Chapter 1 #2
Kate groaned, leaning back against her chair. “In this economy? This is the first temp job the agency could get me in the past month. If I don’t get some cash in soon, they’re going to shut off my cell phone.” She bit her lip. “And… well, you know I had to move home again.”
“Ah, shit.” Prue’s voice lost all impatience. “Right. Sorry, sweetie.”
“Yeah, so’m I,” Kate said. “It’s going to take a little while to get my reserves back up and move out.” And God, did she need to move out. “You’re right, Prue. I need to buckle down and stick with it. I’ve worked for lawyers. This can’t be worse than that, right?”
Prue snickered. “Atta girl.”
“The trick’ll just be making sure I last the six to eight weeks, that’s all.”
“Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll prove yourself and get promoted,” Prue teased. “You’ll make gobs of money, buy your own mansion. Hire a European nanny to dog-sit your teacup poodle while you sail on your yacht around San Francisco.”
“And somehow still manage to topple the warped bureaucracy of the capitalist pig-dogs from within,” Kate agreed, as Prue hooted. “Gotta run, my Berkeley is showing. Hang out tonight?”
“After my late Tarot client,” Prue promised. “Give me a call.”
Kate hung up, then squared her shoulders and stood. She just had to show that she was valuable, that’s all. Then she could rack up the paychecks for a few weeks and get the hell out of Hell.
The question being, how did she prove to her scatter-brained employer that she was worth keeping on?
If the woman was as disorganized as Steffi made her out to be, Ginny would probably welcome the opportunity to take credit for some successes that an underling pulled off.
Kate grimaced. Her Uncle Oscar was sort of the same way, before he’d finally driven the company into the ground despite her best efforts.
At least Kate had intimate experience with the dynamic as a result.
After about twenty minutes of wrong turns and several requests for directions, Kate finally managed to find Ginny’s office. She knocked, quietly at first, then with a bit more force.
“What?” Ginny snapped.
“Um, Ginny?” she said, opening the door. “I mean, Ms. Ginny?”
Kate paused as she took in the office. It was big, and like everything else she’d seen here, it was luxurious…
more like a lawyer’s office, with plenty of leather-bound books on the shelves, an exotic flower arrangement on a low credenza.
The desk itself, on the other hand, looked like the coffee table at a frat house, with a mess of papers, soiled napkins, and empty take-out containers everywhere.
Ginny was apparently enjoying a sizeable breakfast burrito and a sixty-four-ounce tumbler of coffee, or soda, or something.
She was also staring intently at a cherry red phone.
She took the Fiendish brand color scheme to heart, apparently.
At first, Kate thought Ginny might be texting, or checking some news, or something. Then, the telltale chimes of Candy Crush emerged.
Kate waited until Ginny lost the level before clearing her throat.
“What? Oh, it’s you.” Ginny asked, looking irritated as she shut off her phone. “Something wrong? Because I’m sure I said come find me only if there’s an emergency.”
Actually, you didn’t.
But that didn’t matter. Kate was thinking positive! Proving she was valuable! Being proactive!
Not gagging while I do all that!
“I don’t know if the temp agency sent over my resume—” Kate began.
“Of course they did.” Ginny said. “You worked at some little bookstore or something, right?”
“Publishing company,” Kate corrected. “It was a small company, though, so I wore a lot of hats. I did some production, some ad trafficking, lot of computer work. I, ah, also did a lot of administrative stuff. Special projects, file organization, workflow systems.”
Ginny’s expression clearly said and why do I care?
So she’d have to connect the dots for the woman. No problem.
“I thought… if you had any projects that you wanted extra help with,” Kate said slowly, “Anything you’ve had trouble with, or just find time consuming, I could pitch in.”
Ginny’s gray eyes narrowed. “Well,” she said, drawing the word out like a switchblade as her eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you the ambitious one?”
“Not really,” Kate said, laughing. She’d been called many things, but ambitious had never made the cut. “Believe me, I’m not bucking to move up the ladder. I just…”
“No, I see.” Ginny studied her for a moment longer. “What, exactly, do you think you can do well, Kate?”
Warning! Warning! Tactical error!
Maybe Ginny wasn’t clever enough to realize that Kate was presenting her with an opportunity. Or she was too paranoid to want someone competent around her. Or maybe both.
Still, Kate had gone too far to reverse course now. “I’m told I’m a pretty good problem solver. And I work, um, quickly.”
“Really.” There was speculation in Ginny’s eyes.
Ginny got up, then motioned for Kate to follow her. She walked Kate over to a closed door, just down the hall, then opened it.
It was a very small office, or a very large supply closet.
There was a huge stack of file boxes, and a rickety old black and red desk that might’ve been stylish at one time but now looked like a bastard stepchild at the Fiendish furniture reunion.
Still, there was one of the most recent desktop workstations set up, as well as a combo scanner/printer.
“Mr. Kestrel appointed me with the important task of getting all this highly confidential information from everyone who works in this building,” Ginny said, self-importance and warning threaded through every syllable. “I made sure every single person filled out the questionnaire I created.”
“Okay,” Kate said slowly, looking at the stacks of papers.
“Now Mr. Kestrel wants a phone directory of all his direct reports. Just the phone numbers, not all the other stuff.” Ginny sniffed. “So do that.”
Kate walked over to the desk, picked up one of the “questionnaires” that was littered across the surface. “Wait. These are all handwritten?”
“Yes,” Ginny said, with a smug nod. “It’s easier that way.”
On what planet did this make things easier for anyone?
Why didn’t Ginny just have them fill out an electronic form?
It could be created in minutes, be filterable…
secure, even, if set up correctly. Kate thumbed through the paperwork.
There were four pages full of everything—salary, social security numbers, passwords, you name it.
All stacked haphazardly in boxes in an out-of-the-way, unlocked closet.
Nice and secure. She wanted to smack her head against a wall.
“What if someone has to change something?” Kate asked, appalled.
“They can fill out a new form,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Kate, it’s not that difficult. Some people even filled it out in pencil, so they could erase it if they had to.”
Kate forced herself to keep her horror and disgust from her face. Still, no question: “Ms. Ginny” was completely incompetent.
“All right,” Kate said, mentally rolling up her sleeves. “I can make up a phone directory.”
“For all these,” Ginny said, gesturing to the boxes.
Kate shrugged. Well, at least she had a project now.
God knew that the business could use the security…
once the forms were completed, she’d bag the stuff for shredding.
She’d also set up the input form and secure database, so people wouldn’t have to go through all that again.
Ginny could take credit for all of it, and the employees, their supervisors, and HR would have a truly easier time.
Ginny looked at her watch, then smiled, like a cat toying with a half-dead mouse.
“Of course, you need to have it done by the time I get in tomorrow.” Her flinty eyes gleamed. “If you’re the whiz you claim to be, that should be more than enough time. And if you’re not… well, I don’t know how well you’re going to work out at Fiendish, dear. We expect a lot.”
“What, by nine in the morning? Tomorrow?” Kate echoed. Or I’m going to get fired?
“Eight forty-five,” Ginny corrected, her cruel smile widening. “We believe in punctuality.”