Mybossboss, i.e. the person who employed me, is the Head of Human Resources, Darren Temper. He tends to leave us to it with Nicola at the helm.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Jonathan continues. ‘I know Darren well and asked him last night. He has no problem with it if you don’t.’
The chance to work at a magazine – an actual magazine, with a whole team of people: photographers, picture editors. . .
He’s standing there, waiting for an answer.
‘In that case, I’d love to!’ I beam.Shit, is Mel going to kill me?
As soon as he’s gone, I turn to Nicola and hiss, ‘Do you think Mel will mind?’
‘Will I mind what?’ Mel interrupts, returning with three mugs of tea on a small tray.
‘Good idea.’ I gesture at the tray, then feeling like a meek little lamb, manage to look her in the face. ‘Jonathan asked me to cover for their sick editorial assistant.’
‘You lucky bitch!’ she cries.
‘Do you mind?’
‘Of course not. Get in there. Debbie’s coming back in a few months, you’ve got to make all the contacts you can.’
‘Is Debbie definitely returning?’ My heart sinks a little and Mel looks sympathetic as she nods.
‘It’s pretty much a cert. She can’t afford not to. So you go for it – don’t you think, Nicola?’
‘Absolutely. I totally agree,’ Nicola responds.
‘Okay.’ I smile at them shyly and start to pack up my things.
Jonathan settles me at my temporary desk by the magazine entrance. Thankfully, most of his staff have yet to arrive, so it’s not too mortifying standing there while he explains the bare basics. He tells me he’ll fill me in on other stuff as and when I need to know, but for now I’m to answer calls and emails and help out with anything anyone asks of me.
The rest of the staff who make upMarblesmagazine begin to filter in. Some ignore me, others nod and say hi. Only one girl with a cheerful-looking face asks if I’m filling in for Bronte, shortly afterwards commenting, ‘Hey, aren’t you one of the girls from reception?’
‘Yes,’ I tell her, fully aware of how invisible we receptionists can appear to people, even though they see us every day.
‘I’m Xanthe,’ she says. ‘I work on the health desk.’
‘Oh, cool. Do you get loads of free stuff?’
‘Hell, yeah. It’s why I took the job.Marblesmay be a men’s mag, but PRs still send me girlie beauty products to butter me up. Listen, let me know if you need any help with anything. I started off as work experience and covered for Bronte myself once or twice in the early days, so I pretty much know what the job entails.’
‘Thanks very much.’ I smile up at her. It’s nice to find a friendly face at last.
As the day wears on, I find my feet and start to relax. At one o’clock I knock on Jonathan’s door.
‘I’m popping out to grab some lunch,’ I say. ‘Do you want me to get you anything?’
‘No, thanks.’ He brushes me off. ‘I’ve got to nip out myself to get the missus some flowers. It’s our anniversary tomorrow,’ he reveals.
‘How many years?’ I dare to ask.
‘Eight.’
‘Congratulations. Are you sure you don’t need anything? I mean, I could even get the flowers if you want me to.’
‘She’d kill me if I didn’t get them myself.’ He grins. ‘Anyway, I know what she likes.’ He gets to his feet. ‘I’ll come out with you now.’
I feel a mild sense of panic at the idea of walking down the stairs with him and entering reception together. He grabs his suit jacket and shrugs it on while I wait at the door and follow him out.
