Chapter 4 - Clem
The first two months of my job were a dream, notwithstanding my tyrant boss, who hadn’t grown any less demanding as time passed. There were times when I wondered how he believed anyone could do everything he asked of me, but the fact that he seemed so sure I could kept me motivated to keep going.
Well, that and the paycheck.
I had been given my long list of job requirements only after I eagerly accepted the position, and since I enjoyed having a roof over my head, all I could do was face them as they came.
And poring over discount websites for new furniture and artwork to make my workspace less depressing was kind of fun.
The pay was great, and I was able to move out of that shady room in Hollywood for a slightly less shady room closer to the office. Now I could leave my junker at home and walk to and from work, which saved me on gas money and the stress of waiting for the old car to die at any moment.
Everyone who worked at Gavrik Imports was pretty nice and supremely professional, which also made me stay on top of my game so I wouldn’t be judged poorly against their performances.
While this wasn’t my first job by far, it was the first one I thought might actually go somewhere.
After having to leave my college diploma behind, I was lucky for the opportunity.
The only thing that was a bit of a downer was the loneliness.
I spoke to Aunt Gigi regularly, but it didn’t quite cut it when she was so far away, and there were things I didn’t want to burden her with.
There were lunches with my coworkers, but they were mostly to discuss work.
The few times things lapsed into gossip territory, I clammed up, not wanting to have to discuss my own life.
A little loneliness was a small price to pay to stay safe and anonymous here on the other side of the country.
When Rurik told me to cancel my lunch plans with Diana from accounts, I wasn’t shocked.
What did kind of shock me was his compliment about the transformation of the outer office I pulled off on his skimpy budget.
I trotted along behind him, becoming increasingly more worried that he was about to give me some huge task I couldn’t possibly accomplish, because that seemed like something he enjoyed.
I enjoyed proving him wrong, but I kept wondering when he’d give me something that would ultimately make him see he had made a mistake in hiring me. He seemed in a good mood, not exactly rare for him, but it was much more likely he’d have a scowl on his face than a smile.
We chatted about what books we were currently reading, and while that was normally the high point of our lunches since I was so lean on a social life these days, I was both impatient and anxious to learn what he wanted me to do.
After we left the neighborhood, I figured we were going to his cousin’s diner, which I loved and couldn’t have afforded on my own, even with a steady salary. The burgers were divine, there was always live music, even at lunch time, and I’d seen two celebrities so far when we went there.
Rurik teased me the first time I goggled at an actor who was everyone’s favorite dad on TV when I was growing up. Then he had his cousin, Max, who owned the place, bring him over to get an autograph. It was crazy.
“It must be so nice to have a family member who runs a place like this,” I had said.
“You have no idea,” Rurik told me. “Just wait.”
What was that supposed to mean? I had no idea, and I didn’t randomly question my boss when he was in a good mood, like he was now.
“Oh my goodness,” I said, as he pulled his car up to the valet station.
Oh, not the vintage Ferrari this time, but the decked-out Mercedes he used to take prospective clients to his warehouse. His “everyday car,” as he called it, leaving me to believe he might have more than those two supremely fancy vehicles.
That was a conundrum I couldn’t figure out, and no one else in the office had ever brought up.
For a man who had just started a business and was a stickler about the cost of chairs, he had at least two eye-wateringly expensive cars, a rotation of watches I couldn’t pronounce most of the names of, and now he was casually rolling up to a restaurant that even I knew would cost at least three hundred bucks for our lunch.
“Why?” I asked, hurriedly searching the restaurant on my phone.
Khoroshiy had two Michelin stars, hundreds of rave reviews, dozens of pictures of celebrities enjoying their meal there, and, according to one headline, a six-month wait.
“How?” I asked instead. I had only been at Gavrik Imports for two months.
He grinned, guiding me toward the door with his hand on the small of my back.
The heat of his palm seeped through my blouse, and for a moment, I wondered if Rurik was about to cross a line. And was I so against it if he did?
He was gorgeous, powerful, clearly over-the-top rich, and most importantly, we loved the same books. He could be a tyrant, but his hardass expectations had driven me to excel beyond just the ordinary motivation of wanting to keep a roof over my head.
“As much as I’d like to keep that look of hero worship on your face,” he said, making my eyes bulge out of my head as I tried to look neutral. “Another one of my cousins owns the place. His wife is the head chef.”
“Hero worship?” I sputtered. “I was impressed, but…”
“Don’t worry, I’m used to it,” he said.
The unusual mischief in his green eyes told me he was joking, but it wasn’t beyond belief that he was just that arrogant, either.
The man didn’t lack confidence. I liked that twinkle a little too much as he kept smiling down at me while we were immediately taken to a secluded table in the luxe restaurant.
No, I did not like the twinkle or the hand on my back.
What was I thinking? He was my boss, and I needed a job a lot more than I needed a romantic interlude, despite my budding loneliness in this vast city of strangers.
And what was I doing, thinking about romantic interludes at all after swearing off men forever not so long ago, with good reason.
My trust issues were no joke, so the job was always going to be a priority over a relationship.
“Let me tell you what I’d like for you to do,” he said, before I could get dragged down an unwanted trip down memory lane. Didn’t need that, didn’t want it. “It’s not one on the list of job requirements,” he added.
“That ever-expanding list?” I asked. He didn’t seem to mind when I got a little sassy, and I quickly toned it down by assuring him I looked forward to whatever he thought I could handle.
“I believe you can handle a lot,” he said, his eyes locking with mine.
I reached for my ice water and nearly knocked it over. Something about the way he was looking at me today was different. I didn’t hate it, just didn’t understand it.
“The meeting with Bocharov is only a week away, and I’ve looked over what the research team has put together.”
Actually, they’d told me what they were planning, and I compiled the report for Rurik, but I didn’t want to seem like I was undermining the very team I hoped to be on one day, so I tried to hide my feelings.
“What did you think of it?” I asked, feigning enthusiasm. “I was especially impressed with the—”
“It’s all shit,” he interrupted, scowling.
“Yes, all shit,” I agreed, making his lip quirk up. “Should I schedule a meeting with them?”
“I want you to research a product that will knock my bull-headed silent partner on his ass,” he told me. “Can you do that in one week?”
My heart soared, and I shakily pulled my phone out of my purse. “Not to be presumptuous," I said weakly,
“I need you to be presumptuous if it gets me something better than long-lasting batteries,” he snapped.
I swallowed hard. That was the one item on the research team’s list I had been impressed with. Rurik was right. The products they were suggesting the company start importing were all shit.
“They’re being too careful,” I said, my hands shaking with excitement, but also abject fear. I had been doing my own research for fun and for just such a moment as this, but even in my wildest dreams, I thought it would be years away.
“Agreed,” he said. “So, can you be bold?”
I found the information I’d been compiling on my phone and scooted my chair around closer to him so he could see it. “Meet Koboyashi Corp.”
I played him the videos and showed him their website. He turned to me, eyes dark, mouth drawn into a tight line.
“A game system?”
Okay, he wasn’t impressed. Yet. I scrolled through the Japanese company’s most recent sales figures, then showed him how much Americans spent on video games.
“This handheld system is flying off the shelves in Japan,” I said.
“You can’t compare it to anything we have here, and if Koboyashi were a bigger company and had a better advertising team, someone else would already be making millions off it. Look.”
He leaned closer as I showed him the videos I found of influential gamers who’d traveled to Japan solely to buy the system and were raving about it. Rewatching them made me feel the same rising panic that I first felt when I was digging through the internet for great products.
Rurik felt it too, as he had taken my phone out of my hand and was reading all the comments from young people dying to hand over their money. He knew we needed to jump on this before anyone else did.
“Make contact,” he said, realizing our steaks had arrived. “If they’re amenable, you’re pitching this next week.”
“Me?” I yelped.
“Why not you? You did the work.”
He said it so forcefully that there was no way I could chicken out.
The next day, the president of Koboyashi Corp himself answered my inquiry email to tell me they were coming to Los Angeles in less than a month, and he’d added us to the roster of other companies who’d expressed interest in helping introduce their product to the American market.
Rurik insisted we celebrate with champagne, certain we’d shine over anyone else who tried to woo them.
I barely slept for the next few days, and every evening I was in his office to show him my progress. He had so much confidence in me that I couldn’t help but feel just as sure that Mr. Bocharov would approve.
When the big day finally came, I wore my lucky skirt, the same one I had on for my interview, and gave myself a pep talk in the mirror.
“See?” I said, fighting tears because so much was riding on this going well. “Who needs a college degree?”
Four months ago, I had fled from one side of the country to another, giving up my dreams, or so I thought.
Two months ago, I was worried about where my next meal was coming from, a week away from being homeless, wracked with the fear that what I left might not have been so bad compared to what I faced.
Of course, it was much, much worse. I made the right decision.
This proved it. I didn’t just have a job, but a real shot at getting things back on track. The way they should have been if…
Nope. No trips down memory lane. Not today.
In the office, I made sure everything was perfect, from the bagel and fresh fruit trays to the screen being connected properly so my presentation wouldn’t have any hiccups.
I had only met the silent partner a few times when he hurried in and out, and he’d only ever been kind to me, but that was in passing when I was nothing more than his partner’s assistant.
Now he’d be judging me and my ability, and if I screwed up, I might never get another chance. I might actually be out of a job altogether if this was a flop.
“It’s not,” I said forcefully.
“I beg your pardon?”
Mr. Bocharov entered the room, freezing my blood in my veins. He was as big and intimidating as my boss, who was now giving me an encouraging glance as they took their seats.
“Where’s Leonard?” Mr. Bocharov asked, looking around for the head of product research.
“Clem is going to be doing this one,” Rurik said, nodding for me to get started before his so-called bull-headed partner could object.
My fear dissipated as soon as the first slide loaded on the screen. Those numbers didn’t lie. As I went through the presentation, Mr. Bocharov went from bored to leaning forward, asking me to go back and repeat certain things.
“The president of the company is excited to meet with me when they’re in LA in a few weeks,” Rurik told him, stretching the truth a tiny bit.
“Great,” Mr. Bocharov said, standing up. “Let’s aim for an exclusive contract.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Mr. Bocharov told me, “Nice work,” on his way out, and I sank onto the nearest chair, buzzing with happiness.
The strength that had stiffened my knees and kept me standing throughout both their scrutiny was long gone.
“Nice work?” Rurik said. “Amazing work.” He scooped me out of the chair and swung me into a hug that lasted a moment too long and that I enjoyed way too much.
I was weaker in the knees than before when he let me go.
“Now let’s bring this home. For the next few weeks, you need to learn everything there is to know about Koboyashi Corp.
Inside and out, down to what they like to eat for breakfast. We’re going to win that contract. ”
And just like that, he was back to being a tyrant, heading out of the presentation room without a backward glance. Was that relief or disappointment as I watched him go?
Didn’t matter. I had work to do.