauren, was it?”
Jules looks even more shocked that he knows my name.
“Yes! You have a good memory.”
“You do too, considering you must have dozens of customers each day. At your old job, I’m assuming. You’re with us now?”
The way he says us makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
“I am. I started today. I’ll be working with Jules.”
“Well, welcome to the team, Lauren. I’m sure you’ll be a great addition. I was very impressed with your service last week. In fact, I told the people I met with in Brisbane to go see you if they needed a good telecommunications expert—but obviously they won’t be able to now.”
“Sorry. I’m sure Cam will help them if they go in.”
“Is Cam the one you were working with last week? If so, I think I’ll decline the recommendation. He struck me as being a little insincere.”
“I think he’s just very…driven,” I say diplomatically.
This whole time, Jules is gaping like a fish out of water.
Patrick smiles at my comment and then looks at his watch. “Oops. Better not keep the queen waiting.”
He heads off to the elevator.
When he’s out of sight, Jules squeezes my arm so tightly I squeak.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. How do you know Patrick James?” he breathes.
“I served him in Brisbane last week. I helped him get out of an expensive contract for a phone he didn’t like.”
Jules cackles with laughter. “Well, you may not have made a good first impression with Ariel, but you certainly did with Patrick. And that’s way more important.”
My stomach drops. “Is Patrick…”
Jules grins manically. “Yep. Patrick James owns NBS Studios.”
NINE
I can’t believe I served Patrick James in Brisbane last week and I didn’t even know who he was! The contract I was getting him out of was a personal one, so I never had any reason to look at his listed employment. I mean, he was wearing an Armani suit, so I knew he must have a decent job, but nothing like this!
This just made my first day a whole lot better. I suspected there was something different about that man when I met him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. During my time in retail (and also real estate), I’ve found there are two types of powerful people: those who have an over-inflated sense of self-importance and think they’re way better than they really are, and those like Patrick, the quiet ones who don’t need to prove anything to anyone.
I would give anything to be in that meeting with him and Ariel right now. I hope she meant what she said when she told me to forget it after I apologised for not letting her through the door earlier.
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