THE JULIEN PROJECT

11

Driiiiiiiiing! Driiiiiiiing!

All the girls are at work, the phones are ringing everywhere. Emilia is in my office, her head plunged into the URGENT file and the phone glued to her ear. She gives me an incendiary look when she sees me walking at the pace of a sloth. Paul is at his post, frantically typing on his computer as his cell phone is wedged between his ear and shoulder. He gives me a thumbs up when he sees me.

Emilia places her hand on the receiver and glares at me:

“What the hell were you doing! It’s the opening of the Stock Exchange and you disappear! It’s not for me to do your job, Warner is furious!”

I don’t understand a word of what she’s saying. I don’t know who Warner is. Still, I snatch the receiver from her hands, sure of myself, more motivated than ever!

“Julien, I’m listening! (…) Ah… Mr Warner! How are you doing? (…) I can reassure you right away, we’re on the spot! The US Federal Reserve’s monetary policy is favourable. (…) At the close, that’s it! (…) Mmm mmm. (…) Listen, Mr Warner, since we’ve been working together, your assets have doubled or even almost tripled, I think you can only be satisfied with my work, or rather with our work,” I say winking an eye in the direction of Emilia. “(…) I like that better! (…) Very well, I’ll keep you posted. (…) Sure! (…) To you as well! And hello to Mrs Warner!”

Emilia stares at me, half fascinated, half annoyed.

“That’s all?”

“What do you mean, is that all?”

“That brute is on the verge of insulting me when he eats out of your hand! It’s annoying anyway! Admit it!”

“It’s called talent! So, my little Emilia, didn’t we have something to do at nine o’clock sharp?”

Emilia seems even more upset. Seeing peony red, in this very advanced state of stress, not at all appropriate for Monday morning, I see myself again, me, Julie, under the orders of the horrible Paul, sexy yes, talented certainly, but so odious with me daily that I would put his eyes out right away to avenge all the mistreated fairer s*x, belittled by their dictator bosses!

“Hey, oh, Julien! But where were you just then?”

“Oh, sorry! I was thinking. Sorry. Where were we?”

“Warner, talent, the Stock Exchange, our meeting… I have to talk to you, Julien!” she said as she closed the door.

“So, we can talk now! What did you want to say to me?”

Emilia hesitates. She finds it difficult to look me in the face, hunched over more and more. I could almost see the negative waves evaporate little by little and give way to admiration.

“Uh... Nothing. It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you sure? It sounded important. I don’t want you to carry resentment or anything negative inside of you. We work as a team, it’s important that you feel good in the part you play here? Without you, I wouldn’t be much!” I said, looking at Paul through the window. “How old are you?”

She stares at me, a little stunned, her eyes shining as if her gaze on me had changed just listening to these few innocuous sentences.

“You have… Well, you already have all this information… It was you, well you who recruited me for my end-of-studies internship, a few months ago…”

“I’m having trouble with some numbers, sorry.”

“I’m twenty-two years old.”

“Twenty-two years old… and you’re already so bright!”

Emilia’s stress and anger change into a rosy complexion, her features are visibly relaxed. She seems relieved.

“You… well you… are you sincere when you say that? Because… In eight months, this is the first time that you, well, that you say something nice to me, so allow me to doubt it a little anyway…”

“Well, everything has to start somewhere! I suggest we start all over again, okay?”

It won’t be too difficult for me since it’s my first professional day in the skin of a man. Emilia is delighted, her shoulders return to their natural place, her posture regains the grace of a ballet dancer, and her eyes shine with new motivation. This girl needed recognition and those few sentences were enough to put her back on the path to confidence and self-esteem. If only Julie had had the right to such a speech from her managers, she, well me, I wouldn’t be where I am today, a sales assistant at the age of thirty under the orders of a workaholic, executioner of hearts!

Emilia watches me, tender and grateful, while I was still lost in my double thoughts, from a male and female point of view.

“Maybe a coffee would make you happy?” she asks me.

“Only if you have one with me!”

“But we can’t leave our posts, Monday morning, it doesn’t stop!”

“Hey, who’s the boss here?” I said, already standing, patting the little plexiglass plate on my door.

“In that case, it’ll be with pleasure, but I only drink tea,” she said enthusiastically.

“I’ll go for tea then, anyway, I already had my dose of coffee this morning,” I said, thinking back to the incidents with Paul and the result in the parking lot.

The phone starts ringing again, but I signal Emilia to leave it.

“Carlotta and Jessica will answer. Huh, girls, we’re off for a few minutes, you take our lines, okay?”

Emilia is jubilant and I’m very proud to be able to play boss with these two.

When we leave the office to go to the break room, all eyes are on us. If I have the reputation of being a Don Juan, they must imagine that I’m going to go and jump Emilia in a corner. They don’t know who they are dealing with. To be honest, I’m the first one not to know that, but I’m rather proud to change the way people look at Julien a little. What if he’s a good guy? I mean… what if I was a good guy?