“We don’t use IDs, but you’ll learn everyone eventually. There aren’t many of us.” Finn shuffles more of his papers and places one on the table in front of me. “Sign here.”
I sign my name for the sixtieth time today and he takes the paper back. Finn came back this morning and took me on a tour of the first floor offices. There aren’t cubical walls. Instead, the desks are staged in a sort of circle. Actually I’m not sure there's any kind of reason to the layout. I envision on move-in day everyone picked a random spot in the room they liked and set up shop. We met each of the guys and even a few girls and so far they all seem nice and happy to have a new receptionist. I hope I can live up to the hype Finn’s given everyone here.
While I completed the first batch of paperwork, Finn taught me the phone system and rules for running the desk… there aren’t any. He promised if I used common sense on the job I’d be fine, but I worry. If it’s that easy, why couldn’t keep someone in this position?
The largest part of my new job appears to be ordering the employees’ lunches by ten on a daily basis. There are cards they drop off with what they’d like for the day and then I call it in. Snacks are dropped off each morning on a rotating basis between doughnuts and bagels and I have to set them up on a table in the office area. It doesn’t seem hard. I don’t see how I can screw it up.
“All right, we’re done. I’ll give Trey all your papers and leave you here. Remember, if you need anything Trey’s number one and I’m two on the phone. Call one of us and we’ll help out.” Finn taps the stack of employment forms I signed on the desktop and wanders to the back without another glance.
The door latches behind him and the sudden quiet is too loud in the cavernous space. At least my desk chair is comfortable. I pull myself to the desk and open the email client to see my empty inbox.
Five minutes later when the front doors open, I almost clap my hands in anticipation. The thought of having a conversation with another human, regardless of how brief, is the most excitement I’ve had all morning. That is until I recognize the other human.
Mari, with bright red heels, a black business suit, and matching purse struts into the lobby and heads to the office doors. For a second I’m torn. Her confident walk says she’s done this a thousand times and I shouldn’t question it, but it goes against what Finn said earlier about calling back first. Plus, I hate her a small bit for wanting to marry Trey for convenience. He’s not mine, but he’s worth more than a marriage for looks.
I decide it’s best to follow procedure on this one, and if she is allowed to tromp through the halls, I’ll blame it on first day jitters and ignorance. “Can I help you?"
My words stall her in line with my desk about halfway to the door. The hard gaze on her face as she stops warns of what’s to come for someone who stands in her way. “I’m here to take my Trey to lunch.”
She acts like she doesn’t recognize me, and maybe she doesn’t. We’ve met before but never had an official introduction. It reminds me that in this scenario I'm the other woman, and I experience a moment of anger at myself. Stupid Trey and his stupid lies.
“I’ll buzz him and let him know you’ve arrived.” I try my best to sound innocent and naive, but when she doesn’t look away or soften her face I panic. “Would you like an apple?” I ask as I wave my hand over the now unwrapped fruit basket on the top of my desk.
She steps closer. “Is it organic?”
My eyes widen at her unexpected question and I gape at the apple in question. “Um… well, it comes from a tree.”
She scoffs at my answer and steps away from the basket, perhaps worried the apple might reach out and grab her with its GMO arms. She takes a seat in one of the black lobby chairs along the side wall and slides a phone from her purse.
“Well, will you buzz him or should I call him myself?”
I grab the phone receiver and hold it up to indicate I’m calling, and she puts her phone down but glares at me in a “hurry it up” fashion. Is it organic? What kind of person asks about organic apples? She couldn’t politely refuse like any other sane person on the planet?
Trey answers on the first ring. “Is everything okay? Do you need help?”
“No, but Mari is here to see you.” I notice my slip of tongue by using her first name when her bright blue eyes flare. Shit.
“What?” He sighs over the line. “Fine, send her back.”
It isn’t until she’s already through the door that I register her words. She said she was taking her Trey out to lunch.HerTrey. What was all his talk at Bonnie's?
The front doors open again and I’m thankful this time they help put an end my little freak out. Two younger guys in white jackets and black pants come in carrying three large plastic sacks each. The smell of fresh pasta and sauce with garlic trails behind them. The bags are set on the desk and the taller of the two passes me a long receipt.
“You’re new,” he states the obvious. “Have fun with this." The second person chuckles and quickly turns around to hide it.
They’re headed to the door before I get the chance to question his words. “See you next week, New Girl,” the taller one waves as he walks out the behind the other. "If you make it that long.”
“Ah, lunch.” My head spins to the side as Finn walks to my desk. “I’ll help you pass it all out.” He takes three bags from the counter and I follow him to the door.
