10. Dealing With This As A Team Now
DEALING WITH THIS AS A TEAM NOW
AIDEN
Monday morning of my third week arrives, and I’m still not feeling any more confident about my abilities as an insurance broker as I was when I started.
I feel like I’ve read every article ever written on underwriting, risk management and claims settlements, and all I’ve learned is that this industry is going to bore me to tears.
At least I’ve found a place to live. After drinks with Damien and Vanessa, I’d centred my search area around Kangaroo Point, New Farm and Newstead.
After a few dumps, I’d found the perfect fully furnished one-bedroom flat in Kangaroo Point, and am moving in on the weekend.
It’s only a twenty-minute walk to work and right up the road from the pub they’d taken me to.
Things sort of feel like they’re starting to fall into place. Now if I could just get my assistant to stop hating me, that would be perfect.
“Dayna Melrose is on the phone.” Tara’s clipped voice comes through on the intercom, and I look through the glass in my office to see her watching me from her desk.
Although she’s made it more than clear that any feelings between us previously are gone on her side, I’m still finding it difficult to push past my deep attraction to her. Especially with the sexy, pissed off look that flashes across her face when I reply.
“Okay. And remind me of who she is, again?” I’ve been struggling to keep track of all the clients in the large portfolio I’ve been handed.
It seems like John didn’t really have a specific client base, so I’ve been dealing with everything from medical practices to high end retail stores. Not exactly the easiest way to learn the ropes.
Tara sighs. I’m growing tired of the sound of it, but I can’t really blame her, even though the sound of it makes me want to tear my hair out. Or bend her over my knee… You know, a completely appropriate reaction to the sound of your assistant sighing.
“She’s your biggest client. They had a break-in a few weeks ago and they are dealing with the claims assessors.”
“Right… What am I meant to do?” I wonder at what point I’m going to get the hang of this.
“Be her insurance broker,” Tara replies, attitude practically rolling off her and slamming into me through the glass.
The roll of her eyes makes me both want to laugh and also punch something. This woman definitely has the ability to get under my skin, unlike anyone else I’ve met before.
“Ha bloody ha. I meant, what is my role now that the claims assessor is involved, if she’s been dealing with them in person? Doesn’t feel like I have anything to offer at this point.”
Another sigh. I grip my pen in both hands and resist the urge to snap it in half.
“Dayna is the type of client who expects her hand to be held through everything. Just give her assurances that you’re handling it. Maybe make an appointment to go out and see her.”
Bloody hell. The idea of actually going and seeing a client already fills me with dread.
I honestly don’t know what I was thinking when I accepted this job from Dad.
I am so far out of my depth that the prospect of getting a job washing dishes sounds far more appealing than fronting up to this client’s place of work and pretending I have any right to manage arranging insurance for said business.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “Put her through.”
I manage to bumble my way through the call, although I’m not entirely sure how much faith Dayna has in my abilities by the end of it. We arrange for me to attend the practice when the assessor is going out on Wednesday, and I can feel my palms sweating already at the thought.
When I hang up, I call Tara in to my office.
“You’re coming with me to a meeting with Dayna and the assessor on Wednesday.”
Tara raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. “And why is that?”
I mirror her, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair, affecting an air of arrogance that I don’t come even close to feeling. “Because you have a relationship with the client and that will put her at ease.”
“I’ve never met any of the clients in person.”
I drop the attitude. “Really? Why?”
She shrugs. “That was John’s thing. I dealt with all the actual work. He did the client facing stuff, went out and checked their businesses out, then brought me the information to get the cover sorted. I only talk to the clients on the phone.”
I nod. “Right. Well, that’s changing now. We’re dealing with this as a team from now on,” I say, putting my metaphorical foot down.
A glimmer of excitement shows on her face before she shuts it down. “So I guess I deal with the clients in person now too, as well as do all the background work. What is it you’ll be doing?”
While I can understand her annoyance, I’m getting really fucking tired of the constant attitude.
“Look, I get it,” I bite back. “You hate me and the fact that I got this job. But I’m out of my depth here and have admitted that.
You say you want to move up the ranks, and I’m giving you the chance to get that experience.
I am more than willing to learn the background stuff as well, so that you’re not the one shouldering it all by yourself. But you gotta meet me halfway here.”
She cocks her head to the side. “I don’t hate you, Aiden.”
“Could have fooled me, with all the sighs and snarky comments.” I raise an eyebrow, and am pleased to see she seems at least a little ashamed about it, dipping her head while pushing her hair back behind her ear.
It’s been driving me crazy that my initial attraction to her still remains. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’m a masochist, because the meaner she is, the fitter I find her. It’s disconcerting, and I really think I need to speak to someone about this. Probably a professional.
She doesn’t reply, and I shake my head, my turn to sigh now.
“So you’re going to be coming with me to client appointments now, and when we get back from each one, you’ll run me through what needs to be done.
Okay?” I sound far more sure than I actually am, but fake it til you make it is a real thing.
She nods slowly, her expression wary, before turning and heading back to her desk.
I let out a breath and lean back into my chair. Bloody hell, I really hope we can get this all behind us soon, because I’d like to see the nice version of Tara that I met that first night.
“So, how are you settling in?” Felicity slides in across the table from me in the office canteen.
This is the first time she’s spoken to me since I met her on the first day, and I’m not entirely sure why I’m receiving her attention now.
I usually head out of the office for lunch, but had been so busy that I’d run out of time, so just snagged a sandwich from the ones left over from some client meeting Dad had earlier .
I shrug while I chew the bite of the rather disappointing sandwich, swallowing before answering. “Fine, I guess.”
She’s an attractive woman with very shiny blonde hair that she wears pulled back into a severe ponytail, and perfect makeup.
It’s clear she spends a lot of time on her appearance before work each day, and I am yet to see her wear the same outfit twice.
I know plenty of guys who would drool after her.
But from what I’ve heard about the admin team from several others, I’m wary of letting my guard down around any of them.
Besides, my brain space is taken up by one annoyingly attractive, curvy redhead.
“A few of us are going out for drinks on Friday. You should join us.”
My desire to make new friends wars with my self-preservation instincts.
“Who’s going?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee, before pulling a face.
The coffee in the canteen is awful, but I forget every time.
“Besides me, you mean?” she says, smiling while fluttering her eyelashes a little.
“Well, seeing as you were the one mentioning it, I figured that was a given.” I smile back, but her flirting is wasted on me.
“Claire, Matilda, me and a few of the assistant brokers.” She shrugs, spearing her salad with a fork and bringing it to her mouth.
“Is Tara going?” I don’t know if I want her to say yes or no.
“Pfft, as if. Tara never comes out with us. We’re not exactly her crowd.”
Ah, and there’s the bitchy side I’d been warned about.
“In what way?” I ask, feeling a little protective of my prickly assistant.
“Well, you know… We’re clearly very different people.” She waves down her body, the implication clear.
I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe so. Have you ever actually asked her to go out with you all, though?”
“She doesn’t socialise with anyone here, except for a few of the other assistant brokers. She keeps to herself. I don’t think she likes fun.”
I’ve got to wonder if Felicity is self aware enough to know how bitchy she sounds. I’m going to guess not, though. She doesn’t seem like self reflection is high on her list of qualities.
“Well, thank you for the invitation, but I’ll have to pass this time. I’m moving over the weekend so need to have an early night.” She doesn’t need to know that all I’ll be doing is moving my suitcase across the river. “Maybe next time, though.”
I ball up the wrapper of my sandwich and toss it in the bin on my way out.
Deciding I deserve a better coffee than what I just attempted to drink, I head back down to the lobby and order a flat white on almond milk, adding a hot chocolate to my order at the last minute.
When I return to the office, I weave my way back through the sea of desks and place the hot chocolate in front of Tara while she stares at her screen, eating her lunch at her desk like I’ve seen her do every day.
I keep walking, saying nothing, but when I take a seat at my desk, I glance up and see her drinking it with a little smile.
Maybe I can get past that icy exterior after all.
By the time Friday night rolls around, I feel like I’ve just barely survived.
While I’ve taken to buying Tara a daily hot chocolate, I’ve still yet to feel like she completely warmed to me.
We’d been to two client meetings together, and I can tell she’s itching to take the lead, but I know I need to still try and do the role I was hired for, even though she is clearly far more capable.
When she was showing me the quoting systems, it was all very overwhelming.
But I’m determined to no longer look like a complete idiot, so I’ve been trying to work it out mostly on my own.
I decide not to let Tara in on how many times I’ve had to ask Damien to give me the rundown when she’s not around.
After yet another sad dinner while sitting on the bed in my hotel room, I down my last beer and decide to check out the free dancing event that Vanessa had told me about. At least if I’m out and about, I won’t feel quite so alone.
Wandering through the Queen Street Mall, I find myself watching all the different people milling around.
There are the office workers out having Friday night drinks, dressed more casually than they usually would be the rest of the week.
Families with young children wander around, checking out the various street entertainers set up at different points, as well as couples out on dates.
And university students walking from the city campus to the public transport hub with an innate coolness to them while they ignore everyone else, wearing their massive headphones and bored expressions.
When I reach the top of the mall, I hear the music pumping, and it calls to my soul.
My gaze falls on the crowd at the base of the building facing the old casino, a heritage building that is dwarfed by the tall buildings surrounding it, including the new casino that I’m told is a recent edition to the city skyline.
I like the look of the older one better.
My feet carry me closer of their own accord.
I had long forgotten about my love of the latin dance community, and the fast pace of salsa in particular.
A reggaeton song is playing, providing the beat for the dancers whose feet are moving so fast. While I can spot a few beginners in the crowd, staring down at their feet while they try to follow the basic salsa steps, it’s the experienced dancers I’m drawn to.
I’d had no idea that this community existed here, and I’m excited at the idea of getting amongst the dancers and letting the music flow through me.
But after years away from it, tonight all I’ll be doing is watching and trying to find a place here.
Taking a seat at the open-air bar next to the unofficial dance floor, I order a beer and scan the crowd. While I’m admiring a few couples who are performing complicated footwork, a woman appears in front of me, with flyers in her hand.
“Hey. Are you interested in learning how to do this yourself?” she asks, thrusting one of the flyers in front of me.
“Uh, sure,” I reply, taken aback slightly.
I wasn’t quite ready to talk to anyone yet.
“We’re a new dance school, starting next week. We’ve got casual classes as well as set terms. You should check us out. We always need more good-looking young men.” She winks and moves along to accost some other unsuspecting spectators, leaving me staring down at the flyer.
Why not? This would be the perfect way to meet others to dance with, and I might finally find some friends outside of work and my father’s new family.