“Maybe he didn’t know it wouldn’t be back on yet?”
“Whatever, I’m still annoyed to be awake. It’s fine though, I have things I can work on from home today. Anyway, are you free today for lunch? Cause I am in dire need of some Whitney time.”
Furrowing my eyebrows, I try to picture my schedule for the day. I wish I could just grab my planner and see what my day looks like, but driving while talking on the phonewhilesearching through your daily events doesn’t exactly scream safe.
“This is kind of short notice, and today’s kind of rough. Thenew boss is starting today, so I’m not sure, I’ll have to double check my schedule. But I’m driving right now, so I can’t look. I’ll call you back when I get to the office,” I tell her.
Leila groans on the other end. “Please, Whitney? I’ll be going stir-crazy by the time lunch rolls around. I’m not used to being cooped up in the house for that long. Not to mention, I’m already frazzled knowing these parent-teacher conferences are right around the corner.”
I can’t help but laugh. Leila has been amping herself up for these conferences for the last few weeks. She still has a few weeks to go before she has to meet with parents, but she is just as organized as I am sometimes. She is already thinking ahead about what she will say about each of her students—the good onesandthe bad. This is always her least favorite time of the school year.
“Where do you want to meet?” I ask.
She grumbles, “JTs? I’m dying for a chicken Caesar wrap.”
Sighing, I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” She says goodbye and then disconnects the line.
I pull into the parking garage of our building and show the guard my badge. Then, I carefully park in my designated spot. It has my name painted on it and everything.
Reserved for Whitney Palmer.
I get out of my car, grab all my junk, and start my trek across the lobby to the elevators. I work on the eleventh floor, right next to the CEO’s office. Our building used to be a hotel before they completely renovated it. The building had undeniable classic charm when the company bought it—way before I had joined the team—but it was dated and not at all safe for normal business usage. After doing a complete gut-job, the building was now sleek and modern on the inside,but still maintained the historic architecture that it used to have.
I walk into the elevator and click the button for the eleventh floor, where the CEO’s office and my desk space reside. Nexus maintains the top three floors of this building, and rents out all the others to other companies.
“Good morning, Charlotte,” I greet our secretary, who also is stationed on the eleventh floor. She greets me with a cheeky grin.
“Well, hi there, Whitney, you’re here awfully early,” Charlotte speculates. I give her a noncommittal shrug.
“Today’s a big day. I have to have everything ready for Mr. Hurst when he arrives. Have you heard when he’s expected to be here?”
Charlotte flips through her big book of notes that she has sitting front and center on her desk. She is diligent in writing down every little detail, so nothing gets forgotten. She scans her most recent notes and taps her long, painted finger on her chin.
“I got a message that he’ll be in around eight-thirty,” she informs me.
Letting out a sigh I’m not aware I am holding, I smile and thank her before heading to my desk. Mine is, of course, right outside the door of the boss’s enclosed room.
I set down all my stuff and then arrange it the way I prefer. Carefully sitting down in my swivel chair, I boot up my desktop and sync my phone to the calendar so nothing gets lost from any work I finished on my own last night.
I have a bit of time still until Mr. Hurst shows up, so I click on my email and log in, hoping to get to work. As soon as my email is loaded up, I see the little red icon indicating I have a new unread message.
Narrowing my eyes, I click on it, only to see an email from Mr. Hurst’s previous assistant at his old office over in London.As I look closer and scrutinize the words written on the screen, it becomes clear that she created an entire profile on Mr. Hurst for me, including a list of all of his likes and dislikes.
Bless her heart! This will make my life as his new assistant so much easier. I scroll down and commit every little detail to memory as best as I can. Heaven knows how much time she saved me by forwarding this. Now I won’t need to figure out his preferences the hard way—trial and error. I try my hardest not to wince when she notes that he can be disorganized sometimes and that he likes to close himself off when he gets too stressed out.
Being an assistant is not always an easy job. I’ve learned that business moguls can be high maintenance and can switch moods at the drop of a hat. It is always a good thing when you know exactly what they like and don’t like or how they respond when the stakes are high. After working for Mr. Peterson for so long, I had his entire personality down pat. I could tell when we would have a good day versus just an ‘okay’ day, based on the way he would saunter down the hallway to his office.
And on those ‘okay’ days, I took it upon myself to find ways to turn it back into a great day.
But now, I’m starting all over again. Thankfully, this cheat sheet will give me a bit of a head start, but I know I still have a lot of work to do.
My gaze flies to the empty office before me. It’s daunting not knowing who or what your boss is going to be like. But all I can do is show him the best version of myself—make sure he knows that I’m a capable assistant and I’m worth keeping around.
Slowly, the office begins filling up until soft chatter surrounds the whole area. We have a few departments who work up on this top floor with us, including HR. Taking a deep breath, I leave my desk and walk towards our break room to getsome coffee. We have been off work for a few days in respect of Mr. Peterson, so now that everyone is back in the office, there is a bit of catching up to do.
In one of the cabinets, I reach for my personalized mug with the Nexus Realty Group logo on it and pour myself a nice cup of coffee. I haven’t had any caffeine this morning and am already starting to shake from withdrawals and the nerves of meeting my new boss. I also grab a to-go cup for Mr. Hurst when he arrives. I add just the right amount of sugar and cream to it, as my email instructed. Two cups of coffee in hand, I wander back through the office to my desk.
I set down my steaming cup on my coaster and put the to-go cup in Mr. Hurst’s office. Then I go back to my own workspace. I lean back in my chair, reach for my mug, and take a sip, letting the coffee warm me all the way down. I close my eyes and relax for a minute or two, focusing on the aromatic flavors of my hazelnut coffee. I don’t even notice when the office grows eerily quiet.
