Amber must have known about the crazy swirling around the Big Apple. She magically appeared, or maybe Alicia summoned her. I got lots of sympathy friend hugs—at least I hope they were sympathy hugs. Of course they were, Amber respects boundaries. Well, she respects some boundaries, just not the work, drink, dance balance stuff. For once I was OK going to a place with like no men and no chance of going home other than with the people I came with.
It was the last night, a Sunday that probable was too much. Partly because I never recovered from the previous two nights, but mostly because it was a ‘school night’. Not that there was much to do at work. My little deal had made it to CNBC and I wondered if a lynch mob would be waiting for me when I showed up on Monday morning—if I showed up.
I left early in the morning trying to ignore my knackered friend on my couch mooning me as I left. I smiled on my way to work not so much at my half-naked couch surfer so much as the anesthetic effect Amber often had when I was hurting. I literally could not remember half of my weekend, and I was secretly thanking her for that.
The doorman asked if I was alright. I hadn’t even noticed the tears on my own cheeks. Rather than lie I just thanked him for his concern. I also went into the lobby washroom to freshen up. It’s weird how many times I’d been in and out of that building and this was the first time I’d ever been in this washroom. As I stood by the mirror to readjust my mascara I wondered what else was there I had missed as I bee-lined from street to elevator, elevator to office. What had I missed in my laser focus?
After my short pit stop I was back on the path. A quiet ride up the elevator and when I got out I saw the For Lease sign in front of the BCC office. OK, there wasn’t one there, but mentally I knew it would only be a matter of time. No one was in the office yet. I wondered what the mood would be like now that people were realizing what was really happening. I was looking forward to a long day of doing nothing in my office—after barricading the door.
Actually, I did have something to do. Something better done earlier than later. At some point between picking her up at JFK and her sleeping naked on my sofa, Amber had asked what I was going to do now. She made it sound like such a positive thing. I love/hate that about her. As I was one of the chosen few to be looking at a golden parachute, I better make sure to be in a position to use it.
I wandered over to Christine’s office. I wasn’t sure what kind of response I was going to get from Jemma. Yes, my work would have her out of a job, but I was more worried about not asking her out on the weekend. She was sitting at her desk with two coffees. Christine didn’t drink out of cardboard cups so I was… She offered me one. My spider sense was not tingling.
We chatted about the weekend, which I was happy to find out her mother had stopped by. She was not so happy to find out Amber was in town and we hadn’t asked her to go out with us. I mentioned her mum and Jemma told me her mummy was very hip and would have loved to check out the NYC nightlife. She would have done it fabulously. We both spat out coffee at her assertion.
I quietly asked if Christine was in today. This got me a raised eyebrow. And why do you wish to see Ms. Banks? My God she transformed into the gatekeeper instantly.
“It’s to do with..business.”
“What business?”
“This one, the one we are working at.”
Jemma leaned in and then in hushed tones said, “I have it on good authority that we soon won’t be working at it.” She briefly paused then broke out laughing.
I think I giggled nervously with her, though I wasn’t sure what was so funny.
“Christine isn’t in today”, my friend saw my disappointment, “but Nico is in. I can get you in first thing if you want.”
“First thing as in…”
“When ever she comes in the door.”
This was a bit of a problem since one of my bosses never arrived at the same time on any given day. “What time do you think she’ll be in today?”
“Well considering she spent the weekend in Monaco with her husband…”
“Not before noon?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Fair enough.” And with that I thanked her for the coffee and made my way back to my office just in time for me to receive a pic from Alicia of Amber sprawled out on the couch. Just when I had gotten that image out of my head.
I then spent my time productively, looking up new jobs, new apartments and wondering if the window washer might help me with a quick escape if they came through my door with torches and pitchforks. What I really needed to do was figure out what I had failed to do earlier, ask my very sympathy boss for a new job. How hard could that be?
Unfortunately I didn’t get much of a chance to ponder that. My door gently opened and Nicole poked her head in. “You wanted to see me?” I’m not sure which was weirder, her just popping up into my door after a weekend in Nice or that she was still wearing sunglasses—big bug-eyed sunglasses. Actually, it was choice number three, her very attractive man-toy Mr. Bidarte was just behind her also poking his head in. My boss and her boyfriend poking their heads in like some high school friends who had stopped by after school.
“Yes…”, I didn’t mean to give a melodramatic pause. “But it can wait ’til later.” I gave a polite smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
“Xavier, bring her to my office.” And then just like that a handsome older Frenchman was escorting me to my hung over boss’ office.
Nico was sitting in her chair with her feet on her table—which I had never seen so bare. I was escorted to the chair in front of her as my escort closed the door and sat in a leather sofa on the side. It was not the ideal situation of which I wanted to beg for my continued employment at a company I had just dissolved.
“Maybe, I should come back later…after you’ve settled in…”
“What ever you need just spit it out.” I’m not sure why, but I had never seen my boss so curt or cold. It was certainly a much more inhospitable situation than I could have ever imagined being in.
“Don’t worry about Xavier, he knows all my secrets. He’ll know what ever you are asking even if he weren’t here.” Nico dropped her feet off her desk and sat up in a more appropriate, business-like position.
I looked over at her partner then back at her. I took a moment then calmly asked about a job at the new company. My mentor smiled and took off her glasses. OMG! I thought my weekend was intoxitastic. The man to my side unbuttoned his jacket and lounged on the expensive sofa.
“I was wondering when you were going to ask about that.” Her mood piqued up.
“I want something, away from New York”, I interjected without even thinking if such a thing existed.
My pretty (drunk) boss was smiling. At the time I wasn’t sure why, but looking back at the glance she shared with her French gigolo on her sofa, she was probably impressed. Why not, it’s isn’t like I had asked for much—anything—since I had worked for her. Now, I was in her office asking for a new job is some glamorous place, not here. I was a boss! No wonder she smiled proudly.
“Did you have anywhere in mind?”, the smile was all over her face.
“How about Paris?” I had no idea if there was even a job there, but I was on fire.
“Sorry. Enrique already scooped up that assignment.” It was hard to say what screeched my string of awesomeness to a halt. Was it that there had been a job in Paris that I had apparently missed out, or was it that Enrique had taken it. In hindsight the silence after that was a bit awkward.
“Alex, I like you, you know that.” Nico’s face was surprisingly maternal—if you could ignore the clear signs of her hangover. “There wasn’t a lot of jobs available. And in spite of being one of the two people other than Christie and I in the know, you are the last person to come asking for a position…” My heart sunk. How could I be the last person? The merger hadn’t even been announced for a week. No transfer to a fabulous city. No job. How did this happen? “…but…”, and my God that was the longest pause I can ever remember, “I saved you a position, hoping you would come ask for something.” OK, what does it say about you when one of your biggest cheerleaders is happy you just showed up. Nico continued, “It’s not in New York…” Things were starting to look up. “You’ve been there before…” I made a mental note off all the places I’d been sans Paris: London, Milan, at worst Miami. “It’s a very pretty city…” Milan or Miami? “And great skiing”, Mr Bidate added, totally confusing me. Strange how my boss’ lover knew where I was going and I still didn’t. So I did the only thing possible, “Where?“
“Vancouver”, she said like it was the most expected thing to be said. I will insert a dramatic pause here in my journal because there was none in her office. “To be quite honest, it’s not a great job. I mean it pays well and comes with a townhouse and a car, but the job itself isn’t—sexy.” This coming from a woman in her 30s who strolled into the office in a cocktail dress, stripper heels and rehab glasses. I don’t think anything I could do would come close to her definition of sexy. Luckily she elucidated what she meant. In a word: logistics.
It was pretty simple, it was a take it or leave it kind of deal. On the pro side was a job paying about the same as I was making now, a free place to stay, a company car, a moving allowance, a bonus for joining the new company—and a place to stay while my significant bonus would vest. On the con side was I’d be moving to a place I’d been to once and that the most knowledge I had of the city was where to buy kinky costumes. I’d be alone in an unknown city—with great skiing.
I of course agreed to it, it was a non-choice. At least I knew how I’d be spending the rest of the week, Googling everything I could about my soon to be new home.
“Oh, and you’ll have an assistant.” See I wouldn’t be alone, except I would. I declined some champagne to celebrate my new position—once I signed the papers. My boss and her boyfriend drank the champagne without me.
I wasn’t really sure what to make of the nascent day. I had walked into my boss’ office and demand a job and a transfer—and got it. It’s just it wasn’t where I had hoped it would be. And Enrique… On the other side of the world, not the other side of the office. I sat in my office and started looking up things about my new home. What do you know, they don’t have Uber—or any ride sharing service, but it’s good to know it’s a nuclear weapons free city. Also, good thing I’m getting a free place since the real estate is NYC expensive, rental vacancy is under 1% and next to all that pricey real estate is one of the poorest neighbourhoods in the developed world. Apparently Xavier was not joking. You can ski in the morning and go surfing in the afternoon. Wait, what’s the average temperature?!? Oh thank God that’s Celsius. What’s 20C?
So engrossed in my obsessive link following I missed Jemma slipping into my office. She grabbed my phone after it vibrated. She read out the text, “What are we doing tonight? Amber” Her face scrunched up having seen the tiny thumbnail of the message showing Amber being a sofa angel. She burst out laughing after clicking and seeing the full picture. Then her face went deathly serious. “Yes, what are we doing tonight?” And with that I shut down my browser and we decided what we were going to do on a school night.
Needless to say, between Amber and Jemma I was unable to remember or am willing to talk about what happened. In fact the night was so ‘good’ that Jemma and I decided to go from the last afterparty directly to work. I let Jemma into the vault of fashion with the promise that she would not go crazy or anything. Jemma wandered around looking at stuff while I looked up something to wear to hide our walk of shame. I grabbed a couple of simple—at least for a room of designer clothes—dresses and pried Jemma, crying, out of the soon to be liquidated attire.
A quick shower and clothes change and no one would be wiser that we were out literally all night. Few people seemed to notice the fabulous attire Jemma and I sported, or that our hair was still wet. Well everyone, but those that mattered.
There was buzz about a final company party. Either these people still didn’t understand their fate or they really just liked parties. Maybe a bit of denial along with the latter. Also, it seemed that it would be a colossal final blow out party. I thought I would have to go back to the black hole of fashion one last time.
I hadn’t seen Enrique all week. In fact his name had only come up once, when my fashion godmother had brought up his name. I wondered if he’d wear to the final company party. Then I panicked a bit wondering if I hadn’t seen him because he had already gone to Paris—without telling me.
A distinct knock on the door told me he hadn’t. It also almost made me spill coffee on my borrowed dress. He asked if he could coming in. The answer was always yes.
He seemed serious, well for an ex-underwear model. He asked if I knew that he would be going to Paris. I lied and said I didn’t. He asked what my prospects were. I thought not good since the guy I wanted to be with would be nine time zones away from me. Again I lied, and told him I wasn’t going anywhere. Then he casual mentioned if nothing turned up maybe I could come to Paris with him.
My heart beat so fast and I didn’t really hear the rest of his justification. I had just accepted a position far away from him and not 24 hours later he was on my sofa asking him to move to the most romantic city in the world with him. I refocussed my eyes and pieced together that he could find me a job with his new position or at worst his connections there.
I said I’d have to think about it, which apparently was not the response he had expected. I know this now because he quietly slunk out of my office leaving me to stew in my circular thoughts of moving to a place I didn’t want to be, but was the right thing to do then tumbling into missing out in moving with Enrique and starting at the bottom all over again. Suddenly, the end of the day could come fast enough. I had brain cells to poison.
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