“Yes, Ms. Quinn.”
“Close the door and sit down,” I say, nodding to the chair in front of me. Steven sits on the edge with his hands clasped in his lap. “What the hell was that? How did she make the top five? I need competence, Steven.” The tone of my voice is firm and oozing with authority.
“Sorry, Ms. Quinn. I don’t know, she seemed to have all the right qualifications.”
“Except personal assistant, I think you’ll find. Secretary is written on there, so if that’s the case, I may as well pull someone from out there to assist me.” I point at the cubicles outside my office. “Hell, you may as well do the job.” He looks everywhere but at me.
“Well, you can let her know she’s not getting the job,” I tell him with a huff. “You better hope the next one is better.” I dismiss him and he jumps up instantly, not wasting any time getting back to his office.
I lean back in my chair and heave out a sigh of frustration. I close my eyes, massaging my temples in a circular motion to ease some of my stress.
How hard can it be to find a new assistant? It’s difficult for me to believe that no one has fit the bill yet.
I open my eyes and check the time on the Rolex hanging from my wrist. It’s already 6 p.m. With renewed determination, I sit up straight and shuffle through the resumes on my desk to see who’s next on the list.
Margie Mae Campbell.
With a few minutes to spare before she comes in, I walk over to the water cooler in the corner of my office. Once my cup is filled to the top, I down the refreshing liquid before grabbing my shoulder bag and entering my adjoining bathroom.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I brush lightly under my eyes with the tips of my fingers before dipping into my bag and taking out my lipstick and mascara to touch up my makeup. The last thing I need is to look like a disheveled mess when my next applicant comes in. Once I’ve applied the black liquid to my lashes and topped up my bright red lipstick, I turn to look in the full-length mirror on the wall and admire the outfit I picked out this morning. I do love a good power suit to get me through the day. My black fitted skirt suit is paired with a red top and my forever faithful red Christian Louboutins. The black and red is a severe contrast to my blonde hair.
Feeling ready for the final round of interviews, I quickly wash and dry my hands before going back to my desk.
Taking my phone from my purse, I go to check for messages, when a gentle rap sounds on the door. Raising my gaze, I see Steven. “Come in,” I shout, loud and clear.
“Your next appointment is here, Ms. Quinn.”
I drop my phone back into my bag and say, “You can show her in. Thank you, Steven.”
Nodding, he leaves for a second before coming back with the meekest, most simple woman I’ve ever seen walking this earth. She’s wearing black pants, a flat pair of pumps, and a blouse that doesn’t fit her properly. To finish off the ensemble, she’s wearing a black cardigan.
This business is part of a man’s world, and the last thing I need is a woman who won’t be a little combative. Fixing a grin to my face, I wait for Steven to leave us. I push back from my desk and walk around to greet this new applicant. I stand tall on my heels and hold my hand out in front of me.
“Hello, Ms. Campbell, I’m Reagan Quinn. Please take a seat.”
Five
Reagan
She takes timid steps into my office and takes my hand in greeting. She barely makes any eye contact with me. I’d probably put her at five foot three, tiny compared to my five foot ten, thanks to my heels. Once she’s seated, I pull the door open and call out to Steven, “Steven, could I get a cup of coffee and whatever Ms. Campbell would like.” I turn to look over my shoulder. “Ms. Campbell, would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you,” she answers in a quiet voice. “I’ll just have water, thanks.”
Reiterating that to Steven, I shut the door and grab her a cup of water from the cooler. I place it in front of her before going back around my desk and taking my chair. A few moments later, Steven comes back with my coffee. I take a much, needed sip of the strong caffeine and mentally prepare to get started.
Margie smiles widely at me before placing a folder and notepad and pen on the desk. What she lacks in fashion sense she makes up for in competence. Well, that’s a start at least. Our eyes meet and, seeing the expectant look I have on my face, she picks up the folder and hands it to me.
“This contains references and certificates to show I’ve gained extra qualifications. I’ve studied this position really well and I think I know what you need to be successful in this job.” Her sudden spark of confidence interests me and makes me sit up a little taller, waiting to see what comes out of her mouth next.
I take the folder from her and open the cover. Sitting there on top, just like she said, is a list of references. I flip to the next sheet, look over the next one, and the next, until I’ve reached the end. She has certificates in most computer programs, and her references are from previous companies where she’s worked as a personal assistant.
“So, Ms. Campbell. What can you tell me about yourself?”
She shuffles in her seat uncomfortably, but I put that down to nerves. I smile at her, hopefully calming her enough to go on. She puts her hands in her lap and stills for a second before launching into her history.
“Well. I’m an only child. I lost my parents in an airplane crash two years ago. So it’s just me now.”
Now I know why she looked uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” A tight smile tugs at my lips.
“Thank you.” Her expression barely changes and keeps her eyes on me.
“So, if I needed you to work until say, eight p.m., would you be okay with that? This position isn’t quite a nine to five like the others in the office. I’d need you to stay late if we have an evening meeting.”
“I’m fine with that, Ms. Quinn. I understand the rules of the business. I know as your personal assistant I have to be available to you at all hours of the day.”
“If I need something done, I expect it right away, I don’t expect excuses. This is a very important business, and mistakes won’t be tolerated.”
“I understand, Ms. Quinn.” She holds my stare, which is something not many in this office can do.
“So, what do you know about Hicks Life Solutions?”
“I know they do mainly experimental drugs for cancer and other terminal illnesses.”
“I can see you’ve done your homework; I’m impressed.” My cell phone rings from inside my bag, but I ignore it, wanting to know more about the petite woman in front of me. The one who, surprisingly, seems to be winning me over.
“If I were to offer you the job, how soon could you start?”
Her brown eyes widen a little but she once again schools her features. “Right away. I’m actually out of work at the moment anyway. I’ve been doing some agency work, secretarial, so I’m available as soon as I’m needed.”