Company Ink (25 page)

Lucy returned quietly, closing the door behind her. Rachel’s heart thudded in her ears, and all she could do was silently pray that her boss couldn’t hear it as well. Lucy sat on her throne, regarding Rachel with interest, leaning back in her chair and giving her a long stare. Rachel swallowed hard. She knew punishment was coming, and could only hope it wasn’t too severe. She took a deep breath.

“Before you say anything, I just want to apol — ”

“Miss Sirianni,” Lucy interrupted. Her voice was quiet, but effectively stopped Rachel in her tracks, “I started this company almost ten years ago with the last $5,000 in my savings account. I had no hope, no prospects, and no job offers. All I ever wanted to do was write. But not a single literary agent or publisher would have me because I’d never been published before. So I started Equinox Publishing to forward my own work, and the work of others who were shut out by the bigger publishing houses for the same reason.

“All of those authors, they counted on me. They needed me to be here bright and early so that I could view every single manuscript and make sure everyone had a fair shake. I’ve been on time since day one. I’ve met deadlines, I’ve beat deadlines, and I’ve always been here. This is why I expect the best from my entire staff. From the editorial assistants all the way up. Do you understand?”

Rachel nodded, not trusting herself to speak without bursting into tears. All she’d wanted was a shot with Equinox, from the moment she started college. Rachel already knew Lucy Black’s history; she knew exactly how she had gone from an unknown to the most successful independent publisher on the East Coast. She also knew that Lucy Black was the champion of the unpublished writer; Equinox Publishing had developed a reputation for taking a chance on talented, unpublished writers that bigger publishing houses normally turned their backs on.

“Being twenty minutes late is unacceptable on any day in this company,” Lucy continued after a brief silence, “But today was your first day. Can you blame me for thinking twice about giving you this junior editor position now?”

Rachel’s brow furrowed in disappointment, but she shook her head. No, she supposed she couldn’t blame her. If the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t be happy with a junior editor being so late on her first day without a phone call, regardless of the situation.

“And would you blame me if I asked you to leave this office right now?”

Rachel’s eyes stung and she flinched slightly as if she’d been slapped in the face. I blew it, she thought to herself sadly. Her stomach clenched, and she felt her eyes water — but she shook her head in response to Lucy’s question.

Lucy paused to examine Rachel carefully. The silence seemed to go on forever. Lucy stood, and Rachel’s eyes remained on her own knees as she wrung her hands nervously. Certain she was on her way out, she’d begun to fidget, her knee tapping lightly on the front edge of Lucy’s desk.

“I’m afraid I have to rescind on the junior editor position I originally offered you.”

Rachel drew in a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. She placed her hands on the arms of her chair to stand when Lucy continued.

“Wait, Rachel — I’m not finished.”

Her eyes widened and met Lucy’s. The editor’s gaze had softened, but her mouth remained set in a firm line.

“I withdraw the offer of Junior Editor … for now. I just can’t, in good conscience, give you a position that I’m not entirely confident you can handle. But I will keep you on, in an entry-level position. I’m only giving you this opportunity because I was impressed by your resume and your eye for detail. That said, I’ll personally keep an eye on you to see how well you learn and whether or not I can depend on you. We’ll review your progress in six to eight months, and then we’ll talk junior editor and the pay that comes with it.”

Rachel’s heart fluttered hopefully. “Will I be proofreading? Reading manuscripts?”

“Perhaps, but you’ll mostly be doing administrative work. You’ll be an assistant to a member of the editorial team. It’s all I’ve got right now. Take it, or leave it.”

Rachel visibly shrunk, but she held Lucy’s gaze. “And we’ll review my progress in six months?”

“Six to eight months.”

“With all due respect, Miss Black,” Rachel replied, “May I have that in writing?”

The editor cracked a smile. “It’s Lucy, and yes you may. There may be hope for you yet.”

Rachel finally smiled. “Then I accept your new offer, Lucy. Will I still be starting today?”

“Absolutely,” Lucy answered, “Follow me. We’ll set up a station for you.”

Rachel took a cleansing breath and followed Lucy down another hall that would lead to a set of cubicles that housed the administrative staff. Okay, Rachel thought, so I’m back to getting coffee and typing letters. But I’m here! And six months is more than enough time to dazzle Lucy Black. She couldn’t help but think that everything was going to be okay.

• • •

“I’m screwed.”

Rachel sat across a small round table from her best friend Camille, as they both sipped from two abundantly filled glasses of riesling. Camille raised an eyebrow and gave her a smirk.

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

Rachel pursed her lips and fought a smile. “Cami, I’m serious! I’m only making a dollar more an hour than I was at StarChefs.”

“I thought we were here to celebrate,” Camille teased, “You’re in the company you’ve wanted to work for since freshman year. So you’ve got to start back at the beginning. Suck it up and wow them, now! And if that doesn’t work, just sleep your way to the top.”

Rachel snickered and tilted her head to one side. “Cami, please.”

Camille gave Rachel a wink and turned to hail their waiter. “Don’t you worry Rach, we’ll make this week disappear and you can start fresh on Monday.”

Rachel smiled at her best friend. Camille had just turned thirty, and somehow seemed more worldly than most women ten years her senior. The fact that she was a fashion photographer might have had something to do with it. She’d been to a number of different countries, and had met some of the world’s most interesting people. The way Cami told it, the most interesting were usually found in back alley bars, local watering holes, and hole-in-the-wall pubs. She’d seen it all, done it all, and captured it all. Buying Cami a glass of wine would get you hours of some of the best stories ever told — and Rachel got to hear them all for free.

A waiter approached and filled their glasses once more. Camille held her glass up to toast Rachel.

“To the finest junior editor the publishing world has ever seen,” she announced with a smile, tossing her thick ash blond locks behind her shoulder.

Rachel blushed. “The finest almost junior editor.”

“Semantics,” Camille replied with a sly smile, “Your future is set, and I say that it’s so. Now clink my glass and drink already!”

Rachel laughed and saluted her buddy, taking a long, satisfying sip. Camille studied her closely, and allowed herself a serious moment.

“Honey, listen,” she said, placing a comforting hand on Rachel’s forearm, “This may be a setback, but it’s a minor one. I know how talented you are, and I know how much you love books and the business. You will get the position you were hired for; I know it. You’re already a star, now you’ve just got to prove it.”

Rachel smiled. “Thanks, Cam. And thanks for dinner! I’m not going to need to eat until Monday! Then again, I can’t really afford to.”

“Now, now, enough of the pity party,” Camille chided, “You know if you need money I can lend it to you. It comes with an open-ended payback policy, and zero interest.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m just going to have to find another job again.”

Rachel breathed a heavy sigh at the mention of a second job; she was so tired of it! Losing sleep to barely get by wasn’t her idea of living life. She’d expected to have that under control by now. But, it was the price one often paid to live their dream.

“It’s only six months,” Camille insisted, “You can make it. You’ll be fine by the end of the year.”

Rachel leaned back, stretching her arms. “God, I hope so. I’m pretty much over the four hours of sleep routine.”

Cami took a long sip from her wine glass. “You can get through it. What you can’t do, however, is be late again.”

Rachel nodded, giving a yawn. “Let’s call it a night. Or at least let’s get a bottle to go and watch some movies at my place.”

“Is the roommate home?”

“Nope, she just left on an improv tour.”

Camille stood. “Throw in a couple of Diane Keaton movies and I’m there.”

Rachel grinned. “Annie Hall?”

“Annie Hall.”

• • •

Rachel sat at her writing desk in the living room for the fourth week in a row, stunned. All of her leads had fallen apart. None of her headhunters had been able to come through for her. StarChefs had put a hold on hiring, so she had no chance of returning to her old job despite the fact that she left on great terms. A month had gone by, and she’d submitted her resume at least a hundred times.

There were no callbacks, no interviews. Either the market stunk, or her resume did. If Rachel didn’t find something soon, she’d run through her savings in no time. She’d wisely budgeted for hard times, and she knew her bills were covered for a couple of months. But let’s face it, she sighed internally, money doesn’t grow on trees … but damn, would that be awesome! The idea of eating doctored-up ramen for another month made her stomach turn.

At the other end of the living room, the cordless phone rang. Rachel almost knocked her coffee table over to get it. Nicky, the large and ridiculous golden retriever gave chase behind her and slid into the wall beside the telephone stand with a muted thud. Rachel’s fluffy roommate stared at her expectantly, as if to ask whether or not all of that excitement was worth it.

Rachel rolled her eyes at the dog. “Dummy,” she muttered, and then spoke into the receiver, “Hello?”

“Rachel, it’s Cam!”

“Oh, hi Cami,” Rachel replied, her heart only partially sinking.

“Okay, listen,” Camille mockingly scolded, “I’m gonna need a little more excitement out of you when I call. I don’t dial this thing very often!”

A small chuckle escaped Rachel’s lips. “I’m sorry, Cam. I just thought you might have been a callback.”

“Hmm,” Camille sighed, “Still no luck with a second job?”

“Nope,” Rachel answered, “And now I get to go to work, get coffee and type barely thought out reports for a junior editor who doesn’t actually read the manuscripts that Lucy puts on her desk.”

“I don’t know why you haven’t rolled over on this girl yet,” Camille sniffed.

“Because I’m not a snitch or a backstabber,” Rachel explained, “Who wants a career based on the number of people they’ve thrown under the bus? I want to get to the top based on merit, Cami.”

“And you will, Rach,” she replied quickly, “But Lucy will never see what you can do if you keep covering for that waste of office space. And you can bet your check that Little Miss Junior Ed has thrown a bevy of the competition under the bus when it suited her needs.”

“I’d rather not bet my check,” Rachel spoke, a smirk drawing one corner of her mouth upward, “I need that to support the phone bill I generate from talking to you.”

“Don’t you sass me,” Camille answered, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Just think about it.”

“I will,” she replied, “Lunch at one?”

“You got it. I’ll text you the details.”

“Cool. Later, Cam.”

Rachel thought about Camille’s advice. She’d been telling her for weeks to give Lucy the heads up about Michelle’s shoddy workmanship. Michelle was one of the three-person junior editor team that worked at Equinox Publishing, and she was also the top contender for the editor spot that Lucy was planning to fill at the end of the year. Rachel learned fast that Michelle’s status in the company had nothing to do with an actual talent for selecting bestsellers. Michelle was lucky enough to have had a small string of assistants who knew how to find winning manuscripts, while she possessed the talent to rewrite presentations in her own words and take all the credit when the published book turned out to be a winner.

Word around the office was that her last assistant, instead of reporting Michelle to Lucy, chose to sabotage Michelle instead. He placed a less than stellar manuscript on the table for presentation; it was one that he knew Lucy wouldn’t have pushed through for printing. But he stealthily slid it onto Michelle’s desk with a report, and the entire packet made its way to the conference room.

Lucy described Michelle’s presentation as the “worst lapse of judgment in Equinox history.” Now only known as “the assistant,” he expected Michelle’s cover to be blown.

What he didn’t expect was for Michelle to rally back quickly. She blamed the entire fiasco on him, citing that she had taken a vested interest in coaching him so that he could apply for the next available junior editor spot. She cried crocodile tears in Lucy’s office while explaining that she’d put all of her trust in him, and he must’ve chosen to sabotage her. The assistant was gone by the end of the week.

As Rachel stood online in Bean, the local coffeehouse, she couldn’t shake the feeling that, if she spoke to Lucy, she’d end up being the next office legend. They’d probably dub her “The Dumb Girl.” Michelle had already proven herself to be untouchable, and starting a war like that couldn’t possibly end well for Rachel. Then again, Camille was right — how else was she supposed to get out from under Miss Junior Ed?

Rachel absently sipped from her latte as she stared at the community board, looking for any help wanted posts. One particular postcard sparked her interest. Orchid Communications. Looking for a few good phone operators. Must be PC literate. Switchboard experience a plus but not necessary. Full- or part-time available. Comparable hourly rate with bonus potential.

She took the card off of the corkboard, her heart fluttering excitedly. With a little more spring in her step, she spun around with the card in her hand. Rachel suddenly met with what felt like a brick wall; she stumbled backward in a daze and almost fell. A rather large hand clamped around her forearm and held her steady. She shook the cobwebs out of her head and looked up — way up — into a pair of chocolate brown eyes.