The tall building with huge letters, Thorne PR, engraved on it, mocks me. It is big and intimidating. It stares back with its doors open. The more I keep looking upon it, the more it seems like it might fall on me.
I have never worked in any formal setting. The closest I came to, was waiting tables at a fast food joint, the uniforms were degrading, the pay was painfully menial, the hours long, and the boss frankly disgusting and disturbing. So here I am, unsure of the attire I choose It is the only decent formal thing I have. A worn-out silk blouse, a black short pencil skirt, and slutty heels that break men’s wallets.
I breathe in and square my shoulders and take the first step into this unfamiliar world. Last night I spend hours and hours researching about Thorne PR, more precisely, Thorne himself, he is my target after all. I dug further into his dating Life. His first girlfriend at sixteen, was a Nickelodeon actor. She had won several awards, his second girlfriend, was a French Model, His third was an heiress to food industries, his fourth and now his wife Is a humanitarian ambassador. All those four women had one thing in common which I wasn’t. They are dead-drop gorgeous.
I should leave while I still can. This isn’t my typical world. These people have a purpose, a goal to keep them in check, unlike me.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, “You must be Katerina.” I turn to meet a woman’s brown eyes. I remember her from my research, she’s Cassandra’s personal assistant.
I nod.
She eyes my choice of outfit with raw disapproval. “You know this isn’t a girl’s night out.”
How can I know?
I nod again anyway.
“Follow my lead.” She starts to walk and I do the same.
“where is Cassandra?” I ask as we walk.
“I am the one you will deal with.” She speaks without a single glance.
“I need to speak to her.” I insist.
“She said you will insist,” she says smiling, not in a kind way. “Karma, is the answer she gave me for you.”
We walk inside the busy building. My father owns a small logistics company. His business occupies just one floor of an old beat-up building but still earned him enough to live comfortably. He never allowed me to step my feet there. It wasn’t a woman’s world. So, as we go up the building, I feel lost and believe my father was right. I feel small and the dumbest.
We alight at the tenth floor. “This will be your desk.” She points at a tiny disorganized table.
“You will be Mr. Thorne’s personal assistant. I believe you already know your responsibilities.” She says.
No, because I never graduated from high school and it is my first time being a personal assistant.
But, I don’t say that.
I just nod because I want to just get fired and Cassandra will realize I have no use to her.
“Here you will find everything you need to know, how Mr. Thorne likes his Coffee, his calendar, diary and such.” She gives me a piece of a paper.
I lay it carelessly on my desk.
She turns and starts to walk away before remembering something, she turns and speaks. “O, discretion and diplomacy are important and essential to Mr. Thorne. That is what will keep you here.” With that she walks away swinging her hips.
About 10.00 am Mr. Thorne walks in a black suit, he never bothers to glance my way, his towering height creating an eclipse as strolls past me like I am invisible, he throws open his office door and bangs it.
‘hello, I am seated here.’ I think as I try to check him through the glass.
He immediately gets busy on the phone. He is mad, I can tell by how he is throwing his hands in the air and banging his fist on the table. he is a complete opposite of the Throne that the papers write about. They have described him as a calm and understanding man. That is why I initially doubted Cassandra when she approached me. I think she was right. He yanks the phone and throws it across the wall. I tense when I see him stand and he starts to walk towards the door, I freeze when he opens it and his devilish dark eyes stare at me.
“Where is my Coffee?” he barks and I cower back. His voice is loud and scary.
“uh…” I stammer, afraid.
“Are you deaf? Forget it” he gives up and asks instead, “when is my meeting with Mr. Smith?”
I start to feel dizzy, the room start to grow smaller. I grab the nearest thing I can and hand it over to him. I just want him to leave so that I can breathe. My father was right; the corporate isn’t a woman world. Warming a man’s bed and food was. I excelled in that, that way I excelled being Karma and not a personal assistant.
He tears it into pieces and throws them on the desk.
“Where did my wife get you, school for the dumb?” he growls.
“I….” I can’t form any meaningful word. My brain seems to have mushed up.
“I need my coffee now.” He orders and strides back to his office.
I try to find the list Cassandra’s PA gave me with how Thorne loves his coffee and realize it is the one that he shredded with his bare hands. I sigh with frustration, why did I agree to this? It has been a while since I was treated this badly and I swore I would never condone it again. I should just tell Cassandra I quit and let her do the worse she can. When I lift my head again I find a girl with black rimmed eye glasses watching me. She smiles to reveal her braces.
“You must be the new Assistant to Thorne.” I glance at him through the glass, he is talking on his mobile phone.
I nod. I badly want to reach out to her and remove the ridiculous glasses she has on and smooth her hair. She is a girl; she should embrace her femininity. I don’t understand why she should hide all that beauty.
“I am Clara.” She raises her brows waiting for my response.
Oh, we are doing this.
“I am Katerina.” I respond, curtly.
She is a petite girl with a wild dark hair and full lips that she just doesn’t know how make them pop. I know I will be glad to help.
“He likes his coffee, dark and no sugar. There’s a coffee machine in the kitchen.” She asks me to follow her and I oblige if that will keep Mr. Grumpy off my neck.
Clara keeps on talking, she seems to know everything that goes on around until she says something that catches my attention.
“Pardon me.” I say.
“Like I said you are the sixth PA he has had this year.” She repeats.
What? Six? It was just April which meant none of them could stand him for a month.
“is he always this grumpy?” I ask.
She laughs and shakes her head, “You call that grumpy, we call that one of his good days.”
I didn’t understand what she means, I neither have the interest to dig further into his terrible life. What I have seen is enough for me. Just push through the day and never to return.
I don’t know how operate the coffee machine so Clara does all the work. I don’t know why she is kind to me and eager to help. Most Women hate me because of the attention I get from men.
“Thanks.” I say after she was done.
“don’t be eager to thank me yet.” Her steps follows behind me as I walk towards Mr.Thornes office.
“Good luck.” She whispers and for a second I waver, that term has always meant bad things to me.
I find myself walking in without knocking and don’t attempt to announce my presence to Mr. I AM SO BUSY, he stares back with wide eyes and raises his eyebrows when he sees me. This is the time I have come close to his face. He looks older compared to his edited pictures in the media, maybe in his thirties, I can only assume. His has a jet black hair that is kept neat and compliments his dark eyes. his attitude makes him less attractive to me, and the initial fear I had that I wasn’t his type Is wiped off because I don’t think he is my type either.
He squints his eyes at me and crinkles his nose, “do you have any sense of professionalism in you?” he spits.
I ignore him and place his coffee on top of the open files and this time I realize my mistake. His lips curl up and clenches his jaw.
“Do you have a spare brain somewhere, you are too dysfunction to have survived this long?” he asks as moves the coffee away from his paper work and some spill on it. Clara said he like his coffee cup full.
I can feel my blood starting to boil.
“Get out of my air, your unreliability is suffocating.” He squabbles.
I turn on my heel ready to leave before he stops me, “Wait!” He orders.
I turn to find him taking a sip of his coffee as soon as it touches his lips he spits it out and throws the cup away as the contents in it splash onto the wall.
“what garbage is this? First you fill my cup full like I am some gluttonous bastard, then you carelessly walk into my office as if it is a toilet, and ruin my work with it…” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Where did you even order that coffee?”
All this time I am praying he chokes on his saliva, miserable man.
I open my mouth and sarcastically grin at him, “I made it at the kitchen.” I reply, shamelessly.
“you what?” he stands and I see his nose flaring in anger. I take a step back. He takes a mouth wash and gurgles almost all of it.
“You brought me cheap, dirty Coffee like I am some commoner?” he asks.
And that is where I draw the line. I point my index finger at him, “Listen Mr. you can shove your condescending attitude up your ass and I can use my heel to lock it up there in case you may want to diarrhea it around people. That dirty coffee is what you give to people, it good for others but not for you because they are of lesser god or what? Yes, they are commoners but without them you will be like them or even worse. You can toss a few crumbs to my existence but at least I don’t get to share the misery you go spilling around people. And to think I thought highly of you, what a waste. You can tell you wife I quit and she can do as she pleases.” With that closing remark I walk out and don’t even care to the group of women with thick rimmed glasses glancing at me. I am done.Â
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