Not wanting her to keep staring down at me—it was giving me predator/prey vibes—and also because we were probably going to leave, I got to my feet. “Of course.”
She came around the desk and perused me from head to toe. I was in the same outfit I’d worn to yesterday’s interview—plain but professional. The only difference was that Amy lent me a pair of her black designer heels for good luck. They were way too high with a one-inch platform at the front and stiletto heel, but she wanted me to feel empowered on my first day, considering that walking into a new workplace was never easy. To be honest, these shoes made it hard for me to do actual walking—I’dwobbledinto my new workplace—but I felt sexier, at least when I was sitting.My Docs or even ugly court shoes would’ve been way more comfortable and user-friendly. I had my runners in my bag for the afternoon commute.
Victoria’s gaze snagged on said shoes. Her eyes shone with surprise and maybe disbelief, but she said nothing. I was clearly too lowbrow to be wearing shoes this expensive. Maybe I’d just ruined this brand of shoe for her. Did that make me an influencer? I held in a misplaced snicker. Finally, her eyes met mine. “Let’s go.”
Tote over my shoulder and contracts clutched protectively to my chest, I followed her into the open-plan office, which was starting to fill with workers. Who would become friend, and who would become foe? Hopefully there wouldn’t be anyone who gave me a hard time, but let’s be real—a certain percentage of the population were narcissists and psychopaths who lived to make others’ lives hell. I’d just need to figure out who they were and avoid them. If you couldn’t kill them, ignore them.
She pointed to an empty desk, the closest to her office. It faced away from the glass that separated her from the unwashed masses, so I would never know when she was watching. The desk abutted another desk. They faced each other, both desks having some privacy with two extra-large computer screens on each, the latest and greatest systems money could buy, if the symbol on the screen backs was any indication. It was a dream set-up. Much better than Squeaky Butt’s company. “That’s yours. You can put your things there for now.”
A kernel of excitement vibrated in my stomach. Maybe this was where I was meant to end up? If it was even half as good as I expected, it would be awesome, and there was no way I was going to do anything to mess it up. Being cheated on and fired might have been the best thing to ever happen to me. Who knew? Well, hopefully no one here because that could lose me another job. Stephanie would know that I’d lied about my whereabouts the lasttwo years. Also, a relationship with the boss didn’t look good either—a mistake I wouldn’t repeat.
Victoria hurried along the row of workstations, her gait familiar. Lots of supermodels had that walk, smooth, flowing, and guaranteed to have everyone staring. It was the walk that said, “look at me; I’m confident, and I know everyone wants to be me.” I threw my things on my desk, then did my best not to trip as I tried to catch up to her. If I didn’t know Amy loved me, I would’ve thought she was trying to kill me with these shoes.
Victoria stopped abruptly and waved a hand at the collection of desks closest to her office to halfway toward the windows. Being practically on my toes, my feet were surprised when I halted without warning. I almost overbalanced as my upper body pushed forward, and my legs stayed put. Was this payback because I’d ruined the desirability of this brand of shoes for her? “You lot are thenuts… and bolts of the marketing department—copywriters and graphic designers.” Had I imagined that dig, or was I being paranoid? “Destiny Jackson oversees this section and has the final say over what’s submitted to me. I sign off on the aesthetics and messaging for every campaign. Once I’ve done that, I trust you’ll organize things yourself. Destiny reports directly to me.”
A curvy woman in her early thirties approached us. A few bold streaks of vibrant blue striped through her curly, black, chest-length hair. She was wearing purple Docs and red jeans. I couldn’t help but smile. Looked like I could ditch these sexy trip hazards tomorrow.Yay! The woman placed her handbag on the desk closest to Victoria. “Morning, Miss Worthington.” Rather than smile at Victoria, she gave a nod. Victoria did the same.Ooh, so friendly.Not.
Victoria glanced at her watch, then back at the woman. “Goodmorning, Destiny.” Eyes still pinned on the target of her passive-aggressiveness, Victoria gestured my way. “This is Faith Emery, the newest member of your team. It’s her first day. Show her around.”Victoria finally looked at me. “Do a good job, and we’ll have no problems. I have a meeting to get to, but I’ll check in with you at the end of the day when you bring me those signed contracts.” Her attempted smile was more a bearing of perfect, too-white teeth. I squinted against the harshness of it until she turned and left. Looked like I was back swimming with the sharks.
I held my hand out to Destiny and smiled. “Lovely to meet you. I’m here to do whatever you want, and I’m keen to get started.”
Her smile was warm and honest. “Lovely to meet you too. I’ll show you the break room, the two meeting rooms on this floor, and then I’ll introduce you around. Everyone should be in by then.”
“Sounds great. Also, I love your shoes.”
She pointed the front of her shoe into the floor like a ballerina and swished her heel this way and that. “Thank you. I have ten pairs, all different colors and patterns.” She eyed my shoes. “They’re nice. But how do you walk in them?”
I laughed. “They’re not mine, actually. A friend let me borrow them for my first day. It’s a relief to know I can wear my Docs here, though. I just wasn’t sure how everyone dressed.”
“We’re the creatives, so we have a bit more leeway than the other departments. Take advantage of it. Also, it irritates Queen Victoria.” She winked. “Come on. Let’s get going. We’ve got a lot of work on, so I’m really happy you’re here. The sooner we can get started, the better.”
We walked past the halfway mark of desks in our section into the next. “This is the strategic department. They fall under our umbrella, but they deal with budget modelling, campaign spending, and results data. They update us weekly on what’s working and what’s not. They also liaise with clients and make sure the successful campaigns get more budget, etcetera. We just need to worry about making assets that convert.”
“Sounds good to me.”
As we wandered, we chatted, and she asked about my previous experience. I gave her the same information I’d given Stephanie. The break room was a large space. Woodgrain cupboards with white marble tops lined two walls. There were two microwaves, an oven, two sinks, two coffee makers, and two stainless-steel fridges. Twelve cushioned dining chairs surrounded a long table in the center of the room. “You can put your own food in either of the fridges—just make sure to label it. And we get free pastries or donuts every day about eleven. If you’re late, you’ll miss out.” She grinned.
I nodded at the crucial information. If I remembered anything else from today, it would be that.
As we headed back to our desks, she introduced me to a few people and then showed me how to log into my computer. We went through some things, and then she gave me a couple of copywriting tasks. Two hours later, engrossed in my work, I noticed a shadow in my peripheral. I jumped. “Oh, Destiny.” I chuckled. “Sorry, I was dialed in.”
She smiled. “I noticed.” She waved a strawberry glazed donut and cup of coffee in the air. “You better hurry. It’s almost eleven thirty. There isn’t much left.”
“Ooh, thanks for the reminder.”
“NP.”
She went to her desk, and I got up and awkwardly hurried to the break room. These freakin’ shoes were a disaster waiting to happen. I considered removing them and barefooting it but quickly nixed that idea. It would be like me to last a third of a day at a new job. Thankfully, I made it to the donuts without a major incident.
One of the guys from the strategic section stood in front of the pastry box, talking to a gorgeous specimen of dark-haired man. I was almost six foot with these heels on, and the stranger had at least a couple of inches on me. His tight black T-shirt stretchedover a well-formed chest. A wide, bright-pink smear shimmered diagonally across the fabric from one pec to his waist, as if someone was painting a house and decided to have some fun. The woven-thread olive-green jacket over the top gave it a boho finish. Faded jeans completed the look. His face was familiar. That’s who he looked like! Was this Curtis Knight’s brother, the top fashion designer?
The olive-skinned guy from strategy, who looked to be a little younger than me, smiled. Bad me couldn’t remember his name. When I was introduced to people, their name usually floated away within seconds unless I made special effort to remember it. The number of people I’d met today ensured I wouldn’t remember most of their names. “Faith, isn’t it? You just made it. There are a couple left.” He held out the box to me.
“Thank you.” Phew that there was a chocolate-glazed with colorful sprinkles one left. Nothing beat chocolate. I took it and was about to grab a clean napkin from the pile near the sink when probably-Curtis’s-brother smiled at me.
“Hi, Faith. I’m Jack. Are you new here?”
“I started today.” Why was he talking to me? I was a nobody in borrowed heels. Also, why did the off-limit men have to be more tempting than the donut in my hand? I resisted the urge to fan myself with said donut.
