5: New Employment Terms
1826 Words
The email comes through at 11:47 PM on Saturday night while I’m lying in bed staring at my ceiling and wondering if I just made the biggest mistake of my life.
The subject line just says “Employment Terms” and when I open it my heart starts pounding because this is real now, this is actually happening.
Ms. Astrid Voss,
Effective immediately, the following terms will apply to your continued employment at Lunar Corp:
Position: Executive Assistant to the Chief Executive Officer
Annual Salary: $85,000 (per your request)
Office Location: Suite 4501, adjacent to executive office, 45th floor
Working Hours: 8:00 AM to 6:00 PM, Monday through Friday (no unpaid overtime will be required or permitted)
Benefits Package: Four weeks paid time off annually, company mobile device, parking validation, access to executive dining facilities
Reporting Structure: You will report directly to the CEO and will no longer be assigned to the Creative Department or any supervisory personnel therein.
This position requires absolute confidentiality, unwavering professionalism, and complete discretion regarding all matters pertaining to executive operations.
Please confirm acceptance of these terms by 9:00 AM Pacific Standard Time on Monday, November 12, or consider this correspondence your formal termination notice.
Regards,
Rhys Blackwood
Chief Executive Officer
Lunar Corp
I read it once and my brain gets stuck on “Executive Assistant to the Chief Executive Officer” because that’s not what I asked for, that’s not even close to what I asked for.
I read it again and I’m getting angrier with each line because I asked for for my own projects, control and a promotion in the field I actually studied for, and instead he’s making me his personal secretary which means I’ll be answering phones and scheduling meetings and probably fetching his dry cleaning.
Executive Assistant means I’m with him every single day, all day, sitting in that glass office right outside his door where he can watch my every move and control everything I do, and this was his plan all along, wasn’t it, to take my blackmail and twist it into something that keeps me exactly where he wants me.
But then my eyes go back to that salary number and I stare at it for a long time.
Eighty-five thousand dollars.
I open my banking app even though I already know what it says because I checked it three times today, and the numbe stares back at me like a joke.
Rent is due Friday, five days from now, and it’s over a thousand dollar which means I’m hundreds short, I was going to have to ask HR for an advance on my next paycheck which would mean admitting I’m broke again which would mean another lecture from Karen about financial responsibility even though Karen makes $95,000 a year and doesn’t have student loans hanging over her head.
I think about Vanessa sitting in my apartment last night, reading my grad school rejection letter out loud like it was funny, telling me I’d be stuck at my shithole job forever because I’m not smart enough and I definitely don’t have the money.
I think about Patricia’s house with its perfect white furniture and the guest room that used to be mine, and how she’d smile that tight smile if I had to move back and tell me how she always knew I couldn’t make it on my own.
I think about my shithole of an apartment.
I didn’t hesitate. I open a new email and I type four words before I can change my mind.
I accept. - AV
I hit send at then I turn off my phone and pull the covers over my head and try to sleep.
-----
Sunday passes in a blur of anxiety and laundry, and I spend three hours at the laundromat on the corner watching my clothes spin in circles while I try to figure out what the hell an executive assistant is even supposed to wear.
I buy groceries on the way home, which is just ramen and eggs and the cheapest bread they have because that’s all I can afford until my first paycheck with the new salary, and I try not to think about how Rhys probably spends more on a single dinner than I spend on food in a month.
I lay out five different outfits on my bed Sunday night and I hate all of them, but eventually I settle on black pants and a cream blouse that I bought two years ago for job interviews, and I set my alarm for 6:30 AM even though I know I won’t sleep.
Monday morning my alarm goes off and I’ve been awake for an hour already, staring at my ceiling and mentally preparing myself for whatever fresh hell this day is going to bring.
I’m in the shower when my phone rings at 7:15 and I almost don’t answer but then I see it’s an unknown number and my anxiety spikes because what if it’s Rhys calling to tell me he changed his mind.
“Hello?” I answer with shampoo still in my hair.
“Ms. Voss, this is James from Lunar Corp executive transport services.” The voice is professional and neutral. “I’ll be arriving at your building at 7:45 to drive you to the office.”
“Oh, um, okay, thank you—” I start but he’s already hung up.
I stand there dripping water all over my bathroom floor and I think he sent a driver, he actually sent a driver, this is really happening.
I’m ready by 7:40 and I’m standing at my window watching the street below when the black town car pulls up at exactly 7:45.
The driver opens the back door for me and says “Good morning, Ms. Voss” like we’re old friends, and I slide into the leather interior and try not to feel like I’m being transported to my own execution.
The drive takes twenty minutes and I spend the whole time staring out the window and trying not to think about the fact that everyone at work is going to think I slept my way into this promotion, and when we pull up to Lunar Corp the driver doesn’t go to the main entrance.
“Executive entrance,” he explains and hands me a key card. “You’ll need this for the elevator and the parking garage. Mr. Blackwood wanted you to have it before your first day.”
I take the black plastic card with my name already printed on it, and I realize he had this made over the weekend which means he was sure I’d accept.
The executive entrance is on the side of the building and I’ve walked past it probably a thousand times without ever really noticing it, and there’s a security guard who nods at me and says “Good morning, Ms. Voss, welcome to executive level” which means he’s been briefed on exactly who I am.
The elevator is completely different from the regular ones, it has wood paneling, soft lighting and classical music playing quietly, and I swipe my key card and the doors slide open and I step inside.
I press 45 and watch the numbers climb and I’m trying to steady my breathing when the elevator stops on 42 and the doors open and Rhys steps in.
He’s wearing an expensive looking charcoal suit and smells like expensive cologne when he glances at me and his expression doesn’t change at all.
“Good morning, Mr. Blackwood.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
“Ms. Voss.” His voice is neutral. “Good morning.”
The elevator doors close and we’re standing there in this small enclosed space and the tension is so thick I can barely breathe, and he’s just staring straight ahead at the doors like I’m not even here.
The elevator climbs and I’m counting floors in my head, 43, 44, and then it stops on 45 and I move to step out but he speaks.
“Before you start today there’s something we need to address.”
I turn back and he’s pulling a folder from his briefcase.
“Non-disclosure agreement, you’ll need to sign it before you officially begin.”
“That wasn’t in the contract you sent—”
“It’s standard for anyone working at executive level.” He opens the folder and holds it out to me. “Sign it now or the employment offer is rescinded.”
“You can’t just spring new terms on me—”
“I can and I am, Ms. Voss, this is non-negotiable.” His eyes meet mine and there’s something in them that makes me remember he’s not just my boss. “Sign it or leave.”
I take the folder because what choice do I have, and I start reading through it quickl until I get to page three where there’s a clause about “matters of a sensitive personal nature regarding the CEO including but not limited to genetic conditions, medical information, and lifestyle factors.”
“Genetic conditions,” I say and I look up at him. “You mean what happened in your office.”
“I mean anything you might see or hear while working for me stays confidential.” His voice drops lower. “Including conversations we had at my apartment Saturday morning, including anything related to what you think you saw in my office Friday night, do you understand?”
“But—”
“You can’t tell anyone anything, Ms. Voss, that’s what confidential means.” He’s watching me carefully. “Sign it or we’re done here, you have ten seconds to decide.”
“This isn’t fair—”
“Ten, nine, eight—”
“I agreed to the terms you sent me, not this—”
“Seven, six, five—”
“Fine!” I grab the pen clipped to the folder and I sign my name at the bottom because I’m trapped and we both know it. “There, happy?”
“Thrilled.” He takes the folder back and tucks it into his briefcase. “Now, about this whole mate situation—”
The elevator doors start to close and he puts his hand out to stop them, and he looks at me with an expression I can’t read.
“We’ll discuss personal matters at an appropriate time, during work hours we maintain professional boundaries, is that clear?”
“You can’t just refuse to explain—”
“I can and I will.” The doors slide open fully. “Your office is to the right, I’ll expect you at your desk in five minutes.”
He steps out and walks away without looking back, and I stand there in the elevator with my hands clenched into fists until the doors start to close again and I have to jump out.
- Writer
