The Executive Deception

CHAPTERTWO

The Chairman's office was.... I still can't find a compound word that holds volume enough to describe what the office looked like. One thing I recall vividly though is that upon stepping my foot in there, I had immediately criticized its unusual spaciousness. It didn't feel like an office at all, and the whole aesthetic setup, was convincing enough to make you believe that you were in someone's living room- well, apart from the extra-large portrait of the Chairman- as he was called- that hung on the wall; It was positioned directly opposite his desk, and I immediately concluded it was for the purpose of self-gratification. "He's definitely obsessed with himself", I thought.

I was so deeply involved in my analysis, that I completely lost my composure in the process.

"Ahem", he cleared his throat, rolling his eyes in the direction of the seat at the opposite end of his desk. He wore a stern look, his face emotionless.

After I was seated, he began; "As you are probably aware of, I'm James Clint...."

I sighed and swallowed hard. "It is what it is", I thought to myself.

"Why do you think you're eligible for the position of being my secretary?" James Clint asked, raising an eyebrow; his face as blank as it had been from the onset of the interview. He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile of satisfaction forming across his face. One that didn’t fail to conceal his contentment, like a predator who had finally managed to trap his prey. At this point, it was more or less my word against mine. I was given the opportunity many people pray for, but for me, it was more of a curse than it was a blessing - this he knew undoubtedly well. I was all the more surprised, because I had applied for a position in the project management team; but here he was, asking questions regarding the position of a personal assistant. "Did my application get swapped by mistake? What exactly is going on?" These were the questions running through my mind.

"But I applied for...."

"Just answer the damn question", he cut in, without allowing me to finish.

What was I to say? Where was I to start from? My life had been a tough one, molding me substantially into the woman- or if I must say, the lady I had become. I was the only-begotten of my mother, who tragically lost herself to the cold embrace of death, during the birth of my younger brother. The child didn't survive either, so that made it just me. It was all still not so bad, at least not until my dad decided to remarry, despite my expressed disinterest in the idea.

With the new woman around, my dad quickly forgot about his dead wife, tossing her memory into the darkest depths of the infinite void of his mind, never to be brought to remembrance. But not for me. I couldn't just forget my mother, not after all we had been through together. Gradually, I let my grief take the better of me, sinking deeper and deeper in despair; hating my father all the more in the process. Nonetheless, my hatred was justifiable; after all, he had started to neglect my existence. He provided my basic needs alright, but the one thing I was never able to receive from him was fatherly love; not in the least measure.

My slightest act of disagreement would result in him leaving nicely designed imprints of his palm and fingerprints on my face; my cheeks burning from the insides, like they had been injected with chili-infused syrup. I would curl up on my bed to soliloquize, sobbing and questioning the essence of life. Questions I knew no one had the answers to; and even if someone did, that person definitely wasn't me. I never voiced out, but till this day, I hold the strong opinion that my stepmom was behind it all. The contaminant. A thorn in my flesh - our flesh, I mean; entering into our lives and pulling everything apart into shreds. It could be no one else but her; poisoning the mind of my father towards me, her poison growing potent with each passing day. Nevertheless, I was utterly disappointed with my father. How could he have allowed her to come between father and child? Like a virus; seeming potentially harmless when outside its host, but causing complete destruction once allowed in.

It didn't take long to realize that school was my only escape, so I made sure to get good grades and get into college. Luck shone in my favor, as I managed to secure a scholarship to study at Harvard. Now, I wouldn't want to bore you with all the events that unfolded at Harvard, so I'll just stick to those that are of interest at the moment. All there is to know is that my dissociative personality followed me all the way there- to my surprise. You know what they say about our childhood playing a major role in who we become in the future? That was exactly what happened in my case. I had spent most of my life under the dim shadow of my father and stepmother; so much so that it became a part of me. Without realizing it, I had become a projection of my prior encounters.

Things changed when I met Sarah, who turned out later to be my best friend. She had a different perception of life, and at the time of our meeting, little did I know that she would turn out to be my only hope of redemption.

"You can't continue living like this; isolating and locking up your heart to everyone", she would lecture. I remember her voice so clearly, like it had been yesterday. Her constant long lectures were like acid, slowly melting away the concrete wall that barricaded my heart.

As you may have guessed already, I hadn't sent in my application out of my own free will; she had spearheaded the whole process. Funny enough, my lack of interest wasn't because I didn't need a job: my rent was long overdue, light bills piled up, and my homeowner wouldn't stop reminding me about how worthless I was. I just.... didn't care- I pretended not to. After losing my previous job, I lost my touch with the world. Forget the world, I lost touch with myself.

"Amber, just take a look at how things are going with you", she had said, after visiting one hot afternoon.

"It’s been a month since you lost your job, and you've just decided not to look again." She paused, waiting to see if I had any defense to put up. I didn't, so she continued.

"My elder brother works at Johas Inc., so I begged him to help get you fixed in."

I wasn't surprised. Sarah was born into a wealthy family; she had all the things I could never get while growing up- affluence, caring siblings, supportive parents... just name it. Her decision to table my case to her elder brother was unexpected though.

"What?? You'll do that for me?" I asked, a surprised look drawn across my face. "That won't be necessary though. You don't have to keep helping me; I think I can manage."

"There'll be no need for you to manage, not while I'm here. You're getting that job, and that’s it." She frowned playfully at the end to indicate her seriousness. We kept dragging the issue, after which I succumbed, seeing that my hesitation made no difference whatsoever.

In the end, we drafted out my application together, I tendered it in, and here I am. But I couldn't say all this to James Clint, so I did what anybody in my shoes would. Flattery; a befitting reply to a question of such caliber.

I looked up at him, gave a sly smile and said, "Because working under you would be an honor. An honor far greater than any other."

"Get ready, we have a meeting to attend in five minutes", he said, springing up from his seat, and heading towards the door.

Surprised, I followed after him, clueless as to whether I had gotten the job or not. Heaven knows I meant none of the words that had come out of my mouth; but I think it worked!