Company Ink by E.L. Lewis

f o u r

Carpet.

This office has carpeted flooring. Am I being punished? Did I do something to anger the gods? Is this karma for being rude to Ingrid?

Dear Lord.

Walking on carpet in high heels makes me feel like a baby deer – wobbly and uncoordinated – two things that I most certainly am not.

According to Nadine, the Managing Partner just recently replaced the flooring; because apparently 'carpets reduce noise and thus heighten employee productivity'. I nearly quit right there and then. He sounds like a complete dud. But then I thought about Monique and our dreamy condo and decided to make a sacrifice. I suppose it's time to invest in a pair of...flats.

I'm surprised I'm even here right now. I guess Kai wasn't joking when he said they were desperate to hire someone. I sent Nadine an email Saturday morning and by dinner time I had a job. We went through all the motions of an interview, but we did it through Skype. She only asked me about half a dozen questions, most of them simply required a yes or no answer. Can you use a computer? Yes. Do you know how to use a scanner? Yes. Can you multitask? Yes. Can you start on Monday? Hell yes.

Nadine guides me through the barren and eerily white hallways of Pearson & Associates to her office. The firm is located in a tower in the center of downtown. The view from the 15th floor is spectacular, but the lack of personality and aesthetic in the office itself leaves much to be desired. There are no paintings, decorative plants, or even a color scheme; everything is black, white, and grey. Those aren't colors, they're shades, and shades are bo-ring. Not to mention that every private office has glass walls which means no privacy at all. There are blinds on the inside, but no one seems to be using them. We pass a row of cubicles set up in the middle of the office, I'm assuming that's where all the assistants sit.

Once we're in her office, Nadine hands me several stapled documents. "This is your contract." She flips to the second page. "As discussed, your salary is stipulated in paragraph 2 subsection B. All you need to do is sign at the bottom of each page and we're good to go."

If I knew personal assistants made this much money, I would've swapped my bachelor’s degree for a diploma in administration and called it a day. Thanks to this salary, the Jimmy Choo’s can stay.

I initial every required section and hand the contract back to the firm's HR manager. The faster I sign these documents, the sooner I can confirm whether Adrian Cavallero is as good looking in person as he is online. I'm still convinced that his picture is heavily edited. I perused the company website thoroughly on Sunday to ensure that I didn't walk in here today utterly clueless. I learned that in addition to mergers and acquisitions, this firm handles intellectual property, information technology, and cybersecurity. My eyes started to glaze over once I began Googling what the hell any of that meant. Needless to say, I pray that no one asks me to explain any of those terms.

"Alright, thank you, Cassandra," Nadine says, double-checking the document. Not in a million years would I have guessed she's related to Kai. Aside from their thick black hair and olive complexion, they are nothing alike. Nadine reminds me of my high school librarian: quiet and sweet. Whereas Kai is like a walking tornado, not that he's destructive, but if he's in a room, you'd notice him. "Another one of our PA’s, Kitty, will give you a full tour of the office and help you get settled in. Mr. Cavallero is currently off-site, so you'll be able to get acquainted with him later."

Nadine gestures towards her door where a young red-headed woman with giant green eyes is standing. That must be...Kitty. What the fuck kind of name is that? I guess I know who to question if my tuna salad sandwiches ever go missing from the communal fridge.

"Kitty, this is Cassandra, she will be filling in as Mr. Cavallero's PA while Janet is on maternity leave," Nadine says, standing up.

I follow suit and extend my hand out to the freckle-faced girl with immaculate contouring skills; seriously, those cheekbones? Dang. "You can call me Cassie," I state with a soft smile. Kitty shakes the tips of my fingers. Alright then... someone didn't read Art of the Handshake in last month's Cosmo.

"I trust you can take it from here?" Nadine asks Kitty who nods eagerly.

"Of course, Nadine. You know you can count on me," Kitty smiles, her dark red lips curling into a proud smile. "Lunch later?"

"If I have time," Nadine says flatly, turning towards me. Jesus, a stick of butter has more personality than this woman. "If you need anything, my extension number is listed in the directory that's on your desk. Enjoy your first day Cassandra. Goodbye."

I force a smile. "Thanks, Nadine," I say. If everyone in this office is as bland as Nadine I might actually die.

"Shall we?" Kitty asks, leading me out of Nadine's office and down the hallway. "So, welcome to Pearson, as Nadine said my name's Kitty, well actually, it's Katherine but Kitty is just cuter, you know?"

My eyes light up as a wave of excitement washes over my body. Kitty seems...fun. Maybe I'll survive here after all. "It is cute," I agree, feeling the cloud that's hovering over my head slowly start to dissipate. "And yeah, I'm excited to be here."

"Good!" she exclaims. "Let me show you around."

Kitty takes me on an extremely thorough tour of the entire office. She shows me the printing room, the staff room, the law library, the toilets, the IT room, various admin offices, and several other places I'm sure half the people who work here don't even know exist. Do I really need to know that there's a supply closet hidden behind a fake wall in the kitchen? Am I going to have to clean? My nail tech won't be pleased with me.

It takes over an hour to explore every nook and cranny of the firm. I'm introduced to over thirty staff members; half of them barely even raise their heads or acknowledge our presence but it doesn't seem to bother Kitty. Every person I'm introduced to has the word 'law' or 'legal' in their title. Only the Senior Associates and Partners have personal assistants which means that Adrian is a big dog within these walls. Kitty briefly points out the Managing Partner's office; his is the only one that does not have glass walls, but instead is covered in a deep grey vinyl frosting. I suppose the boss is the only one allowed to have some privacy.

Anti-social and likes carpets? Definitely not looking forward to meeting this man.

"Oh, David! You're back!" Kitty stops in front of a desk two over from mine. He must be another PA. "This is Cassie, she's covering for Janet while she's away."

David stands up aggressively and flings out his hand. "David Castleberg, pleased to make your acquaintance."

I stifle a laugh. This dude looks like an army cadet not a personal assistant. He has a military-style buzz cut, round face, and buggy hazel eyes. He kind of reminds me of Matt Damon's character in Saving Private Ryan, except younger and slightly chunkier.

"Nice to meet you, David." I shake his hand. As soon as his fingers wrap around my hand, a jolt of pain shoots up my arm. Holy shit, what a grip. I have to mentally force myself to stay upright and not collapse on the floor in agony. Kitty and David both need a lesson in how to shake a hand. She's like a wet fish and he's like the hand of Thanos.

"I was just about to take a quick coffee break," David says to Kitty, walking around his desk. "You in?"

"Do I ever say no to caffeine?" Kitty lets out a melodic giggle. "Cassie? You wanna join us?"

Seeing as Adrian isn't back yet I guess I have some time to kill. "I'm down, but I don't drink coffee," I state as we make our way down to the staff room. "I'll have tea though."

Kitty and David both look at me as if I just said I drown kittens. "I'm sorry, what?" Kitty asks, completely taken aback as we enter the kitchen.

"I get that reaction a lot," I laugh. "Coffee just makes me super jittery. One time, my friend and I had a venti blonde roast from Starbucks right before a final exam and I swear I almost had a heart attack in the lecture hall. I finished a two-hour long exam in forty minutes, it was crazy. I had anxiety for two full days after."

"Well, that's unfortunate. You're going to need the energy to work Pearson hours." David passes me and Kitty a mug each from the cabinet above the sink. My eyes widen. I'm used to working overtime, but David's weary tone makes me think I'll have to bring a sleeping bag to work with me. Maybe a bit of caffeine won't kill me. I riffle through the tea drawer until I find a jasmine green tea with lemongrass. I dangle it into my mug and fill it up with hot water.

"David, don't freak her out. It's only her first day," Kitty scolds, popping a pod into the high-tech Nespresso machine. "He's joking, it's not that bad. Mr. Cavallero rarely made Janet stay past five o'clock."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," David, muses, stirring some creamer into his steaming cup of coffee. "He's not as bad as Ms. Weston or Mr. Virk."

I squeeze my eyebrows together. "Who?"

"Oh, sorry! Vivian Weston is my boss, and Manpreet Virk is Kitty's. You'll see them around. They're both off-site with Mr. Cav today," David elaborates. "Nancy told me Mr. Pearson is out as well."

I blink. Why does he keep name dropping? I've only been here for two hours! How the hell am I supposed to know who Nancy is? "And Nancy is...?"

Kitty giggles. "Nancy is Mr. Pearson's PA, she doesn't sit with us. She has her own office."

"Her own office? That's cool," I hum. I suppose if you're the Managing Partner's assistant you get special treatment. I wonder where it is...maybe it was that small room just off to the side of Mr. P's office.

Kitty snorts, the gust of air from her nose causes her coffee to ebb and flow. "Yeah, this way she can cry in private and not in front of us."

"Cry? Why would she cry?" I ask. "Is Mr. Pearson a dick or something?" I probably shouldn't have used that adjective to describe my employer. Mental note: do not use the word dick at work.

"Mmm," Kitty hums, unfazed by my language. Okay, light swearing is back on the table. "I wouldn't say he's a dick, he's just very particular. Like a....my way or the highway type of guy."

"Yeah," David chimes in. "Ever since he got bumped up to MP, Mr. Pearson has changed most of our processes. His dad was way more laid back, believe it or not. You'd think a twenty-nine-year-old man would be more relaxed than a sixty-year-old." My mind is trying to retain all the information they're throwing at me.

"The, uh—MP, is only in his twenties?" I ask, trying to stop my eyebrows from shooting up in surprise. My knowledge of the American law industry is purely derived from watching countless hours of Suits and Legally Blonde, but late twenties seems young to be a Managing Partner.

"Yeah, Mr. Pearson Senior had a heart attack six months ago and had to step down, so his son Blake took over. Honestly, everyone thought Mr. Cavallero would get the job seeing as he's the best lawyer at the firm but nepotism and all," David explains with disdain in his voice.

Kitty rolls her eyes and slaps David's shoulder. "You know he can't hear you right? No need to be a brown-noser." Kitty turns to me. "David is obsessed with Mr. Cavallero. It's almost creepy."

David shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. "Can't one man look up to another man without it being creepy?" David shakes his head. "I'm not saying Mr. Pearson is incompetent. He's very talented but he's not Mr. Cav."

The way David is talking about my new boss is getting me quite excited to meet him. Attractive and successful? Sign me up.

"Shoot!" Kitty checks her watch. "We should head back. I need to print Mr. Virk some reports before they come back from their meeting."

I quickly add some more hot water to my tea before we exit the kitchen and walk back to our desks.

"So, about Mr. Cavallero—" I bite my tongue, unsure if I should ask my question or not. Kitty seems relatively chill and I'm just dying to know.

"What?" Kitty asks as we round the corner.

"I saw his picture online," I pause, trying to read Kitty's expression. "I'm just wondering, is he actually that ho—"

Before I can finish my sentence, Kitty's dainty hand grabs my forearm, her nails digging into my skin.

I stop dead in my tracks.

My eyes shift to the pair of shiny loafers on the floor in front of me. My gaze travels up the long length of the owner of the Salvatore Ferragamo dress shoes. Even though I'm mortified, I can't help but admire the navy blue fitted suit or the lean muscle frame which it's wrapping. Once my gaze reaches past his paisley print pocket square, my breath catches in the back of my throat.

Shit.

Adrian is standing in front of us, a knowing grin spread on his immaculate face.

Did he hear me?

"Hi..." I finish with a shaky breath, my knees about to give out.

Well, at least now I have my answer. No filter. No photoshop.

Just pure unadulterated fucking sex appeal.

Chastity gods, you better be with me.