Julian

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

I WATCHED AS the plane passed over the lush green Columbia Gorge, and a shiver of excitement ran down my spine. Atabey Industries. I had been offered my dream job after finding out they had selected my resume from a shortlist for an interview. It was rushed at the last minute because the CEO’s former executive assistant had taken emergency medical leave.

I wouldn’t miss my previous placement at CalWitton Pharmaceuticals. My employment contract had lapsed the month before, and HR hadn’t gotten around to having me sign another. That left me free to give notice and make the quick move north from L.A. to Portland, Oregon. I wasn’t that familiar with the Pacific Northwest, but I knew it rained a lot.

It would be worth it not to be at Robert Witton’s lascivious beck and call. The reigning king of his father’s pharmaceutical company, Robert had a god complex and the patriarchal idea that every woman existed to serve him. While it was a lucrative position that looked fantastic on my resume, I felt my MBA was wasted on my constant avoidance of his lecherous hands and speech that would get any other employee fired for harassment. I breathed a sigh of relief and adjusted in my seat as the seatbelt sign lit up and the pilot announced our final descent into PDX.

***

I WALKED UP the street from the MAX transit line, gawking a bit at the historical brick-laden buildings interspersed with modern design. Portland was unique, and I paused to snap a few artistic selfies since I was running ahead of schedule. My navy pencil skirt and blazer made the photos look somewhat cold, but it was already a grey fall day. I shivered a bit and wished I’d thought of packing a warmer jacket. The wind gusted between the buildings and I pushed my perfectly highlighted blond hair out of my face. The soft waves I’d curled with a wand and set with hairspray were in danger of turning into a rat’s nest. Nobody had mentioned the wind.

Bracing myself, I made my way toward the modern office high-rise up the block. Atabey Industries took up a couple of floors of the building, sharing it with a law firm and some kind of tech company. While the outside was sleek and grey, the interior had industrial wood-type flooring and real plants strategically placed around the ground floor. A cool blue-grey color covered the walls, creating a background for framed paintings from local artists. In the foyer, a semi-circular reception desk with a woman and two security guards greeted me. To the left was a coffee shop with seating and elevators, the right side featuring a gym for use by the employees of the building’s companies.

“Good morning!” The cheery woman greeted. “Can I help direct you?”

I returned her smile and responded, “I’m headed to Atabey Industries, but I think I know where I’m going.”

“Perfect! Just head straight back to the elevators on your left. Have a nice day.” Her personality was so bubbly, not at all like some who sit at reception and whittle away the day on their phones. She clearly loved interacting with everybody who came through the doors and seemed to know many of them. I could hear her chirping hellos to others behind me as I moved past the desk.

It was a step up from the atmosphere at the pharmaceutical company, and rather than the harried and stressed appearance of my previous coworkers, most people mingling appeared relaxed and at home. They chatted freely, and even those hurrying toward the elevators took time to call out their hellos and wave to friends.

Having come prepared with my own coffee, I made my way to the elevator bank and looked at the business listings on the wall. Atabey Industries occupied the top three floors of the 20-story building. The welcome packet former executive assistant Tori had sent via email instructed me to head to the executive offices’ top floor. Another person in front of me pressed the up button, so I stepped back and watched to see which of the arrows next to the three elevators would light up first.

The up arrow on the far right elevator lit up green, and those who were waiting moved toward it as a few people walked out the opening doors. A couple of people smiled at me as I strode in, and I returned the smiles but didn’t start up any conversation. I was both anxious and excited as I watched the numbers above the door climb. By the time the digital screen displayed 20, I was the only one on the elevator.

The doors opened into a glass vestibule with a keypad and card scanner. I entered the code included in my welcome packet and stepped through the glass door into a cozy reception area. On my right was a sleek stainless steel reception desk in front of a charcoal grey wall with Atabey Industries across it in red. Hallways branched off in both directions, and in front of me was a communal work area with couches, chairs, and tables. A small coffee bar sat off to the side, and behind it was a kitchen. Everything was sleek, modern, and in shades of red, grey, and black. Black and white framed photographs with pops of red were strategically placed along the walls. Even the small plants and succulents around the room were green and red.

“Good morning, welcome to Atabey Industries,” a well-dressed woman said as she stood from her seat behind the reception desk. Her chocolate brown hair was swept back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and her red-framed glasses, along with the simple black winged liner, made her warm brown eyes pop. Her lips were a muted nude color, and she wore a red long-sleeved blouse tucked into a sleek grey pencil skirt. I began to feel like my wardrobe might be inadequate for the company, even though I had only been told to wear business attire per company policy. My simpler style didn’t match her all-out perfection.

I must have stared for a moment too long because the woman continued, “I’m Shannon, executive secretary. You must be Luna?”

Her inquiry snapped me out of my stupor. “Yes, Luna Stone. I’m supposed to meet with Gabriel Rivera for the Executive Assistant position.”

Shannon reached toward the phone sitting on her desk. Her nails matched her blouse and glasses. “Sure thing. I’ll just let Mr. Rivera know you’re here. Have a seat in the lounge area, and he should be out to get you shortly. Feel free to help yourself to coffee or refreshments.”

I nodded my thanks and moved past her desk as she spoke briefly into the phone before placing it back on the receiver and returning to her seat to tap something out on her keyboard.

Too nervous to eat, I passed the coffee bar and breakfast foods artfully arranged on a small island that matched the reception desk and took a seat on a plush black leather chair next to a matching couch. I set my shoulder bag on the coffee table in front of me, which looked to be made out of a cut from a tree trunk, the rings visible under the highly glossed top. I stopped short of running my fingers over the varied patterns in the wood and busied myself looking around the area, a bit in awe of the space. The walls in the lounge area were a lighter grey, and the windows at the end provided brilliant natural light and a spectacular view of downtown Portland and the waterfront.

I tapped my neatly filed, unpainted nails on my thigh and tried to reassure myself that I wouldn’t have landed this job had I not been the most qualified candidate. Taking a couple of centering breaths that my mom always insisted made everything better helped my body begin to relax until I heard footsteps behind me. I turned my head to see one of the most beautiful men I’d had the pleasure of being around and froze.

“Ms. Stone!” He greeted me jovially. The man’s voice was accented, smooth and deep. “I’m Gabriel Rivera. It’s great to meet you in person finally. Welcome to Atabey Industries.”

I blinked and took the outstretched hand he offered. His grip was firm as he engulfed my small hand in his much larger palm. It was really unfair how handsome he was. Dark curls framed his tanned face, and his deep brown eyes had laugh lines as he smiled down at me. High cheekbones and a square jaw with a touch of stubble added to the effect, but the most prevalent feature was his mouth- white teeth surrounded by full lips curved into a slightly smirking smile.

“Thank you for hiring me, Mr. Rivera.” I found my voice and was glad the tremulous sensation I felt in my stomach didn’t project out of my mouth. “I look forward to working under your brother.”

He let out a small chuckle, and my eyes widened as I realized what I had just said. This wasn’t good.

“As his executive assistant,” I clarified. That only made him chuckle again and shake his head as he smiled.

“I understood you,” he replied. “We’ve got a pretty packed week of training to prepare you for Julian. Today Dana, head of HR, will onboard you, get all the paperwork and such finished. Tomorrow, we start right in with training. Tori will be joining us via video call since she’s worked for Julian for the past five years.”

Gabriel motioned toward the hall opposite the reception desk and headed in that direction. I grabbed my bag, quickly hiking it over my shoulder and following in his wake. I’d already put my foot in my mouth. It couldn’t get much worse.

***

DANA WAS A straight-to-the-point kind of person. She greeted me with a pile of paperwork to sign off on and the company’s book- yes, book- of policies and procedures.

“Let’s get to work, shall we?” She started off after Gabriel made introductions and left me in her very capable hands.

“Is this all- ”

“Yes, everything you need to read and initial or sign is in these binders.” She interrupted me in a monotone voice.

She opened the first binder, and the top form was the company’s nondisclosure agreement. I would be privy to information only Mr. Rivera would hear, and likely everything that he shared with others as well. Every company had to protect its proprietary information. She wouldn’t even hand me the policies and procedures until I had initialed and signed on half a dozen forms that often repeated the need to keep company information within the company.

It was understandable, given they were the largest marketing agency in the country, perhaps the world. Julian Rivera hadn’t fought his way to the top by giving away all of the information that was hidden inside his brilliant mind. I couldn’t wait to see that mind at work firsthand. I had binged on information after the job offer, but everybody in business knew who the Rivera brothers were and the empire they had built together. Julian’s books on marketing had revolutionized the industry, and together the brothers’ areas of expertise made up the powerhouse that was Atabey Industries.

By the time lunch rolled around, I had the impression Dana wasn’t thrilled to be in charge of onboarding herself. She made it clear that she would have passed it on to somebody under her in the HR department under normal circumstances. She remained cordial but short with me during our time together, not making any effort to get to know me better. After getting no response to a couple of mildly personal questions about her family life and what she liked to do in her free time, I gave up.

After signing forms until my wrist hurt and starting on the policies and procedures in the morning, I spent the afternoon finishing the small novel of instructions and moved on to the tour of the executive floor.

“There are eight executives and their respective assistants on this floor,” Dana explained haughtily, clearly proud of her position over them. She waved dismissively, “Here we have reception- Shannon will do whatever you tell her to.”

She marched me back up to the reception desk, where Shannon gave me a little nod and clearly stifled a laugh at Dana’s arrogance. I think I was going to like her just fine.

“This is the kitchen, dining, and lounge area.” Dana continued. “Employees on the executive level have access to the food brought in fresh daily and refreshments in the fridge. And coffee, of course. If there’s anything you want that you don’t see or you have special dietary restrictions, let Shannon know, and she’ll make it work.”

We turned and walked back down the hallway we had come from, and she first pointed out bathrooms on the left before turning right and showing the glass-walled offices as we passed. The larger offices for the executives were on the left, with cityscape views, and on the right were the assistants’ offices and conference room. This side of the building housed the heads of HR, IT, Sales, and Marketing.

While the floors were still dark, the walls that weren’t glass were painted the lightest grey, and the desks were sleek, modern dark wood with glass tops. The executive offices held larger versions of the assistants’ desks and two plush leather chairs for visitors. It was clear that the employees had added their own touches to the offices- bookshelves, pictures, and plants were a few of the obvious accessories. The glass walls on the hall side gave the offices a more open feeling and a sense of approachability.

We retraced our steps and headed down the hallway that branched off by Shannon’s desk, and I was struck by the absurdity of Dana’s insisted path for the tour. There were more bathrooms on the right before the hallway turned left. The layout was similar, but the kitchen had another entrance, and the executive assistant offices were further down. We passed the Chief Revenue Officer’s office first, then the Head of Legal and brother Alexander Rivera’s office. Chief Operations Officer Gabriel Rivera came next. The latter looked up and grinned, giving a little wave as we passed. While I hesitantly returned the motion, Dana pressed her lips into a firm line that was probably supposed to be a smile and nodded.

At the end of the hall, across from Julian Rivera’s corner office, was my office. It was bare, save the desk and a trash can. It smelled new, like the cleaners had been in, and wiped all traces of the previous occupant. I could picture the art I might hang on my walls, and I would ask my mother about plants for the space that I wouldn’t kill. She was a whiz when it came to everything flora, and I had a black thumb.

“You can leave your things here for now,” Dana said, pointing to the bare desk. “We need to take care of the rest of your onboarding.”

She quickly turned and walked out the door, leaving me to toss my bag on the desk before hurrying to catch up with her to make the short trek back to her office. I found myself hoping I wouldn’t have to see Dana much after today.

“Stand against the wall so I can get a photo,” she instructed.

“Is this where you wait until I’m blinking or opening my mouth?” I joked, but she just waited for me to get into position. I sighed and stood against the wall, giving my best smile to the public. Everybody was going to see that photo on my ID.

Unlike the other offices on the floor, Dana’s didn’t have many personal touches. It came across as rather sterile, and even the scent she wore smelled a bit like lemon cleaning products. She couldn’t have been more than 45, and there wasn’t a hint of grey in her golden highlighted brown hair. She was probably even pretty when she tried. Instead, she wore an unflattering power pantsuit in a shade of grey that washed her out. Maybe she hoped the color would help her blend in with the walls.

She took my photo for the ID badge that would get me access to all the Atabey Industries floors and the gym and parking garage that was beneath the building. I didn’t have my car with me since the position was offered on short notice and was on a trial basis for the first few months, so I would save on the pay to park; public transit was less expensive and ran just about everywhere I needed to go downtown.

“That’s everything from me for the day. I’ll leave your ID badge with Shannon so you can get it when you come in tomorrow.” Sitting down at her desk and turning her attention to the computer screen, Dana effectively dismissed me.

Murmuring my thanks, I walked back to my own office, a little disappointed that Shannon wasn’t at her desk. I needed to speak to someone with a personality after a day with Dana the dud.

I spent most of my day reading every little rule that governed the masses that worked for Atabey Industries. By the time I had scrawled my signature on the last form, I felt as if I had signed part of my life away.

I had, in a way. I was at Julian Rivera’s beck and call almost 24/7 for the next three months. My 90-day probation would be up in February, and at that point, I would sink or swim with a longer contract offer. It was fairly standard but always made me nervous. I had a tendency to put more pressure on myself than was expected. It was one of the reasons I excelled at my job. I had never been fired, always moving on to better jobs when I felt the timing was right. With this being the pinnacle of my career, I was left wondering if there was any upward mobility from here.

There was time to worry about that in the future. For now, I would make my way back to the quaint little Airbnb house I managed to rent for a month on the housing allowance that came with the job until I could find a more permanent apartment. Leftovers in my refrigerator and a glass of wine were calling my name.