Jackie had to admit that if Alex had gone straight from their luscious suburban home to New York, then she’d have been distraught, but the truth was that life had already been so tough on her daughter that surely there was nothing left that could faze her.
“Well, your door is all done,” Andy declared, testing the deadbolts to ensure that they worked.
“Thanks.” Alex smiled at him and then looked sadly at her small apartment. It was such a far cry from the bedroom she’d shared with Ashley back in Princeton. She almost wanted to cry at the distance between them. Her old life at college was starting to feel like a mirage, as though it had belonged to someone else and was merely a dream.
“Let’s go out for dinner,” Jackie declared suddenly, watching Alex’s face drop and wanting to cheer her up.
“We’ve still got a few hours before our train, and I saw a small diner on the corner of the block.”
“Okay,” Alex agreed, slinging her Chanel bag over her shoulder, dropping her keys and her alarm inside.
“You’re going to do well here, honey, I just know it,” Jackie confirmed.
“Yeah, it’s like you’re starring in your very own show.” Andy smiled. “Alex’s sex in the shabby city.”
“No sex!” Jackie said mockingly. “Now let’s go eat, I’m starving.”
****
After a twenty-minute subway ride, Alex found herself standing outside the building where Goldstone Financiers were located. Looking up at the immense skyscraper made Alex feel dwarfed beside it. All around her smartly dressed people power-walked to their own place of work. Everyone seemed busy, moving with purpose, with somewhere to go.
Alex stood with her Chanel bag over her shoulder, wearing black trousers, a white shirt and a grey blazer, an outfit which Ashley had helped pick out for her, insisting that it screamed professionalism. Now, Alex wasn’t so sure. She felt sick with nerves at the thought of entering the building, riding the elevator up to the thirty-first floor, and starting her new job.
Taking a deep breath, Alex fell in step with a group of commuters heading into the building. She tried to appear confident and collected even though inside she felt as though she were falling to pieces with nerves.
“Hi, I’m Alexandra Heron.” Alex approached the reception desk nervously. Upon stepping out on the relevant floor, she’d seen the glass doors emblazoned with the company logo, beyond them a solid oak desk, behind which sat an immaculately dressed lady who looked to be in her early thirties. She regarded Alex from behind designer glasses, a hands-free kit already attached to her ear, ready to take the incoming calls during the day.
“It’s my first day,” Alex explained, hoping that the receptionist’s icy demeanor might thaw upon hearing that, but she remained rigid and aloof.
“I’ll tell Mr. Masterson that you’re here,” the receptionist said, referring to the man who had originally hired Alex. Alex thanked her and waited awkwardly in the space between the desk and the front doors.
A dozen or so people entered as she stood there. They offered a courteous but abrupt greeting to the receptionist, who acknowledged them in a similar fashion, but they ignored Alex completely. She felt invisible to them, which made her feel even more uncomfortable and nervous.
“Alex, hi.” Mr. Masterson appeared from the offices deeper inside the building. He was in his late thirties, with dark hair that was becoming flecked with grey, but it suited him, and he was wearing a navy suit and, more importantly, a smile. It was the first friendly face Alex had seen all morning, and it was a welcome sight.
“Good morning, Mr. Masterson.” She smiled politely.
“Call me Jeff,” he said casually. “Shall I show you where you’ll be working?”
“Yes, please.”
Alex followed Jeff into the main office area. There were thirty or so cubicles set out in an open-plan space. Two of the adjoining walls were covered in doors that led to the offices of the senior members of staff, and the far wall had floor-to-ceiling windows, which offered amazing views of both the city and the skyscraper opposite.
No one looked up as Alex walked past, each already too engrossed in their own tasks for the day.
Finally, Jeff stopped at an empty cubicle that was close to an office door that had his name on it in smart, gold lettering.
“This is where you will be.” He gestured to the cubicle. There was a wooden desk and a high-end swivel chair, a Mac computer currently turned off, a cordless phone and a number of empty filing trays.
“Toilets, printing facilities, and kitchen are all at the far end of that corridor.” He pointed back down towards where the receptionist desk was located.
Alex nodded, trying to take it all in.
“I imagine you already have a fair idea of what is expected of you here.” Jeff looked intently at Alex as she nodded. “Basically, I’m in here. I’m your line manager. I will assign you cases to assess.”
The cases that Alex would be assessing were life insurance claims. Alex would be using her mathematical skills to assess what level of insurance they would require or what pay-out was necessary, depending upon the application. She had been told that all relevant training would be provided on the job.
“Okay.” Alex tried to sound enthused even though she was still terrified.
“Any questions, I’ll be right in here.” Jeff gestured towards his office and then disappeared into it, leaving Alex alone.
****
By Friday of her first week Alex had grasped a basic understanding of what was required of her and how the office worked. She’d quickly learnt that she needed to bring a mug and cup to work for drinks, which she purchased Monday evening and brought in Tuesday morning. With each passing day, a few more people introduced themselves to her. They were all a bit older than her, late twenties or early thirties. She’d yet to meet anyone else in the office the same age as her.
The actual work involved was the easy part. Dealing with numbers and statistics came so easily to Alex that she quickly picked up the skills needed for the job and was getting through assignments almost as quickly as Jeff could delegate them to her. It meant that each night she left work on time, never needing to stay late, which earned her a few steely glares as she left the office promptly at half past four.
“So do you like it?” Ashley asked one evening during their Skype chat. Alex was ready for bed, wearing flannel pajamas, as New York was already cooling, heading quickly towards a harsh winter, whereas Los Angeles was still bathed in sunlight. Ashley was phoning from beside her father’s pool, wearing a bright green bikini.
“Yeah, it’s an interesting job,” Alex said, pulling her duvet up over her and settling down.
“Sounds a bit number heavy to me,” Ashley stated. “Are you in bed already?” She scrutinized the image on the iPad in her hands.
“Yeah, it’s nine here,” Alex explained, knowing it was much earlier in the day where Ashley was.
“And you’re going to bed? The night is still so young!” Ashley cried, remembering the nights when they’d only just be leaving their sorority house at nine in the evening to head over to a party somewhere.
“I’ve got work early.” Alex sighed. One thing she’d learnt about Jeff Masterson was that he liked to start and end his days early, and Alex was expected to be at the office when he was. So he enjoyed a bright and early start at Goldstone for 7 a.m., and Alex had to follow suit. Although it did mean she would be back in her apartment by five, the early mornings were starting to take their toll on her.
“How lame.” Ashley frowned. “At least you’re enjoying it, though.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, do you want to watch an episode of Revenge together?”
“Sure.” Alex smiled. The great thing about the iPad was that they could watch things at the same time and still talk together; it was the next best thing to experiencing something side by side. The iPad had really been a lifeline for Alex. Even her mother had attempted to call her on it.
&nbs
p; ****
The following Monday morning Alex arrived at Goldstone just as the sun was rising. Looking every inch the professional, she’d made time to pop in to Starbucks for a latte, desperately needing the injection of caffeine.
At such an early hour, the elevators were always relatively empty. There were a handful of other eager workers starting their day, and the cleaners from the night before were also clearing out at that time. Alex made a concerted effort to say hello to everyone she passed, even though half of them ignored her. She was determined to be friendly even if no one else was.
“Morning, Miss Heron,” Jeff greeted her as she settled down at her cubicle. She’d attempted to personalise it a little by placing a picture of her and Ashley up near her monitor. It was a picture taken back at Princeton, during a rave party where they both had neon paint streaked across their cheeks. The picture always brought a smile to Alex’s face as she remembered what a great night they’d had.
“Is it really morning? It was so dark when I left my apartment that I wasn’t sure,” Alex joked, feeling more comfortable with her manager and able to do so.
Jeff smiled and looked towards the windows, where the sun was now committed to its ascent up over the city. “Would you rather stay in bed and miss that?” he asked, looking out at the impressive sunrise.
“It is beautiful,” Alex admitted.
Jeff placed a stack of papers on her desk, her assignments for the day, and then noticed the picture she’d put up. She looked at it for a moment and then smiled again.
“Your girlfriend looks nice,” he commented.
“Oh.” Alex blushed and became flustered, realising his mistake. “No, that’s Ashley. She’s my best friend. We’re not like… together.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Jeff looked devastated by his mistake. “I just assumed, I mean these days people are free to be with whoever they want,” he said quickly, trying to pull himself out of the hole he’d made.
“It’s okay.” Alex smiled sweetly at him.
“So do you have a boyfriend?” Jeff asked, trying to change tack and continuing to look embarrassed and uncomfortable.
“Not at the moment,” Alex admitted. “What about you?”
“Divorced,” Jeff explained simply, then added, “for the second time.”
“Oh.” Alex looked at him sadly, suddenly seeing the story of his failed marriages etched in the small lines around his eyes.
“I’m married to my job these days,” Jeff said, looking back at the sunrise.
Alex wasn’t sure how to respond, so she switched on her computer and began logging in to the company system.
“This job can suck you in and consume you,” Jeff continued gravely. “But lately, with you helping me, I’ve had more time. Heck, I might even manage to get a life and find the third Mrs. Masterson!”
“Good luck with that.” Alex laughed.
“Now get to work,” Jeff said teasingly, heading into his office.
In the quiet of the early morning, Alex liked to drink her latte and eat the bagel she’d hurriedly prepared at her apartment. It always felt like the calm before the storm. Soon all the other workers would flood in, the phones would start ringing, and the office air would be full of endless chatter and noise. But for now it was quiet, and she liked it like that. Alex worked best when she could tune out the rest of the world and concentrate simply on the task at hand. As such, Jeff permitted her to listen to music while she worked after she explained that it helped. It prevented her from getting distracted and dragged into idle conversations.
And so part of her morning ritual involved getting out her iPad, putting it on charge and selecting the most recent playlist Ashley had sent her, and putting in her headphones. Ashley was always sending Alex music. Her playlists were usually a mixture of songs they’d loved at Princeton and new music she’d heard out in Los Angeles, which she insisted Alex would love. She was usually right.
Whenever she listened to music, Alex would always briefly think of Oscar. He was always so passionate about what music he liked; she had no doubt that he’d have loved to send her a playlist to listen to at work. She’d considered calling him again, to check in on how he was doing, but simply hadn’t had the time. She was always so tired after work. She’d make dinner; call her mom and then Skype with Ashley. Once she even fell asleep mid-conversation with one of them.
The weekend offered some precious spare time, but Alex was still adjusting to city life, stocking up on food and getting her laundry done on those days. But she vowed to call Oscar at some point. He was never far from her thoughts, and she wanted to know how he was doing.
****
As the end of the month approached, Alex’s days at the office grew longer. She found herself working twelve-hour days, entering and leaving the office under the cover of darkness. She wanted to complain, to protest the sudden increase in workload, but no one else seemed to mind. And since everyone else was managing to work more, Alex didn’t want to be singled out as the one who couldn’t hack it. She put her head down, put her headphones in, and tried to get through the stack of work she had.
“It gets intense at the end of each month,” Jeff told her apologetically one evening. It was already quarter past seven, and Alex still had three more assignments to complete before she could leave. She was sadly aware that she’d missed her scheduled call with Ashley for the fifth night in a row.
“It’s certainly busier,” Alex agreed, trying not to sound resentful.
“There’s just more deadlines to meet, that’s all,” Jeff said, leaning against her cubicle, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. “I’m impressed with how you’ve managed,” he complimented her.
“That makes two of us,” Alex replied drolly. “I’m beginning to forget what sleep feels like.”
“It’ll be better next week, I promise.” Jeff laughed. “You should be proud of yourself; most new recruits flake out after their first end of the month.”
“Well, I like it here,” Alex admitted, which she did. She enjoyed the tasks of the job, dealing with numbers and being left to work under her own initiative. It suited her.
“Good, ’cause you’re doing great. Keep this up until your three-month probation ends, and there could be a raise in it for you.”
“That’d be nice.”
“Let you get a decent apartment and get out of that crap hole you’re staying in.”
“Who says I live in a crap hole?” Alex asked, indignant.
“Your zip code,” Jeff explained matter-of-factly. “That’s not a nice neighborhood for a girl on her own to be in.”
“I manage.”
“Still, I’d feel better sleeping at night if you could afford to live somewhere nicer. Sure your dad would too.” With those parting paternal words, Jeff sauntered off back into his own office.
Normally, a comment about her father would push through Alex’s chest like a bullet, ripping out the other side and leaving her inconsolable with pain. But today, it merely pinched, like a bee sting. She shook it off and reminded herself that Jeff didn’t know about her situation or personal history, and why should he? To him, she was just another employee, and it felt good to be judged by the same standard as everyone else, not to be given allowances because of what she’d lost.
But thoughts of her father had now surfaced, and as Alex finally left the office and entered the subway station at eight, she was distracted. With her headphones in, she let her mind drift back to memories of her late father, wondering what he’d make of her now, a Princeton graduate working in New York City?
She imagined that he’d be proud of her. She could picture him telling strangers about his daughter, unable to conceal his pride. He’d have a bumper sticker declaring that his daughter was a Princeton graduate. He would keep tabs on all the college games, updating Alex on them even long after she left the college. She sighed sadly at the potential of what could have been and, stepping off the subway at her stop, did not notice the hooded figure that fol
lowed just a few steps behind.
It was about a ten-minute walk to her apartment building, and Alex usually hurried when it was dark, but today she wasn’t as mindful, walking at a steady yet slow pace, still mulling over how different her life may, or may not, have been had her father survived that fateful day.
The cold metal barrel suddenly pressing against the back of her head made her stop dead in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat. Discreetly she reached into her pocket and silenced her music.
“Give me the bag,” a hostile voice demanded, thick with the guttural Brooklyn accent. Alex’s Chanel bag rested on her shoulder. She was clutching it tightly with one hand, a part of her desperately not wanting to relinquish it. She moved to turn around, but the gun was pressed harder to her head, leaving a mark upon her scalp.
“I don’t want no trouble, just give me the bag,” the assailant explained in his angry, harassed tone.
Alex thought of the moment when Ashley had presented her with the bag. How delighted she’d been by such a generous gift. And now it was being taken away from her by some coward with a gun.
But Alex knew what would happen if he pulled the trigger. She’d seen her father’s life get blasted out of him, his blood pouring out until there was nothing left. She didn’t want to die there on a sidewalk in a bad area of the city. She didn’t want her mother to be awoken late in the night by the devastating news that her daughter had been shot and killed.
All these thoughts played out in Alex’s mind over the course of less than a second.
“Come on, princess, the bag,” the voice demanded once more, and Alex released her grip, letting her beloved Chanel bag fall into his waiting, thieving hands.
“Good girl,” he said so close to her ear that it made her feel sick with repulsion. “Now stand there and count to ten.”
Alex obeyed, and with each increasing number, she heard his footsteps eagerly running further and further away. When she at last reached ten, she turned around and saw that the street behind her was now empty, the thief and her handbag were gone.
Living with Love (Lessons in Love) Page 5