GABRIELLA
Iwas getting better at this whole dressing cute for work thing. I’d stopped wearing all the new items Jake bought for me by themselves and instead started mixing and matching the new clothes with items I already owned. It felt a little more like me. The clothes he’d picked out were sexy, sophisticated, and sometimes a little severe with their tight form and revealing fabrics. Wearing a sleek pencil skirt and one of my looser, cozy cashmere sweaters felt like the perfect balance to me.
As I strode into the office on Monday, I felt much more like myself than I had in weeks in my new outfit and my usual jewelry. I also didn’t have that usual pit of dread in my stomach that made itself at home every Sunday before the work week began. Instead, I had a pep in my step, and I found myself looking straight up toward the crow’s nest when I exited the elevator.
As always, there was Jake, dressed in a bespoke dark suit, pacing his office as he spoke on the phone.
Things had been going much better now that we’d agreed to start fresh and respect each other. He gave me a lot more wiggle room and no longer made over the top demands. He didn’t expect me to work on my time off, either. For example, I’d managed to spend my entire weekend doing whatever my little heart desired. I cleaned my condo, went and bought some flowers, planted them in pots I bought from a thrift store, and arranged them on my patio. I purged some of my wardrobe and played around with work outfits. I even managed to make time to prepare myself some meals for the week.
I felt like a new woman.
As I strode past Donna’s desk, she whistled.
I blushed and shooed her away. “Stop that.”
“You look good, Gabi. I like this combo.” She pointed up and down, referring to my skirt and sweater. “It’s very casual chic.”
“Perfect, I was trying to find a middle ground.”
I continued through the office, saying good morning to everyone I passed and eventually making my way up the stairs. Instead of going into Jake’s office and interrupting his call, I hooked a right and strode along the metal framework path that made a balcony around the second floor, looking over the deck. I pushed open the doors to the conference room and propped them open. Jake had a full day of meetings and pitches with potential clients today, and I wanted to get the ball rolling and make sure he was set up for success.
With the salary he was paying me and no excuse to loathe my job anymore, I had to prove every day that I was worth the cost.
I opened all the blinds and let the sunlight pour in. The air-conditioning up here was more than effective, and I knew if any clients came in dressed for the summer heat, they’d be chilled in here. The least I could do was create patches of sunlight for them to soak in should they need it.
After that, I placed an order at a local catering company for a large coffee carafe that would serve one hundred cups. Along with the coffee, I asked for an assortment of breakfast pastries. They told me they would be there in an hour, which would be perfect timing.
Jake had emailed me a list of the day’s appointments last night, as well as documents for each client to take home after their pitch. Their job was to come in and lay out their business plan for Jake. If he took interest in their company idea, he’d mark it down and follow up with them. If not, he’d politely let them know that he wasn’t the right investor for them so they could move on. I appreciated that he wouldn’t let them sit and stew, waiting for a call that would never come.
Knowing I still had plenty of time on my hands, I went to the copy room and printed off all the paperwork he’d sent me. I grabbed several black files with gold-embossed writing on it with his company name, Cassidy Investments LTD. I tucked the relevant pages into different folders, marking each one with a neon pink tab, where I wrote down the client’s name. I stacked them neatly and brought everything back to the conference room. I set out the first folders at one end of the table, in front of the projector where the clients would stand to make their pitches. I brought the other folders to the opposite end of the table where Jake would sit.
Standing back, I observed the setting.
It still felt cold. Sterile.
It needed warmth and color. It needed literally anything to make it feel less like a stagnant, generic conference room and more like the sort of room the clients would want to come back to. When they pitched their product, I wanted them to feel important—and like they’d made the right choice coming to Jake.
I checked my watch.
I still had forty minutes before I had to be here for the coffee delivery. That was plenty of time to run downstairs and try to find something to bring this place to life a little. I hurried out, catching a curious glance from Jake as I rushed past his office. He was still on the phone.
Donna watched me go and called after me. “Where the heck are you going? Don’t you have meetings all day?”
“I’ll be back in twenty!”
Down on the street and out in the summer heat, I began to regret my cashmere sweater. I hurried down the block to a florist stand on the corner of a busy intersection. The man working wore a dark green apron and he worked with a sharp pair of sheers to trim the ends of stems as he made beautiful arrangements. His creative eye was impressive. His bouquets were gorgeous, unique, and had a flair all their own.
I bought the largest one he had and rushed back up to the office with it.
I was huffing and puffing and a bit sweaty by the time I made it back to the conference room. I laid the flowers out on the table and spent the next ten minutes searching random cupboards in the printing room as well as the staff kitchen, desperate for something I could use as a vase. Eventually I found an old crystal one in a back cupboard. I dragged it out, cleaned it, filled it with water, and brought it back to the conference room.
As I placed the arrangement in the vase, I kicked off my heels. All this running around was killing my feet already.
Just as I was about to step back and see if anything needed to be tweaked, my phone rang. The caterers were down in the lobby. I told them to come up to the top floor. When they arrived, I guided them up the stairs to the conference room, and they helped me set up the coffee carafe on a rolling tray. We set out all the pastries on a large platter that they brought, and I put out small plates along with some cutlery and napkins. I tipped the caterers, who told me to call anytime, and walked them out in my bare feet.
I checked the time once more. Fifteen minutes until the first meeting. Already exhausted from all the running around, I dragged myself back up the stairs to Jake’s office. He waved for me to come in and wrapped up his phone call while I stood there waiting, hands clasped in front of myself, bare toes exposed.
I should have kept my shoes on. Why are you so weird, Gabi?