2. Daniel
2
Daniel
No doubt about it, she's hands down the worst-dressed Assistant I've ever had in all my years as a CEO. If she can't even dress the part, how is she supposed to get anything done around here?
The quiet hum of the air conditioning interrupts my thoughts, echoing through the silence of my office. I tap the fountain pen in my hand against my desk, staring blankly at my screen. My jam-packed schedule for the day mockingly glares back at me.
When am I supposed to eat? Use the bathroom?
“Ugh.” I sigh and sink deeper into the seat.
The Nexus meeting is scheduled for 11:00 AM, and of course, I didn’t get any reminders or prep materials. Why? Because I still don’t have a capable Assistant. Dianne Parker, my previous Assistant, left me in a whirlwind of chaos, without so much as a formal resignation. She just stopped showing up. So many projects were left unfinished, documents not saved, emails unanswered.
The Nexus Global Convention is an annual conference that attracts the world's biggest tech enthusiasts and entrepreneurs from every corner of the globe. Unlike other conventions, Nexus chooses only one company to handle all media-related activities throughout the event. Our original bid has already been accepted, positioning us on the brink of a monumental breakthrough for the company. Now, the final hurdle is to secure their acceptance of our contract terms and to impress them with a flawless execution plan. This could be the game changer I've been striving for, propelling us to new heights in the industry.
I glance at the picture frame on my desk – a framed photograph of Michelle, grinning toothlessly in a green sundress, clutching a bucket and shovel at the beach. Sitting next to her is a woman who looks exactly like her, but much older.
Her beautiful mother.
I pick it up and gently touch the image of Maddie’s smiling face.
“Oh, how things have changed,” I mutter under my breath.
Closing my eyes, I think back to that day.
***
The sun was beginning to dip low over the horizon as our little family strolled along the sandy shore. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air, and the salty breeze tousled Michelle's golden locks as she skipped ahead, collecting seashells in her tiny hands.
"Look, Daddy! I found a really big one!" Michelle exclaimed, holding up a particularly large shell for inspection.
Maddie smiled at our daughter's excitement; her hand intertwined with mine as we walked along the water's edge. “That's a beauty, Michelle! Let's keep it for our collection at home.”
As we continued our leisurely stroll, Michelle suddenly stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening with wonder as she spotted something in the distance. "Daddy, Mommy, look! It's a sandcastle!"
Maddie and I exchanged amused glances before following Michelle to the sandcastle. As we approached, we saw a young boy meticulously adding the finishing touches to his creation, his face beaming with pride.
"That's amazing, buddy!" I exclaimed, kneeling down beside him. "You've done a great job!"
The boy looked up at me, a shy smile spreading across his face. "Thanks, Sir! I've been working on it all day!"
Maddie joined us, her eyes twinkling with admiration. "You're quite the little architect, aren't you?" she remarked, ruffling the boy's sandy hair affectionately. “What’s your name?”
“Brandon. Want to help me build a castle? My parents are over there, but they’re too busy.”
With Michelle eagerly lending a hand, we spent the next hour helping the boy add turrets and moats to his sandcastle, laughing and joking as we worked together. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach, we stepped back to admire our handiwork.
"It's perfect!" Michelle declared proudly, gazing at the towering sandcastle with wide-eyed wonder.
Maddie wrapped her arms around me, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek as we watched the waves lapping at the shore. "This is what it's all about, baby," she whispered, her voice filled with love. "Moments like these, with the people we love most in the world."
I nodded, squeezing her hand tightly. "You're right," I replied, smiling down at our daughter.
“Daddy, will you take a picture of Mommy and me by the castle?”
Pulling out my phone, I say, “Sure, honey. Say cheese…”
***
It’s the last time we went to the beach as a family. Less than a year after that picture was taken, Maddie passed away.
Michelle has since become a shadow of herself. The once cheerful six-year-old has grown into a brooding ten-year-old.
I know that it’s not her fault. I miss Maddie, too. Not hearing her hum her way to the kitchen for all these years has been a pill I’ve had to swallow every morning.
There’s a brief knock on the door, and the pained smile on my face vanishes. The door swings open almost immediately.
Well, that was fast.
The Assistant from earlier, Ms. Summers – or was her name Chloe? – stands steadfast in the doorway. Gone is the offending yellow monstrosity she unleashed upon the world earlier. In its place is a black blazer, white blouse, and black skirt that teases just above her knees. This is more like it, an upgrade from that colorful jumble.
Her curly blonde hair is packed and tucked to one shoulder. She presses her lips together and looks me in the eye, a silent challenge hanging in the air. I nod curtly. She’s bold, I’ll give her that, despite her terrible sense of fashion. As a subtle irritation brews within me, I also feel a familiar tightening in my chest.
Focus, Daniel. Now is not the time for distractions.
“Good. You’re back.”
The words come out clipped. She swallows visibly as she raises her notepad to jot down notes.
“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding earlier,” she says.
They always say the same thing. Then, they proceed to show their brazen ineptitude.
“There’s a lot you have to catch up on,” I warn. “Are you familiar with the Nexus Convention?”
“The tech event?”
I narrow my eyes and stare at her. Oh, boy. Please tell me she knows what I’m talking about. Otherwise, this is going to be the end of it.
“Yes,” she says, smiling.
Phew! But somehow, I feel like this is going to be a pretty long day.
“The first thing you’ll need to remember is that a cup of coffee should be on my desk every morning. I’m in by 8:00 AM.”
She nods. The smile on her face now looks forced. Still, I can’t help but notice its beauty. The shade of pink lipstick on her lips stands out, not too bright, just enough to accentuate the shape.
My phone buzzes on my desk with a reminder alerting me to the upcoming Nexus meeting where we’ll review the high-level agendas for each day of the convention. I turn to the pile of documents scattered around one corner of my desk. I have yet to make any sense of them after Dianne’s departure. Meanwhile, the folders on the opposite side of my desk contain blueprint sketches, media segment outlines, and the whole lot which is slated to be reviewed at the next Nexus meeting.
A shadowy figure moves in my peripheral vision. I look up. She’s still standing there, her hand tucked behind her.
“What are you still doing here?”
“I—”
“Coffee, Ms. Summers?”
She raises her hand, her mouth opening then closing, as if attempting to say something.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” I ask. “There’s a coffeemaker down the hall.”
“How do you like your coffee?”
“Black.”
She mumbles what sounds like ‘I guessed as much’ and leaves the office. I grit my teeth and stare at the door for a few seconds after she shuts it.
I should call Mrs. Chen in Human Resources right now. There must be a reasonable explanation for why she hired Chloe that I’m simply not seeing yet. But I’m sure Mrs. Chen will gripe as she always does; her tightly knit frown never fails to appear whenever I ask her to look for another Assistant. When she does complain, I tell her I’ll interview as many candidates as needed until I find the right fit. But frustratingly, each subsequent Assistant is worse than the last.
I’ll need help sorting through these proposals to determine which is best to present to Nexus. I pick up the first one and glance through it, only to find that Dianne had the audacity to submit them in pen to paper form, labeling them as drafts. Thankfully, the accompanying slides were printed and not as dreadful as the scribbled notes. But, as luck would have it, she only submitted physical copies. Who knows where the digital files are.
She claimed exhaustion for her oversight and delay. That was the last time I saw her. The Assistants before her weren’t any better; they’d either forget important details or quit when they couldn't keep up with my standards of excellence.
Just then, the door swings open again. Chloe walks in with a coffee cup in her hand. I drop the sketches on the desk and motion her to come closer.
“Black, as you requested.”
“Glad you could find the coffeemaker,” I say, not lifting my gaze from the sheets of paper in front of me.
From the corner of my eye, I see her stretch her hand holding the coffee cup in my direction. I pause my studying of the sketches to reach for it, but as my fingers search the table where I assumed she placed the cup, I realize it isn’t there. I lift my head, and just as my finger connects with the coffee cup, she releases her grip. In a moment of horror, my eyes widen, and she hastily scrambles to catch the cup before it spills.
But it’s too late.
“ NO! ” I scream, coffee sloshing over the rim, the dark brown liquid pouring over the documents. I stare as the crisp, white pages turn soggy brown.
“Oh, Mr. Andrews, I’m so sorry!” Chloe gasps as she attempts to clean up the mess she has made.
I feel a spitball of rage rising in my throat, but I manage to choke it back. This can’t be happening. Two strikes in one day? This is a disaster.
“Get out,” I roar, my voice echoing in the room. The sound seems to snap Chloe out of her panic. She jumps back, her eyes wide with fear.
“But the documents…” she stammers. “I can work on them again. I’ll retype and have the reprinted copies sent to you.”
“Don’t worry about the documents,” I retort, already reaching for my phone. “Just leave.”
I grab my phone and dial Mrs. Chen’s number.
“Hello, Mr. Andrews,” she greets.
“HR,” I growl into the receiver. “Get me a new Assistant and make it fast.”
Chloe doesn’t leave. She stands there with the wet sketches dripping in her hands, trying to salvage what she can. The mere sight of her with the soggy sheets infuriates me further.
“Mr. Andrews?” Mrs. Chen says over the phone.
“Who was the second-best candidate? Give her a call and have her come in. Offer a ten percent bonus if she can get here within the hour.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Andrews, Chloe was the only applicant for the position.”
Only applicant ? What kind of a joke is this?
“There has to be someone else,” I demand.
“I’ve gone through the physical and virtual mailboxes. There are no other applications.”
“How is that possible?”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Unless you’re willing to advertise the position again and—”
“Never mind, Mrs. Chen.” I hang up.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Andrews. It was an honest mistake.”
“A clumsy mistake. Do I need to pick your outfits and teach you vocabulary at the same time?”
“No.”
She looks uneasy. She has to, especially after she just ruined important documents for a critical meeting.
“I’ll redo these as soon as possible.”
“Shoot. I’ll have to postpone today’s meeting. Reach out to Nexus and reschedule the meeting to first thing tomorrow morning. You’ll need to redo the proposals by the end of the day. If it takes you longer than office hours, you’ll have to drop it off at my place. I need them in hand by tonight.”
“Your place?” She questions. “I don’t know where you live.”
“I’m the CEO of this company, Ms. Summers. Surely, you can be resourceful enough to find that out.”
Her jaw tightens at my words. She takes the papers and walks to the door, a few sheets dropping at the entryway of my office. I watch her gather them.
“I’ll get someone from facilities to clean up in here and I’ll try to have these in your hand before the end of the day.”
“You bet you will,” I repeat. “Your job depends on it.”