Abby almost apologised for it, even though she could hardly be blamed for the boss’s obsession with precise timekeeping.
One by one they melted away until she was left standing alone.
“Great to see you, Abby,” she muttered under her breath as she tucked the files under her arm and filled a cup with water. “You worked all weekend on the report? You must be exhausted. The company is lucky to have you. Can’t wait to hear your recommendations. Your analysis is always insightful and your solutions inspired.”
In her dreams.
Since when had any of them taken her seriously? Never. Since when had any of them thought she might have something to say that was worth listening to? Also, never. Or maybe it was more that they were jealous of her perceived privileges.
Whatever the cause, it made for a hideously lonely existence at work.
But it was fine. She was used to it.
She paused. In fact, it wasn’t fine at all, and she would never get used to it, but she’d learned to live with it. Fortunately for her she loved the work itself. She enjoyed the varied challenges she faced, and the creativity involved in finding solutions. She had a natural talent for spotting how improvements could be made, how guest service could be improved and profits increased. It was a busy, stimulating job and in the end that was what mattered. She could survive without having friends at work. But she would have liked their respect. Whatever she did, they resented her. They thought she was given preferential treatment, and that there were others moredeserving of the opportunities that came her way. What they didn’t understand was that she’d been shadowing her mother since she was old enough to walk.
Balancing her laptop and the water, she headed to the meeting room where everyone was already gathered.
Abby distributed the reports she’d had printed, settled herself at the table and waited.
Beyond the huge glass windows of the corporate office the sun blazed, light shimmering across Boston Bay. On the streets far below people were out enjoying the glorious summer weather, taking long lunches in outdoor cafés, strolling along the cobbled streets, or heading out onto the water.
She felt a pang of envy. They probably didn’t have indigestion from stress, or a headache from working into the night and then being unable to sleep.
She reminded herself that she was doing something she loved. This was what she’d been working towards since she’d graduated college and even before that.I built this for you, her mother would say as she took ten-year-old Abby through her plans for developing a hotel on the beautiful Oregon coast.For us. No one can take it away.
Abby had felt a responsibility to take seriously what she’d been given. To that end she’d let friendships lapse, she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in as long as she could remember and her last relationship—and it was stretching credulity to describe it as that—had been over a year ago. But she wouldn’t change a thing.Would she?
She jumped as the door opened and the boss strode in.
It was precisely two o’clock.
Abby felt tension grip her muscles. It was true that she occasionally felt intimidated by her colleagues, but it was also true that the person who intimidated her most was her own mother.
Alexandra sat down at the head of the table and raised an eyebrow. “Abby?”
That was it.
No small talk. No pleasantries. Nothing that wasted time. That was her mother.
Her expertly coloured hair framed her face in a precision cut and she was wearing a cream silk shirt with a tailored skirt and high heels. Understated. Elegant. In charge.
And waiting.
Abby released her death grip on her chair and stood up. No matter what people might think, at work their relationship earned her no favours. If anything, her mother was harder on her than anyone else.
She’d woken early and done her usual thirty lengths of the pool in her apartment building, and now she felt exhausted and was starting to wish she’d prioritised sleep over exercise and checking the numbers one more time. She’d wanted to impress her colleagues, but really their opinion didn’t matter. The Alexandra Hotel Group was a privately owned company. In the end there was only one person she needed to impress, and that was the woman seated at the head of the table.
And in a way this felt like a waste of time. She already knew what the outcome of this presentation would be. Her mother wasn’t sentimental. She’d want to sell.
This presentation was almost a formality. For a moment she wondered what it would be like to work in a place where her opinion on something had an impact.Let’s ask Abby...
She flicked to the first slide. “The Alexandra, Cornwall.”
She started with a photograph of the hotel, which might have been a mistake because there were murmurings around the table of how stunning the coastline was and how incredible the views.
Abby’s mind drifted for a moment, imagining herself sitting with a book, enjoying that view. It had been a long time since she’d had a vacation. And yes, there was work pressure, but also she wondered if the appeal of a vacation was less if you were taking it alone. Was dinner for one at a resort in Bali really that different to having dinner alone in her apartment in Boston? The view would be better. And there was always the possibility of meeting someone. Maybe that was why people travelled. For possibilities.
Hearing the impatient tap of her mother’s foot on the floor, she snapped back to the present.
