Chapter Thirteen “Places, Everyone!”
Chapter Thirteen
“Places, Everyone!”
Pensacola, Florida
The Arrivals
Administration Office
Izzie pulled in front of the security gate. “Good morning. I have an appointment with Edith Clayton,” she said, handing her phony driver’s license to the security guard. He studied it briefly and then picked up the phone and punched in a number.
“An Isabel Flanders is here to see you.” The man nodded, then handed Izzie’s fake license back to her. “You can park in the visitor spot by the main entrance.”
“Thanks!” Izzie smiled and drove down the long, beautifully landscaped road.
“Wow. Yoko is going to have a field day here.” She pulled into the parking space and walked into the opulent lobby.
A stunning cascading waterwall was the focal point.
Her architectural skills were immediately impressed.
A long, polished marble counter was to her left, some plush lounge chairs to her right.
She walked over to a young woman behind the counter.
“Good morning. I am here to see Edith Clayton. I’m Izzie Flanders.”
“Hello, Ms. Flanders. I’ll let her know you’re here.” The pleasant woman picked up the desk phone and announced Izzie’s arrival. “She will be right with you.”
A few minutes later, a stern-looking woman emerged from a door to the side of the counter. “Ms. Flanders?”
Izzie smiled her best smile. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, but Mrs. Clayton already had her back turned.
“Follow me,” she said in a gruff voice.
Izzie couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the woman behind the counter, who stifled a giggle.
Clayton ushered Izzie into an office about the size of a walk-in closet. “This is where you’ll sit.”
Izzie looked around the windowless, austere, sterile room. “Thank you.” Izzie wasn’t sure if she was supposed to sit or continue to stand. Clayton gave her the nod.
“The system is password-protected. You will only have access to files pertaining to food and beverages. You are to process all invoices and properly charge the residents. Each of them sign for their meals and then pay at the end of each month.”
Izzie nodded. “How many residents are there?”
“As of today, we have three hundred fifty-seven. We have three restaurants, including a café. Each resident has a key card that is read after they finish their meal. We tally everything here each day, and then send them a bill at the end of the month.”
“What about tips?”
“They will show up on the itemized bill. One of your responsibilities will be to separate them and then allocate the money to the waitstaff.”
Izzie nodded. It seemed rather easy, but she wasn’t going to mention it. With the number of architectural projects Izzie worked on at any given time, she was more than capable of maintaining a few spreadsheets.
“I see you have been living in Pennsylvania. What brings you to Florida?” Clayton was beginning to act like a human.
“My parents recently moved to Dresden, and I was tired of the winters.”
“Huh. Another snowbird.” Clayton was back to being a battle-axe. “I don’t recall asking upper management for a new hire, but they are planning on breaking ground for a new development in New Mexico. I am sure we will be overseeing the construction accounts. I should know more in a few months.”
Izzie was certain Clayton was not thrilled with the new employee, nor was she thrilled at the prospect of taking on additional work. Izzie guessed Clayton wouldn’t be thrilled by much of anything.
“Okay, so shall I get started?” Izzie asked.
“Yes. Once you log in, you will find the folders for each restaurant. I suggest you familiarize yourself with the records. I’ll be back in an hour to answer your questions.” Clayton didn’t wait for a response.
Izzie let out a whoosh of air. First things first. She looked around the room for cameras. Sure enough, there was one right above her desk. Big Brother was watching. This was going to be tricky, but she was confident Charles and Fergus would figure out a way to circumvent its prying eyes.
Turning to the computer, Izzie noticed she was in “Read Only” mode, which meant she could only view what was in the file.
Crabby Clayton hadn’t given her a password yet.
Izzie combed through the restaurant folders.
Each had a spreadsheet with time and date stamps.
The first column was the date, then time, then resident’s name, and then the charges.
A drop-down menu listed exactly what each person ate and drank. It was getting creepier by the minute.
A half hour later, Izzie had the program down pat but couldn’t begin to log anything until Ms. Cranky Pants returned. She stood and stretched when there was a soft knock on her door. Izzie got up and answered it.
An attractive woman was smiling at her. Izzie guessed the woman was in her early twenties. “Hi!”
“Hi. I’m Regina. Welcome to Sunnydale.”
“I’m Izzie.” She stepped aside to allow Regina to enter her tight quarters.
Regina made a subtle eye movement toward the camera. Izzie tilted her head in acknowledgment. “We get an hour break for lunch. I usually eat in one of the restaurants. The food is delicious. We have a per diem of twenty-five dollars a day.”
“Mrs. Clayton hasn’t gone over any details with me yet.”
“Oh, okay. Well, let’s have lunch today, unless you have other plans,” Regina offered.
“That would be nice. Thanks. I’d appreciate you showing me around.”
“No prob. See you at twelve-thirty.”
At that point, Mrs. Clayton reappeared. “I see you are already influencing the new person?”
Neither Izzie nor Regina was sure if she was being sarcastic. Izzie’s money was on sarcasm.
“Oh, Mrs. Clayton. I just wanted to make Izzie feel comfortable. Being new and all.”
“Fine. Now, don’t you have something to do?” Edith barked at her.
“Yes, ma’am.” She backed out of the way and moved to her own sterile box across the hall.
Clayton went into a soliloquy. “I expect total professionalism. Everyone must be here at eight on the dot. Lunch is one hour, no more. If you need personal time, then you will either take a personal day, provided you’ve earned it, or you will be docked for every hour you are not on site.
” She paused. “Am I making myself clear?”
“Oh, yes,” Izzie said calmly. What she wanted to say was “abundantly,” but that would have gotten her fired during her first hour on the job.
“You have a per diem of twenty-five dollars a day for meals. You will use your I.D. key card at the restaurants. If you do not utilize the per diem, you will not get the cash. Therefore, if you want to leave the premises during your lunch hour, the cost will be your own responsibility. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Cars are to be parked in the rear lot, which is where you will enter and exit from. No more using the lobby as your main access unless you are walking to one of the restaurants, or unless I instruct you otherwise.”
Clayton continued, “We work until four-thirty Monday through Friday. You will get a one-week vacation, and one personal day after six months on the job. After one year, you will be eligible for two weeks’ vacation and two personal days.”
Izzie was nodding. She prayed she would only be there for less than a week.
Otherwise, she may want to strangle this miserable woman.
Izzie had little patience for women who gave women a bad name.
This one fit the bill. She stifled a laugh, thinking that Clayton was Florida’s version of Nurse Ratched.
Another woman giving women a bad name. And why do they always take it out on each other?
Shouldn’t they direct their wrath, disappointment, and annoyances to the source?
We may have come a long way, but not far enough.
And if some men had their way, we’d get pushed back into the Dark Ages.
Izzie continued to smile in spite of how irritating this woman was.
It had little to do with how she spoke to Izzie.
It was more of her general aura: unpleasant.
Clayton handed Izzie a flash drive. “It is your authorization key. You insert it into the drive, and then you will have access to the appropriate files. It is designated for this unique computer. It will not work on any others in the offices. Do you have any questions?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Fine. Then you can start on last night’s dinner expenses.” Clayton shut the door behind her as she walked out.
Izzie didn’t dare take her phone out of her bag.
She didn’t know the range of the big red eye above her head.
That was going to be the first thing Charles and Fergus were going to have to figure out.
She would never be able to hack into the system if there was someone watching over her shoulder.
She resigned herself to getting the mundane work done until she could get past the CCTV.
Before she knew it, there was another knock on her door. It was Regina.
“Ready?”
Izzie checked the time. “Wow. It’s twelve-thirty already?”
“Time flies when you’re having fun.” Regina chuckled. “Come on. We have two choices for lunch. The Grill or Italian.”
“Let’s do The Grill today. I’m in the mood for a burger.”
The two women exited in the rear of the building, then followed the sidewalk to the large courtyard, where the restaurants faced outward.
Regina explained, “This is so the residents don’t have to go through the main lobby.
” She nodded to an area surrounded by lush vegetation.
“That’s where the residents park their carts. ”
“Interesting place,” Izzie noted.
There were narrow main roads that weaved around the duplex buildings, and there were also cart pathways and crossing areas.
“Yes, it is. I mean it’s okay for me for now. The pay and bonuses are great, and you can’t beat the food.”