The 43rd Floor (closed)

[Tanned_babe]

“Careful!” The formidable looking woman snapped at the young man who had, in his obvious haste to leave the elevator, almost knocked the coffee cup out of her grasp.

“I’m so sorry.” He exclaimed, as a group of similar aged individuals filed out the lift, sniggering as they did so. They looked like infantile CEOs in their best corporate get up. Infant was the operative word; the boy’s panic stricken eyes, which were level with the terse woman’s, flashed this way and that the way a child’s does when they have been scolded.

That would be our Future Leaders, Stephanie thought unkindly as she stepped out onto the 43rd floor. She sighed and ran a neatly manicured hand through her dark hair, which despite her eleven hour flight appeared characteristically lustrous. The slim figure wheeled a weekend travel bag down the corridor, making her way to the office, a room she hadn’t spent much time in of late. However she didn’t make it that far. “Stephanie?”

“Afternoon Harrison.” She said unsmiling to the Vice President of Risk Management who, at present, the Chief Financial Officer, didn’t have a lot of time for. If his department truly did manage risk they might not be in this mess and she might get some of her life back. However, she shouldn’t hold a grudge. What was it that last Responsive Leadership course had taught her? A mistake is only a mistake when someone is holding a grudge. What bullshit.

“How did you get on in Buenos Aires?” The man enquired, oblivious to his younger colleague’s resentment.

“As expected.” She said evasively, checking her phone that was now telling her she was due in a meeting. When he pushed for more information the woman snapped, her native Dutch accent slipping through. “I really think its Roman,” Roman Lang was Head of the company’s Americas region and line manager to the Leadership team, most of which, Stephanie and Harrison included, resided in the New York office. She continued, “Whom I should be debriefing, not you. I’m sure you’ll get a summary at next week’s management meeting. Now, I’m late, if you’ll excuse me.” And with that she strode down the corridor to Suite C.

Fortunately her Apple desktop was always ready to go, meaning within seconds of entering the office the woman was able to join the conference call. What was it even about? “Stephanie Visser.” She said when prompted, as her dark green eyes flitted through her calendar to find more information. She had a rule, well, Ms Visser had several rules, one of them being she did not accept a meeting without a clear: subject, agenda and desired outcome.

She muted her mic. “Useless.” She tutted in reference to her last PA. Since adopting the CFO role, the company had struggled to find Stephanie a suitable assistant. Business was booming for the Big Four and efficient PA’s that could do more than get coffee and schedule flights were hard to come by. Despite the secretarial connotations, an Executive Assistant was a good, challenging job. And when someone delivered they were usually well compensated. However, the new talent just wasn’t there; everyone wanted to be an intern, a graduate and go into middle management before actually ready to do so.

Stepping from her internal soapbox, the CFO, half listening to discussion which centered on an investment decision in Alaska, brought up the internal messaging service and searched for ‘Warren’. She clicked on Patricia Warren’s details and asked the woman to come through.

Not even a minute later, Patricia a protective, aging woman who headed up the Leadership Team’s Assistants knocked on her door twice before entering. She enquired towards the computer from which the conference call was emitting as if scared she were interrupting.

“It’s fine. We are on mute. Where’s my PA?”

“You, eh, fired her, Stephanie?” That wasn’t strictly true. The girl just hadn’t been hired after her trial period, as had the one previously and the one before that…

“Pat.” She sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. “We agreed I’d come back to an assistant.”

“I understand.” The older woman said reassuringly. “It’s just we, we haven’t found a suitable alternative. No one quite, quite matches, your…”

“Standards?” Stephanie assisted, raising a perfectly waxed eyebrow. “Look, I need someone now. Whoever you can get in the interim will do. So long as they can book travel and schedule my calendar. I won’t expect miracles. I don’t know what fool has been looking after things for the past three weeks, but I almost missed my flight this morning. Bloody car never showed up to take me to the airport.” Stephanie knew fine well who was looking after her calendar and that Patricia was already extremely stretched, however she hoped pointing out the misdemeanor would encourage the older woman to get this mess sorted.

“Right.” The greying haired woman squirmed uncomfortably. “I’ll call the agency right away.”

“That would be the same- Hang on.” She moved to the computer and unmuted her mic. “Repeat that last figure, please.” A voice on the line did so. “And that’s your forecast capital appreciation, yes?” The voice confirmed. “Well, based on the initial investment you quoted of eight-point-five-million and an appreciation rate of four-point-one-five percent over five years we are looking at the property being worth ten-point-eight or nine-million depending on inflation.” There was a pause on the line. “So, why did you just quote nine point eight?” She sighed impatiently.

“Eh, a, a, mistake, Stephanie. Apologies. I’ll make the changes?” The voice said hesitantly.

“I suggest you do. Please reschedule this meeting once you have all the facts.” And with a strike of the keyboard the CFO hung up. “Sorry, Pat. As I was saying, we are not going to use that agency again.” She continued as if there had been no interruption. “Why don’t we try-“ At that moment the straight backed figure of Abdul, the Vice President of Human Resources marched past her suite to, presumably, head into his own impressive space.

“I’ll handle this.” The CFO said by way on an explanation for striding out of the room.

Ten minutes later she returned to her office, happy to have cleared at least one small mess from the ever growing pile. It took some convincing, but she’d got herself an Executive PA. When she had broached the subject of reassigning one of the graduates to her, Abdul had looked at her like she was crazy. But with some gentle persuasion, “Think of the experience, the skills they’ll come away with after even just six months with me compared to some middle manager.” But they had a strict programme to follow to complete their two year leadership training. “What won’t they get exposure to working up here? I’m overseeing the law suit, I have a lot of visibility of the tax challenges and they’ll get to interact with clients.” Would he or she have time to do all this whilst running her ever changing diary, travel schedule and monthly reporting. “Not initially.” She had shrugged honestly. “But if these truly are the best and brightest I expect them to be able to within a couple of months.” She flashed a disarming smile at the man and he shook his head whilst agreeing to Stephanie’s plan with the caveat that the selected party would finish their two day induction and start on Thursday. “Perfect.”

 

[CarlyConners]

"Pack up and come with me, please," a familiar woman from Human Resources said, dropping an empty banker's box onto the half-her-age woman's desk. "You've been reassigned."

"But ... I just got here!" Chloe Conners responded, her eyes widened in disbelief. "She gestured to a second banker's box, this one on a nearby chair and still mostly full. "I haven't even unpacked."

"Then this won't take long," the woman said, already heading out of the cubicle sized space that had been called Chloe's new office. "Let's go."

Chloe didn't hesitate, grabbing the half dozen things she'd only just removed from the box and tossing them back inside. When she caught up with the woman at the elevator she asked, "Where we going?"

"Where are we going," the woman corrected, a statement not a question. "We are going to the 43rd floor."

The lady from HR stepped into the elevator, but Chloe just stood where she was, eyes again wide. "But that's ... that's--"

"Get in," the woman said, "And yes ... it is."

Chloe stepped cautiously into the elevator. Sure, the woman from HR had said Chloe was being sent to a new assignment, but somehow she felt as though she was being sent to her execution. She'd been with The Big Four just under a year now, first as a clerk in filing, then as an intern in the Management division. She'd gone from making minimum wage and being miserable to making nothing and being not quite as miserable.

No one got where Chloe wanted to get in a large, international company like this one by working an hourly job. Internships with management were the only way to get anywhere at all. But she'd never heard of someone jumping up to the 43rd floor without putting in at least a year or two of unpaid internship while finishing their Bachelors, then 2 to 4 years of paid internship while continuing their education into one or more Masters.

Chloe had most of that already and hadn't even reached her 23rd birthday. She was a bright, ambitious girl who had graduated high school at 17, finished her Bachelors in Business Administration at 20, and gotten her Masters In International Business at 21. She was working on her second Masters now -- this one in Sustainable International Development -- while she interned for Big Four. She hadn't been too happy with the Intern assignment she'd received, but it was better than nothing.

But this...?

As the elevator ascended, she began, "Who am I going to be--"

"Stephanie Visser," the HR lady cut in, "Chief Financial Officer."

"Whoa-a-a-a ... no ... I, um--" Chloe responded without even thinking.

The older woman gave her a sharp glance. She said with a firm tone, "It's a promotion ... to the 43rd floor. You'll be doing more work and getting more pay..."

"Yeah! 43 times more work for 43 times more pay ... but ... since I'm an unpaid intern ... let's see, 43 time zero is--"

"It's a paid position," the woman cut in just as the elevator doors opened. When Chloe asked how much it paid, the woman handed her a sheet of paper and headed out, saying, "C'mon. These people don't dawdle ... and they expect you not to dawdle as well."

As she carried her box of minimal possessions in one hand, Chloe shook the sheet of paper open with the other. It was a standard intern assignment sheet, and in the bottom where her previous one had said Unpaid Experience this one said--

"Holy shit!"

"Language," a female voice said from nearby, surprising her. She looked to her left to find a woman behind a desk that sported a name plate Patricia Warren. The woman from HR handed Patricia a sheet of paper -- Chloe presumed it was a copy of the same transfer paper in her hand -- and then turned and left without another word. Patricia pointed to a door that led to a not-as-small-as-her-last-office office and said, "Get comfortable."

And ... Patricia went back to his work without any additional assistance in making Chloe aware of her duties. Chloe walked toward the open door, seeing a slide-in-holder that contained a large plaque reading Stephanie Visser, Chief Financial Officer; as well as a small holder that was presumable for her but currently held a plaque turned backwards. She set her box on a chair and pulled the plaque out. On the other side was a piece of paper taped over a previous name.

"The last PA was gone so quickly," Patricia said from behind her, her snarky tone obvious, "that we didn't even get a chance to order her a new plate."

Chloe looked at the plaque for a moment, looked to Patricia -- who hadn't even looked up from the laptop upon which her fingertips were tapping at more than 90 words a minute -- then looked back to the piece of plastic.

"I will," she murmured to herself, taking the plaque and her box into her office. She put the box on her rather unimpressive desk and the plaque on a file cabinet, leaned back against a dead plant's pot as a reminder of the demise of her predecessors. She began to unpack, reassuring herself, "I will."

 

[Tanned_babe]

“Do you want to see her CV?” Patricia Warren panted, having to jog after the tall lean figure who was striding across the building’s impressive foyer.

“Why not.” Stephanie sighed and to her surprise a sheet of paper was thrust into her free hand. “Jesus.” She tutted, who still used paper? In the same hand as now held the resume she pulled a pair of stylish glasses, which did nothing but accentuate her striking features, from her head. Within seconds she was handing the document back to Patricia who was dutifully mimicking the CFO and tapping herself out of the security gates. “The red head who’d been assigned to Wealth Management, yes?”

“Y-yes. You know her?” The older woman had worked with Stephanie for a year now and was still getting to grips with the Dutch woman’s flawless memory.

“No.” She stated, ending that portion of the conversation. During the interview process for the company’s Future Leaders Programme final stage candidates had been given a presentation by the Leadership team. It was supposed to be motivational, look what you can be. As only one of two women in the Senior Team either Stephanie or her colleague were always wheeled out for such occasions. Ms Visser had drawn the short straw that day. There had been introductions and Stephanie had remembered Cloe, along with the other fifteen youths. “You’ll have three days to get her up to speed.” Rerouting the conversation as she opened the back door of the awaiting car. “Unlike the last trip I need to return from this one to a PA, OK?” She didn’t wait for an answer before slinking into the car’s luxurious interior and shutting the door.

******************************************

Maybe she could just buy JFK, she sighed to herself as she waited in the immigration queue; a ridiculous notion, as if she could afford it. However, of late it was the building she spent the most time in. Maybe just a terminal? “Ma’am?” She stepped forward, ready to have the same conversation she had on an at least weekly basis as she handed over her Dutch passport. Should have got an American one when she’d had the chance, especially with the latest change in administration. “What’s your reason for travel, Ma’am?” She answered business. Always business. Maybe she should take a holiday? No, not a holiday, a staycation. Enjoy her beautiful apartment, see New York, real New York, not the high class functions, dinners, hotel stays. The closest thing she got to doing that was joggi- “Thank you, Ma’am.” The officer said, shaking her from her reverie.

In the awaiting black car, Stephanie adjusted her Mont Blanc which was still on London time. The company’s headquarters were there, meaning that monthly trips were essential. Luckily, she liked the British capital; it was like New York’s older slightly more sensible sister. A bit wiser, a bit more reserved, quieter, but could still let her hair down if she wanted to.

As the car flew down Grand Central Parkway, Stephanie ignored the ever familiar scenery, turning her attention to her phone. Numerous notifications flooded the glowing screen. She pressed on the notification third from the top; an impending meeting simply named ‘Buenos Aires Catch Up.’ The invite was to her and her project team and a clearly outlined agenda detailing, give or take several points, what Stephanie needed to know. Not perfect, not by far, but it was an improvement on the last girl’s attempts.

The call concluded just as Stephanie felt the car slow up to pull into the plaza just of Madison Avenue and within ten minutes she had bought a strong black coffee, rode to the 43rd floor and was almost at her office. The top floor, like all of those in the building was large and encased in windows which stretched floor to ceiling. However unlike the majority of the other floors with their open plan desks and pitiful alcove offices the 43rd housed only ten rooms. Stepping out of the elevator one was greeted by an impressive board room to their left, before walking down a corridor. On either side of said corridor sat Suits A through H, each one the size of your average Manhattan apartment and boasting a stunning view of the New York skyline. Outside each suite was a space for the PA- a small office from where an assistant could guard his or her employer like a modern day sentry.

This is where Stephanie found Chloe, not that Ms Visser gave the impression of having found anything. She strode, long legs clade in a pair of black pants which hugged her form the way only extremely expensive material could, through the space between the corridor and her office where the girl sat. “Morning.” She said in a monotone, without looking the girl’s way, before shutting the door behind her.

An hour or so later she appeared and made her way down the corridor towards the boardroom. “Traveling light.” A senior colleague jested at reference to her being without her travel bag.

“For now.” She smirked. “Oh Pat. Excuse me, I’ll be in in two minutes.” Stephanie assured, splitting her attention between him and the older woman. “You get her up to speed?”

“Oh yes. She’s quite keen, a bit rough around the edges but seems quick enough.” Patricia shrugged.

“Hmmm. You said that about the last one.” The CFO replied, unimpressed, her attention already elsewhere as Patricia began informing her of what she’s imparted upon the intern.

For the rest of the day Stephanie Visser didn’t stop; she was in and out her office several times and when she wasn’t doing that there was a nigh on queue of visitors wanting their pound of flesh. She’s been out of New York for the best part of a month and it was showing. There were too many loose ends, too few solutions, too many gaps in the reporting. By 7 o’clock, or one AM in London time the brunette called it a day. It was dark out already, not even October and despite the balmy climate the days were growing depressingly short.

She shrugged her lean form into her coat and flicked long hair from under the collar. Stepping out of the office into the corridor, bags in tow the woman started. “What are you doing still here?” Stephanie demanded of the girl, more annoyed at herself for being so foolish. She must be tired.

The girl gave a stammered response. Stephanie was doubtful such enthusiasm would still be there in a month, her expression showing as much. “Well, go home.” She said with a touch of impatience, before shifting her expression. “Look, I’m Stephanie.” She said, exasperation still lacing her tone as she stepped forward and shook the girl’s hand, noting the reciprocated firm handshake. There may be hope for her yet. “I’m at a breakfast briefing first thing tomorrow morning but put sometime in my diary later and we’ll have a chat.”

 

[CarlyConners]

For three days, Chloe had barely left the building. She'd come to know both the morning and evening lobby teams on a first name basis after having had to explain her reasons for being there so early and late as she signed in and out. This morning when the older of them arrived, Patricia Warren came to the office she was now playfully calling her cell to inquire about her dedication and diligence. Chloe had sensed in Patricia's tone and wording some doubt as to the sincerity of her energy. But then, even after three days of closely working together, Chloe still didn't know the older woman well enough to know whether Patricia was impressed, suspicious, or apathetic.

She was in this morning particularly early. Her new boss was returning from London, and while watching the news the night before Chloe had noted that the car service they used had had a fire in one of their buildings. Sure enough, Chloe arrived to find an email waiting in her box saying that the car had been cancelled. Quickly, she arranged another car, personally made contact with the driver, and -- learning of his Greek descent -- promised him a Kleftiko from Pylos if he made sure Stephanie didn't even notice the sudden change in service.

She spent the morning working on her boss's schedule, including a meeting about Buenos Aires; responded to the more than 120 emails that had come in over the night; reorganized the mailing lists and notifications such that hopefully tomorrows emails would number less than 3 digits; and so much more.

Chloe was deep in thought about Stephanie's schedule when her phone vibrated on the desk. The notification was titled Intruder Alert, and caused Chloe to pop from her chair and turn toward the entrance to her cell.

(For three days as she'd been concentrating diligently on getting up to speed, Chloe had repeatedly been surprised by the sudden arrival of Patricia and others in the doorway to her little office. She couldn't understand why the previous PA -- or whoever had been responsible -- had placed her desk such that she couldn't see people approaching from the elevators. Chloe wasn't about to move her desk without first discussing it with her boss, and Patricia's response to the inquiry had been Discuss it with your boss. So, Chloe had done the next best thing: she'd purchased a tiny motion detector with a Bluetooth connection and placed it in the pot of the ficus tree that was currently where she hoped to eventually move her desk.)

"Morning," Stephanie said as she passed through Chloe's cell like the Germans passing through Belgium on their way to Paris in '40.

"Good morning," Chloe said simply, waiting for Stephanie to pass before she tapped away the alert and went back to work.

She still wasn't clear on how she was supposed to address her boss, and when she'd asked Patricia she'd gotten the standard response: Discuss it with your boss. Chloe's mother had come of age at a time when women's liberation and other gender issues had resulted in many women shedding the Miss and Mrs. labels in exchange for Ms. But most of Chloe's generation had in turn discarded Ms., sometimes replacing it with its predecessors but more often than not simply telling others not to use either of the prefixes. It was all about given names and specific Miss/Mrs. labels with surnames now. In her three days on the 43rd floor, Chloe had heard people refer to Stephanie as Miss, Ms., and just her first or last name.

(She'd even heard one Exec refer to her as the shark and another one with a profane word Chloe didn't even like to repeat within the recesses of her own mind. Some men just didn't couldn't live with the realization that women could do just as good a job if not a better job than they did in the upper reaches of management. Creeps.)

72 minutes later, to be precise, the sound of Stephanie's heels on the floor beyond the closed door told Chloe that her boss was approaching. Chloe didn't stand -- which would have given away her advantage of having some very sharp hearing -- but she did prepare herself and pop to as Stephanie exited her own office and entered Chloe's. She only smiled as her boss passed, knowing that if Stephanie had something she wanted to say, she'd begin the conversation.

"Oh, Pat," Chloe heard Stephanie saying after she'd had a short exchange with a male colleague in the 43rd's lobby. "You get her up to speed?"

Chloe's stomach turned over as she knew immediately that the discussion was about her. She edged closer to the door without allowing herself to be seen through the glass panel that comprised part of the wall between the lobby and her cell.

"Oh yes. She’s quite keen, a bit rough around the edges but seems quick enough." Patricia said, making Chloe smile with pride.

Then Stephanie took Chloe down a notch with, "Hmmm. You said that about the last one."

Chloe listened for Stephanie's departing steps, once again reset the intruder alert -- there was no way to set it for the incoming only visits -- and returned to her work. The rest of the day was spent working on anything thrown her way, but Chloe's greatest achievements of the day was in reducing not just her own work load but Stephanie's as well.

Chloe was amazed at the amount of ... well, it was dog doody, really ... the amount of notifications and emails and mail and ... and ... and ... that came into the office or into her computer that was deemed important enough to warrant Stephanie's attention. So much of it was duplication, too: one report on the Alaska project was the same email from the desks -- likely PAs -- of six different Executives or Field Workers.

Chloe downloaded two Applications to her tablet that took care of that in a flash. The first rerouted all of the interoffice emails to it; and the second ran a comparison between all the emails, noting the differences between them before organizing those differences neatly at the bottom, with the Executives'/Field Workers' names and departments attached to each. Now, automatically without any work on her part and just a moment of verification that all was well with the world, Chloe could review the incoming emails and organize them for Stephanie's own review.

The result was that today's 120 emails had been reduced down to 80 ... and of those, Stephanie would actually only have to review and respond to 33 of them because -- even without permission from her boss -- Chloe had been able to deal with the others on her own.

At 7pm, Stephanie emerged from her office again, this time carrying all of the things that told Chloe that her boss was calling it a day. She stopped near Chloe's desk as the latter stood and smiled to her, asking, "What are you doing still here?"

Chloe almost said slaving away but -- remembering what had been said in the lobby earlier in the day -- was about to instead respond Getting up to speed, ma'am when her intruder alert notification caused her phone to vibrate on the desk beside her. Gotta move my desk! she thought as she became self conscious and mumbled, "There, um ... the emails ... application worked well, but ... I still have..."

She drew a nervous, embarrassed breath, then finished, "So much work, so little time, ma'am."


"Well, go home," her boss told her. "Look, I’m Stephanie."

Chloe watched her boss's hand come out invitingly, and she took it, responding, "Chloe Conners. O-E, not O-O ... Conners, I mean ... C-O-N-N-..."

Chloe's spelling slowed as she realized that this was probably totally unnecessary ... and a bit silly. Yet she finished with fading volume, "...E-R ... S."

"I’m at a breakfast briefing first thing tomorrow morning," Stephanie told her, finishing, "but put sometime in my diary later and we’ll have a chat.

"Yes, ma'am," Chloe said, quickly asking as Stephanie turned to depart, "And ma'am ... what ... what do I call you...?"

After Stephanie answered that question, Chloe asked one more with a bit more hesitance as she pointed to the tall tree in the opposite corner, "And ... do you mind if I move my desk. I think it will serve us both better."

After the answer for that question, Stephanie departed. Chloe stood in the doorway of her cell watching her boss head for the elevator ... and suddenly her mind was filled with thoughts that surprised her and caused her to feel shame at those thoughts. She hadn't had the time to notice it since Stephanie's return earlier in the day ... but her boss was a very beautiful woman.

Chloe had some ... experience with other women, dating back to a cousin who taught her how to kiss, a high school classmate who introduced her to the pleasures of digital manipulation, and a college girlfriend who was responsible for her first and more unforgettable orgasms. Chloe didn't consider herself a lesbian. She'd been with men, too, which would make her bisexual, right? No. Not really. Chloe didn't like labels. Chloe was ... well, she was just Chloe.

She didn't have much time for sex, never had, which was the reason she could count her lovers on one hand and still be able to hold a mug of coffee without spilling it. But when she did have the time, it wasn't so much about fulfilling her own personal needs. Chloe enjoyed bringing joy to others. Each of the three people who she thought of as her real lovers -- one woman and two men -- had thoroughly enjoyed their encounters with Chloe, because Chloe had ensured that they had. She was dedicated in that way.

And as she watched the beautiful backside of the beautiful woman head for the elevator, then caught a moment of her shapely profile, Chloe recalled her university lover, Vicki, and how their occasional encounters in the buff had helped the other co-ed through the stress of finishing her Masters. Maybe that was what Stephanie needed: some pleasing, ecstatic, tension release.

Chloe returned to her office and laughed to herself at the absurdity of such a thought. That wasn't going to happen, of course ... Chloe and Stephanie, in the throes of ecstasy...? But it was a fun thought.



The next morning Chloe was at her desk early as usual, popping up as her boss set off the alert. The PA held out the folder of papers Stephanie needed to look over, pleased with her work in making the folder a third the thickness as it typically was; and as Stephanie continued into her office, Chloe followed, reminding her boss of the day's schedule, adding with delight, "And your email correspondence is down to 26 today."

She gave Stephanie the time needed to say what she needed to say, ask the questions she needed to ask, and give the orders she needed to give. As she did so, Chloe couldn't help but recall her fantasy the evening before, about getting naked with her boss to urge the worries of the world out of her body and mind with some gentle caress and passionate oral manipulation. She diverted her eyes as she blushed, her brain screaming within the walls of her skull Stop thinking about such things ... do your job ... if she needs the release of sex, she certainly isn't going to look for it from a PA, you silly little girl!

"One-thirty," Chloe said after Stephanie had finished with her comments, questions, and orders. When her boss gave her a confused glance, Chloe explained, "You asked me to set aside some time for the two of us to talk. You Buenos Aires conference call begins at 1:15 and should be over within ten minutes ... and your meeting with the Field Officer from the Alaska project is set for 1:30."

In a moment of understanding about how unimportant such a conversation between the Chief Financial Officer and her Personal Assistant was, Chloe finished with humility, "That should give us about 5 minutes to talk."

 

[Tanned_babe]

“One thing you don’t call me is, Ma’am.” Stephanie said irritably. Yes, she had a good couple of years, oh be realistic, the wrong side of one decade, on the girl but she wasn’t that over the hill, was she? No, of course not; the last person who tried to guess Stephanie’s age believed she was six years younger than her forty years and this was coming from a German; they are not known for false niceties.

“Do what you want with the desk. Just arrange for Facilities to move it. Last thing I need is you pulling your back on my watch.” She was already out of the room, her tall slim figure walking purposefully as she finished the terse sentence.


“Evening, Ms Visser.” The doorman smiled dutifully as Stephanie stepped out of the cab, shutting the door behind her. “Let me get your bags.” She waved the young man off, not unkindly, telling him it was fine, she’d traveled light. Instead he called the lift for her and nodded his head as she thanked him.

The burglar alarm screeched momentarily she pushed open the door of her apartment. She cursed; the cleaner must have set it incorrectly. Seconds later, the space was silent apart from the slight whirring that remained in the woman’s ears.

Her home was perfection; bright, spacious, hardwood floors throughout; the traditional had been tastefully modernised by the previous owner. There was a gym in the basement and below that a pool which she had only frequented to use the sauna and steam months ago. The only box it didn’t tick was that she was without a clear view of Central Park; even Stephanie’s budget didn’t quite stretch to that. She walked through to the large kitchen where a vase of fresh lilies had been left. Their strong perfume could have masked any smell of cookery; that was if she used the space for such. Not that she lacked culinary skills, far from it, but who wants to come home late in the evening and start cooking an elaborate meal for themselves? The room’s lack of industry was evident when she moved to the large stainless steel fridge. The appliance was pristine and the door still sucked too hard to the body, causing her arm to flex as she pulled it open.

As her figure was hit by the cool blast her dark eyes took in the dismal sight; she’d had a better stocked fridge when she was a student. However, one thing didn’t change, well apart from the quality and with a reminiscent smirk Stephanie retrieved a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

Minutes later she was flicking through the pile of mail that had been left beside the flowers. Nothing of great importance, well, not strictly true, but she didn’t have the headspace for what had arrived. Leaving the letters on the counter she moved through the apartment into her bedroom; a beautiful room which was as elegant as it was tasteful. Off white tones of cool grey contrasted with the warm glow of the city lights which stretched as far as the eye could see. She liked being able to see the Empire State Building from here; something of a prestige. The woman kicked off her heels, stepping down to a more natural five eight and walked to the window.

She let time slip by; savouring the good wine a she lost herself. It was good to let go, empty her busy mind. Of course, it didn’t last long. The phone in her back pocket vibrated and she sighed, retrieving the device. Holding the lock button before sliding her thumb across the beckoning display the device died. Tossing it on the bed she turned back to the view, only breaking away from it to refill her glass and, using all her will power, unpack.

Despite falling asleep relatively early, Stephanie felt somewhat disorientated as she sipped an espresso. The briefing, held at a competitor’s office, looked at how Financial Services can utilise technology and data more efficiently. Data was hot just now, there were numerous projects going on at Big Four, however they were moving slowly. She made a note to set up sometime with the relevant individuals, or rather have Chloe set it up. Stephanie hadn’t given the girl a second thought since there encounter and she had no plans to change that, not until she’d proved herself. The CFO was fair; firm but just. However she’d no time or patience to invest resources in the girl until she’d earned her salt.

By late morning the tall brunette was walking that ever familiar corridor, her black coat billowing slightly as she strode to reveal a tan coloured turtle neck which hugged her waist and swell of her chest. Typically employees dressed down on Friday and as Stephanie had no client meetings following the breakfast she’d donned a pair of black jeans of the same tight cut she’d worn yesterday.

Pushing open the door of Suite C Stephanie’s dark eyes trailed over her assistant as she accepted the file. Moving into the body of the impressive space Stephanie sat her black leather handbag bag on the the mid century style sofa and shrugged off her coat. “What’s this?” She said gesturing to the file she’d been handed, eyes glued to the now illuminated screen, “I mean aside a waste of trees?”

Stephanie sat down on the chair and allowed the girl to prattle on about her work schedule, as if she was ever very far from some bloody device that wouldn’t tell her where she needed to be. Serendipitously, phone, desktop and a tablet chimed, reminding her of an impending meeting. Looking at the reminder she asked, ”And how did you get my email count down?” A hint of suspicion in her voice. The girl answered and although Stephanie was vaguely impressed, the woman was enthused by anything that streamlined a process, she couldn’t afford to miss anything important. She voiced this concern and proceeded to grill the girl; “How can you be sure there’s nothing I need to see getting marked as junk? You’ll need to double check, but I’m not sure you know what’s critical and what’s not.” Answering her own question, she muttered, “Well, I dare say you’re not stupid?” Attention already diverted to another subject.



“One thirty […] That should give us about 5 minutes to talk.”

“Yes, I’m aware that’ll give us five minutes.” She snapped, “Do you think you’re going to be able to take in everything I need to tell you in five minutes? Because, if so,” She raised a neat eyebrow, “You can probably have this chair right now.” She locked a stare onto the girl and watched her squirm before putting her out her misery.

“Come round here.” She said in a softer tone and wheeled her chair to the left slightly. She caught the girl looking at the view as Chloe made her way round to behind Stephanie’s desk so they could both look at her monitor. “Pretty good isn’t it?” The older woman smirked.

“Now.” Neatly manicured fingers danced across the screen. “This appointment here, Buenos Aires, that’s a critical law suit we’ve got going on and the catch up, as much as it frustrates me, needs to be longer; thirty minutes, maybe forty-five to be sure. In fact, if you’re free come along and you can start to get up to speed on it. Decline this and ask to be sent a copy of the minutes.” She pointed at an appointment later in the day. “Put Buenos Aires in later so that’ll give us more time. Decline that and move this here.” She pointed to other appointments. “And make sure O’Connor turns up to this meeting.”

“So that’s left us with a space here, one to two.” And with that she shooed the young woman out of the room, glancing at her as she exited.

A couple of hours later and the CFO returned to her Suite. “You ready?” She said to the redhead who, for some reason always seemed to be standing when she entered the space. “Good. C’mon.” And with that the two women reentered the office.

“You settling in alright?” The tall brunette enquired, more because it was the polite thing to do rather than anything else.

“Good.” She said in response to the girl. “Anyway, ground rules.” Her eyes locked on the green of Chloe’s. “You’re not an Executive Assistant, well, you are for now, but I mean you’ve had no formal training. So let’s start at the basics; we are not in the 80s, Chloe. You may want to call me something different behind my back,” A hint of a smile drifting across her face, “But please call me Stephanie. Also,” She continued, “I don’t need daily run throughs of what my day looks like, chances are it’ll look completely different by lunch time.”

“You seem pretty hot on your technology, but I need you to make sure nothing is missed if you’re going to clear out my calendar and emails so thoroughly. However, I do like your thought process.” She went into her desk drawer and retrieved a smart phone and large tablet , the white boxes still wrapped in cellophane. “These should make your life a bit easier. Sync them up so your notes come straight to me and vice vera.”

“As I said, I want you learn about the key challenges I’ve got going on; we are being sued by a large client in Argentina, we have a huge tax exposure from mismanagement of people we sent from the US into Canada years ago- it’s a total mess.” She pinched the bridge of her nose momentarily. “And month end is always a challenge. You can block out your diary for the last week and first few days of every month.”

Stephanie gave her a list of names of personnel involved in the key activities she’d just listed. “Go speak to them, face to face. Tell them what you’re doing and get an overview of things. If you have any issues, remind them who you work for."

Stephanie went on to detail her typical travel schedule, “That needs to be water tight, I don’t have time to miss flights or cars. You understand?”

Not giving her PA a lot of time to take everything in she continued, “In addition to the travel we have the countless invites to functions, conferences, panels, dinners, you name it, people seem to feel the need to invite me.” She sounded genuinely displeased by this. “Alas, it can look very bad if the company isn’t represented. Work closely with the other assistants on this floor and, when I’m not formally requested, make sure you all rotate who attends.”

The CFO gave the girl a moment to process what had been instructed before concluding in s firm but fair tone. “It’ll be hard work Chloe. In fact, it’ll be downright shit at times- the long hours, limited guidance but you make my life easier and it’ll hold you in good stead for the future. Understood?” She finished with a meaningful gaze.

 

[CarlyConners]

Chloe listened to the combination of compliments, concerns, and soft warnings coming from her boss. She gave explanations when they seemed warranted, but for the most part her answers were variations of the respectful Yes, ma'am ... but without the ma'am.

“Well, I dare say you’re not stupid?” Stephanie told her at one point.

Chloe smiled and said with just a hint of humor, "Thank you, ... I think."

Then Stephanie asked about their 1:30 get-together. “Do you think you’re going to be able to take in everything I need to tell you in five minutes?"

"Of course not," Chloe responded, quickly but respectfully. "I simply know you have better things on which to spend your time than getting me up to speed."

Her explanation seemed to go over well enough as Stephanie continued with what she had to say or show Chloe, demanding, “Come round here.”

They went over the Buenos Aires situation, moved some appointments and calls around, talked about her coworkers and other underlings, and more. Chloe went back to her desk to complete her tasks as Stephanie headed out into the building to do hers as well. During this time, Facilities Management sent two men up to both move Chloe's desk and reroute the various cables for the still-hardwired office equipment.

Right on schedule, the CFO returned to her suite asking Chloe, “You ready?”

They entered Stephanie's office again, and the superior ran through the ground rules of their working relationship. It was all pretty much normal and expected, though Chloe was surprised -- and also pleased -- that Stephanie insisted she be addressed by her given name. When the boss gave her a new smart phone and tablet, Chloe assured her that they'd be up, running, and synced before day's end.

They spent far more than the allotted 5 minutes discussing a range of topics. Chloe was very impressed with Stephanie's rundown of her own responsibilities and those that Chloe would have as a consequence.

“It’ll be hard work Chloe," Stephanie finished. "In fact, it’ll be downright shit at times- the long hours, limited guidance but you make my life easier and it’ll hold you in good stead for the future. Understood?”

"Understood," Chloe responded simply. She asked if there was anything more, and when told no, she returned to her cell and went to work. She was still working diligently at the list of tasks when Stephanie exited, finally done with her own day. Chloe stood and offered out an index card upon which were scribbled some names, addresses, and times. "I know some people ... hostesses, maitre d's, and the like ... and seeing that your evening schedule was open, I made some dinner reservations ... you know, if you're hungry and don't want to cook or eat take out. If not, I can cancel them. I just thought ... well, there's nothing I like more than a nice dinner that I didn't have to cook myself, so..."