Chapter 2
After quite some time, the woman from the elevator emerged from the office. The man that saw her out had a grim expression on his face. The woman, likewise, looked equally upset. A few strands of her hair had fluttered onto the side of her face; they framed her melancholy as she walked to the elevator, her steps muted and dull.
“Ms. Brooks?” The man called out with a shrill voice.
With a smile, Emma got up. She straightened herself out, and rolled her shoulders in order to straighten out her spine. Men liked to prey on weak women in the business world and Emma wasn’t about to become one of them. With a confident stride, she closed the gap between them, and offered her hand.
The man smiled at her introduction, as he gave her a firm handshake that she returned with a similar firmness. “Please come in.” The man offered.
Inside the small office, Emma settled herself into a red circular chair, and tried to make herself comfortable. She reached into her purse, her resume in hand in case he should ask for it. Only if he decided to ask for her resume though. She didn’t want to seem too eager, but at the same time, she knew the importance of preparation.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure.” She answered out of politeness.
The man nodded before he headed toward the back of the office to pour her a cup. He handed it to her before he sat down. He assumed a casual air, but Emma wasn’t about to be fooled so easily. Interviewers often deployed this tactic to note if their potential employees would relax. Emma maintained her posture and smiled.
“So, to start off, why don’t you tell me why you’re interested in working for Mayflower Industries?”
“Absolutely.” Emma nodded, while her hands rested on her knees. As she did, the man’s eyes moved along her slender legs with a look of desire. “As a recent graduate with a master’s degree in marketing, I thoroughly searched the market for jobs. I could’ve applied my skills anywhere, but I knew I wanted to work for a big company, like yours, that still manages to be more than just a company. When I found Mayflower, it seemed like the perfect fit. With your goal to bring affordable transportation to refugees, displaced families, and orphans, I knew this was the place for me. I knew a job here would allow me to do something for the whole world.” She paused and smiled for effect. “On a less important note, I also wanted to stay local.” Emma smiled, her pace slowed as she paused to prove that she had genuinely thought about her idea and didn’t depend on some cookie-cutter answer.
“Mayflower interests me because it has been so successful in a market that consists mostly of charity work. I am interested in how you make a profit when most of your services are offered at little to no cost to your clients. I realized, in the end, that most of your revenue must come from marketing – advertisements, endorsements, donations, and the like. Am I correct?”
Mr. Limerick looked up from her legs and loosened his tie, as he attempted to compose himself. After a minute, he took a deep breath and presented a convoluted and nondescript response that didn’t even come close to an answer of the question. Emma smiled nonetheless, acting interested in what he had to say.
The rest of the interview continued in a similar manner until Emma left the office, she felt like it didn’t go exactly as planned. Overall, however, she had done rather well, with only a few small mistakes.
“We’ll keep in touch. Expect a phone call in a few days.” Mr. Limerick told her, as he walked her to the door.
“I look forward to it.” She flashed another smile, and prayed that everything would work out in the end.
◆◆◆
A few days later, as Emma was in the laundry room of the poorly lit basement of her apartment building, her phone rang. She grabbed it, an unknown number on the screen. She answered, the phone pinned against her ear by her shoulder as she folded one of her crop tops. “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Ms. Brooks?”
“Speaking,” Emma answered, she recognized Mr. Limerick’s uniquely shrill voice even through the phone. Her heart started to thud with anticipation as she realized that this was the moment of truth. This was when she would discover if she had finally found a job that would sustain her lifestyle.
“Hello. This is Mr. Limerick. I’m calling to inform you that Mayflower Industries is interested in taking you on for a trial period. You’ll be working with us for two weeks, after which we’ll decide if we want to hire you full time. You will, of course, be compensated for your time with us, even if you are not hired.”
Emma smiled brightly at the response. It was not a definite yes, but all she had to do was make a good impression and the job would be as good as hers. “That’s great. I look forward to working with you.” She answered, as she attempted to contain her excitement in order to form an appropriate response. “When would you like me to start?”
“Monday morning. 9:00 A.M. I hope to see you there. If you’re not here on Monday, I’ll assume that you’ve forfeited your position in which case, we’ll invite the next applicant and you will lose your opportunity.”
“I’ll be there,” Emma answered confidently before she hung up, the phone clutched to her chest as she predicted how her life was about to change.
◆◆◆
On her first day at the new job, Emma arrived early. Thirty minutes early to be exact. She had been determined to catch the bus this time, so she had woken up at 7:00 A.M. She had barely made it out of bed, but somehow, she managed to get up and get dressed, even though her actions were zombie-like for most of the morning.
Now, with time to spare, she eyed the small coffee shop across the street with a ravenous look. She crossed the road, and pulled the door open when she got to the front of the coffee shop. The smell of freshly-ground coffee beans wafted from behind the counter. She took a deep breath in as the essence flowed into her soul; it seemed like that alone was enough to wake her up from her stupor.
Once she got in line, she noticed that most of the clientele were well-to-do businessmen, who held briefcases in one hand and a phone in the other. They shouted their orders at the baristas who flinched any time their words flung across the counter. She knew it would be quite the wait, so she looked at the chalk menu to busy herself as she tried to determine what kind of coffee she wanted. There were various flavors from pumpkin spice to a plain dark roast. There were lattes, espressos, and iced coffees too.
As the line snaked forward, Emma edged with the crowd; she knew she would have to make her choice soon. She bit her lip before she decided on a Columbian blend. Something strong and flavorful would hit the spot. When it was her turn to order, she smiled at the barista and used a level voice. The young teenage girl looked relieved to have an order that wasn’t shouted at her.
Emma moved to the end of the counter to gather up creams and sugars while she waited patiently for her Columbian blend. Amidst the sea of dark suits, there was one man who wore light beige. Emma couldn’t see his face, but she could tell by the Rolex on his wrist that he was a man of wealth and power. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t holler into his phone. Instead, he was very present in the current moment, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the menu. Emma watched him before she saw the barista place her drink on the counter.
Quickly, she poured in the perfect amount of cream and sugar. As she did so, she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She turned around, trying to pinpoint the cause of the sensation but she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She shrugged it off as she stirred her coffee and then turned around to dispose of her empty packets.
When she turned around, her coffee was gone!
“What the -” She looked at the barista who gave her a small shrug. Emma glanced around the rest of the coffee shop and saw the man in the beige suit as he left. There was no way he could have gotten his order already. He was still in line when Emma had stirred her coffee. Irritated, she followed him, determined to get her coffee back, but once she got out on the street, he was already gone. She grinded her teeth and looked at her phone: 8:55. There would be no time for her to go back and get another cup. She would just have to go through the day without it. Worst case scenario, she would settle for whatever coffee the employee breakroom offered her.
◆◆◆
For the rest of her trial period, Emma had to deal with the coffee thief. She tried everything to catch him in the act, but somehow, he always managed to steal her coffee. One time she even shouted after him, but he just left without a word. It was like whenever Emma turned around, he disappeared like morning fog.
One time, she was determined to outsmart him. The moment the barista put her coffee on the counter, she snatched it up in her hand. Emma grinned, victorious, she thought she had finally won the battle but as she walked out of the shop, her phone started to ring inside her purse. She tried to fish it out with her free hand but it was useless. She had to put her cup down to search through her bag. Of course, when she went to pick it up again, it was gone.
Another time, her strap came undone. And another time, a man had dropped his briefcase and spilled its contents, and she of course felt obligated to help him. Every time, it was like Fate had worked against her. Emma just couldn’t catch a break, no matter what she did to stop this man.
In her second trial week, she saw him inside the lobby, as he sipped on the coffee he had stolen from her that morning. He was in deep conversation with a few other men. The way he took command of the conversation with his deep, husky voice made Emma think that he was a man of great importance. Even with his comfortable stance and almost nonchalant pose, he demanded attention from all those around him.
Emma had been so determined to confront him, but now, all that resolve quickly washed away. In that moment, he intimidated her. Besides, if he was an important figure here, she couldn’t make him angry, it would only hurt her chances of being accepted into the company. She would just have to bite her tongue, at least for the remainder of her trial period.
On her final day, however, as she waited for the elevator with a group of people, she spotted the individual. He had a smug look on his face. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief. Emma nearly stomped her way over to him to demand an explanation, but it all felt like a game at this point. He grinned at her as he stepped into the elevator; he knew he had gotten away with the theft of her oh-so-precious coffee for nearly two weeks now.
His face haunted her mind as she got into a different elevator, and pressed herself into the corner as corporate workers packed themselves into the small space like a bunch of shoppers in a department store on Black Friday. She closed her eyes; she felt the elevator make its ascent. The thief was quite handsome if Emma had to be honest with herself. His dark, slicked-back hair was a little old-fashioned but it suited his angular face rather well. His sharp nose, thin, pressed lips and deep-set eyes gave him an expression of importance, while his neatly-trimmed goatee gave him an air of playfulness, as if he was still a college student who prided himself on his well kept facial hair.
Emma wondered who that man was and why someone with a Rolex couldn’t just buy his own goddamn coffee in the first place. Here she was spending her hard-earned cash on her much needed coffee, only to have it whisked away each and every day. It was downright irritating. Sometimes she just wanted to scream at him, to chase him down the street until he handed it over. One day, she was sure she would snap and do just that.