Chapter 1 - Michelle
I was just glad that I landed. My life had been up in the air the last couple of years, and I didn't know where I was supposed to go or what I was supposed to do. Luckily, I had found a job advertisement for a guest services position for this luxury hotel in Los Angeles called The Capital. Interestingly, it had its own private airport nearby.
But why was I even here, I wondered. It was hard for me to give a clear answer, even to myself. I just knew that I couldn’t stay in New York City or my home town where I had been more recently. Not after all of what happened there. There were too many painful memories for me to ever go back.
After I graduated from my sociology program, I went to work in an up and coming digital advertising company, whose CEO seemed to promise clients the world. Whatever he was doing appeared to be working, as MicroLogic was one of Time’s fastest growing companies year after year. I ended up spending lots of time with the CEO, Melvin Small, because I joined the company when we were just a startup, right before business started surging.
While I liked advertising and marketing, Small was a nervous wreck. He’d come spilling his guts out to me about his decisions, worrying one moment that the business would be ruined, and then gloating the next after ‘realizing’ he had just made one of the most brilliant plays in the history of the Internet, bigger than anything done by Google, Facebook, Apple, and Amazon. We ended up spending time together because of his constant worrying and his need to vent and sort of ended up in a relationship by default.
I can’t say it was ever a passionate one. I don’t think he knew what that word meant nor did he have any interest in the idea. It never fit the spreadsheet mentality that consumed him and left me as little more than a box that had to be ticked in his sense of what a ‘businessman’ had to accomplish. But I couldn’t come to grips with the thought that I deserved better treatment. He outwardly fit the type of person my mother wanted me get engaged with. That is, someone shallow, plain, and rich. Someone predictable who would take care of me - financially speaking. Emotions and love? They didn't matter, she would say. They'd pass quickly and you'd be left with a man who didn't care for you, anyway. That was her belief. And sadly, I started to believe her, and I began to tell myself the love I had in the past was just an illusion - that I had tricked myself when I was younger and that it was time to move on to the bitter and boring reality that was my current relationship and life.
Truly, passion was out of the equation and wasn’t up for discussion. I was starting to become numb with life as Small couldn’t survive one day without whining to me about some problem or another he seemed to be having - or rather, creating - at MicroLogic. My unofficial job was putting out fires behind the scenes and getting entire departments to play nice after Small would invariably make some bizarre decision after withdrawing into paranoid speculation about who was plotting against him.
My closeness to Small, at least what appeared to the rest of the staff, since I would never describe us as close in the real emotional sense of the word, is what started to get me in trouble once people started asking questions about the business. It turns out that the fantastic growth Small had been touting to investors was all an accounting trick. It was one incredible trick, since even I was fooled into thinking things weren't as bad as they were. Before I could do anything, Small left the country with the investor money he still had and left the employees, investors, and me, hanging.
After all that, I returned to my hometown in Upstate New York. My mother had passed away years ago, and she was the only tie I had there. Still, in my head, I'd hear her ghost berating me for blowing it with Small. No matter what I said, it was my fault, just like it was my fault that I spent so much time on my high school boyfriend, Brent - the one guy I had felt a spark for that I didn't think was even possible. But staying at home was doing me no good. I had no motivation and was held back by all the memories in the places I'd encounter. Everything would remind me of better times, and it just made me think of how drab things had become in my life. So one day I took a chance and applied to The Capital, thinking I'd be able to get a fresh start. Room and board would be covered, and I'd be living in the sunshine near the beach, so I figured it would be a good opportunity to gather my bearings and create a new beginning. I wanted to create my own marketing agency, since I did enjoy the work at MicroLogic - when Small wasn't making it too ridiculous and stressful. But I'd rather do that type of work on my own, with my own ideas, so I wanted to take a break from the office setting. I'd be able to make some contacts on the West Coast and meet some interesting people at the hotel. I did an online video interview with a nice lady named Marsha who gave me the offer and I bought my tickets soon after.
But as I landed in LA, I wondered if it was all a mistake. I saw all the glitzy people around me with designer handbags and dresses - the closest I could get to wearing that kind of stuff was saving them on my Pinterest account and flipping through the pictures online. All around me were people that looked like stars, went to fancy little shops with uncomfortable wiry seats that served artisanal coffee, where they gossiped about who just had plastic surgery and who just bagged some other a-list celeb. I felt it as soon as I landed, and if I could, I'd run back to the plane. But to head back where? I couldn't answer it.
Luckily, before I did something I'd regret, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"Michelle?" said the voice.
I turned around and saw the same lady who had interviewed me for the position.
"Hi Marsha," I said, shaking her hand. "Nice to finally meet you."
Marsha's smile made me immediately feel at ease. She had short brown hair and weathered skin, and was wearing a green sweater and black dress pants. She had a motherly warmth of personality I could already sense as our hands were clasped together. She guided me to the car with the company driver she had set up. I felt my apprehension melt away as we walked together through the sunlight streaming through the wide windows on our way out.
We sat together in the back seat. Normally there'd be an awkward silence when I met someone knew, but Marsha was so friendly and personable that I forgot all the nerves that were building up since my trip began. Marsha was the CEO's assistant and I wondered why she had been sent all the way here to personally welcome me.
"The CEO likes to build a strong team," Marsha said, as the car led us to The Capital. "Trust is a huge thing for him. He wants people who work for him to feel like they're a valued member of the company. Actually, it's more than that. They're family. And so this is just me picking up a member of our family from the airport, to make them feel at home right from the beginning. Because that's how you get the best from people."
I nodded my head. Normally, from anyone else, in any other context, this whole 'family' business would creep me out. It would be a bit too cult-like for me. I wondered about the CEO who would could create such a welcoming environment, if it were true. You really had to be an exceptional personality and business person to be able to do that. All I experienced in my work life were horror stories. But in my rush to apply for the company and get to LA, I didn't really do my research on him, though the generosity of character that was conveyed certainly seemed true from the way Marsha spoke. I got the sense she was an honest person who was devoted to the CEO and the company for a good reason, and not a crazed fanatic who lost herself in the process. After the chaos that was MicroLogic, a working environment like this would be a relief.
Finally we arrived at the hotel and my jaw dropped. It was a place I could only dream of staying at. There were stone sculptures in the style of Ancient Greek art on the immaculately maintained lawn, surrounded by vibrant flowers that were almost like mini neon lights. As we walked up the finely crafted stairs and on to the marble floor of the lobby, I marveled at the classical design that used modern sleek materials as volumes of sunlight easily lit the entire building.
"Wow," I said out loud, "it's amazing."
"It was all the CEO's idea," Marsha said, smiling. Her head turned and she pointed to her left. "There he is now."
He was turned away and talking to someone but I could only see his powerful build, long legs, and short brown hair. The woman he was talking to laughed and he shook her hand, and then he started walking towards us. His gait conveyed power and relaxation as his arms swung freely. I could make the outlines of sharp features on his face that would have gotten anyone's attention. And then, as he was standing in front of us, my heart stopped. It wasn't just because he was the most handsome guy I've seen with sharp cheekbones that cut could out the stone sculptures in front of The Capital, and a natural tan with light stubble as he fit perfectly in his suit.
"Michelle," Marsha said, "this is Brent Stevenson, the CEO."
Brent Stevenson.
I had tried to forget that name for so long, and I never could.
"Michelle," Brent said quizzically, "Michelle Lajoie? From Birch Park High School?"
I couldn't move my hand to shake his.
It was really him.
Brent Stevenson, my first boyfriend in high school, the only guy who I thought I had ever loved. The only guy who made the word passion have any meaning to me. The guy who I thought I'd never get over.
The guy who broke my heart.
Brent Stevenson was the CEO.