Chapter Sixteen
Julie
Two weeks later…
"Of course, I'm interested!"
I'm nearly giddy with excitement but doing my best to contain myself and sound professional. As it is, I'm not doing a great job with it. This is a call I've been desperately waiting for, but never thought I would actually get. The woman on the other line talks for a few more seconds, and I concentrate on listening carefully, so I can understand what she's saying through my glee.
"That definitely works for me," I say. "I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning."
This all feels so similar to the exchange I had with Mr. Slidell the day he offered me the interview for his firm. Only then, I thought I was interviewing for a PR position when the job opening was for a secretary. Now, I know I'm going in for the interview I want. I end the call and drop my phone to my father's old chair before jumping up and down a few times. It isn't nearly as joyous as it could be, since I'm alone, but it's all I have right now, and I'm going to celebrate.
Almost as though the thought brought him to me, Joe comes through the front door and walks into the living room. Without even greeting me, he jumps up beside me and dances around with me for a few seconds. This is one of the reasons I love my big brother so much. He's willing to look ridiculous with me even if he doesn't know why simply because he's glad I'm happy. When we stop, he smiles at me.
"What's going on?" he asks.
I'm grinning so hard my cheeks hurt.
"I just got off the phone with Amelia Barton."
"Do I know Amelia Barton?" Joe asks.
"No," I say, shaking my head. "Neither do I."
"That is a lot of exuberance for getting a phone call from someone you don't know."
"No, I mean I don't know her yet. But I'm going to. Amelia Barton is the secretary for Edmond Mills."
I give this information a few seconds to sink in. Joe looks like he's thinking about it, trying to place the name he's heard dozens of times before. Suddenly, his eyes grow wide and I know it clicked.
"Edmond Mills? As in the owner of the PR firm you've always wanted to work for, Edmond Mills?"
"That's the one."
"Wait. You’re talking about Edmond Mills, the owner of the PR firm you've always wanted to work for, and who rejected your application without even bringing you in for an interview, Edmond Mills?"
"Yes, but apparently now he's seen the error of his ways, because Amelia just called me on personal behalf of Mr. Mills to offer me an interview."
"Seriously?"
"Yes! I go in tomorrow morning. By the way she talked about it, though, the interview is pretty much just a formality. She says that Mr. Mills is extremely interested in my work, and looks forward to having the opportunity to discuss with me the contributions I could make to his team."
I'm trying to use my best prim and proper voice to emulate Amelia, but I'm still too excited to pull it off.
"That's amazing," Joe says. "Congratulations! I'm so happy things are starting to work out for you."
"I have to admit I was starting to think they never would. I mean, I know it's only been a couple of months, but…"
"I know," he says. "I can see how hard this has been for you. But I want you to know I'm amazed by how well you've been handling this entire situation, and I'm really proud of you."
"Really?" I ask.
"Of course, Julie. Your life went through a major detour this year, but you're still moving right along. You're handling it with a lot more dignity and strength than I think most people would."
"I guess I'm just used to things not going the way I plan them to now," I say. "Anyway, I have to figure out what I'm going to wear to this interview with this baby belly."
I start toward my room, then hesitate.
"What's wrong" he asks.
"I have to tell him I'm pregnant," I say. "I can't hide it from them, then suddenly spring it on him in a couple of months and act like I didn't know."
"No, that probably wouldn't work out for you. But what's the problem?"
"Do you think it'll change how they look at me? Maybe they won’t be receptive to a single woman who's pregnant working for them. Or maybe they'll think because I'm pregnant I won't be able to dedicate myself to the job. They might not like the idea of having to give me maternity leave in less than six months. Then, after the baby is born, they’ll automatically assume I won't be able to devote as much time and energy to my clients."
I’m starting to panic, and Joe can see it. He comes toward me and takes me by the shoulders, giving me a gentle shake to break me out of my escalating anxieties.
"Julie, stop. You're getting yourself all worked up before even setting foot in the office. If he's so interested in your work that he had his secretary call and personally offer you an interview, he might already know about the baby. And if he doesn't, he isn't going to completely melt down about it. Working mothers are the norm these days. You'll talk about it and figure it out. If he really does want you on his team as badly as it seems he does, this isn't going to dissuade him."
"Thanks, Joe. I needed to hear that. That makes me feel a lot better."
"I know. It's my job."
I smile at him, then head back toward my bedroom. I have finally finished unpacking, and I open up my closet to look at my clothes, so I can choose what to wear the next morning. Looking at the rows of neatly hung skirts, slacks, and tops slightly dampens my excitement. Even looking at these outfits reminds me of Shane. These are clothes he bought me as part of what he called my expense account. It was a kind and generous gesture then, but now it's just a reminder how quickly everything changed between us. As soon as I bring in a paycheck, I'll dip into my bonus a little more and replace my wardrobe. If I'm truly going to be independent and stand on my own two feet, I need to do it with my own clothes, and not those bought for me by a man I once loved. Maybe I still do.
A realization hits me as I look around at what was once my nursery, then my childhood bedroom, and now my adult bedroom – for the second time. My wardrobe isn't my only obstacle to being truly independent and living my own life. But I'll deal with that later. One step at a time, right?
The next morning…
Walking into the Mills Firm, I have an unpleasant flashback to the week I moved to Pennsylvania, and the humiliation I faced. As I take my first few steps through the lobby, though, I realized I haven't thought about that in months. I no longer feel the anger toward Mr. Bronson. I'm not even ashamed of what happened. His absurd behavior isn't a reflection on me. If anything, I feel bad for the fact that those types of games are still a part of his life at his age. One day it'll all come back to bite him in the ass.
I'm also acutely aware that if that never happened, I wouldn't be where I am now. I never would have gotten angry and lost and wandered into the coffee shop. I never would have gotten a job as a barista, which put me in the position to meet Mr. Slidell, and get hired as his secretary. I never would have been forced to face Shane again, and then hired as his rep. I never would have fallen in love with him, slept with him, and now be carrying his child. Though this isn’t what I expected, or anything close to the plan I had for myself, it's my life now, and I'm grateful for it. I could do without the pain, the loneliness, and the uncertainty about my future, but the moments of happiness are more than worth it. I only wish this felt more like a beginning, than an ending. As excited as I am for this opportunity, and proud of myself for accomplishing something I've always wanted, I know taking this job officially brings the Pennsylvania chapter of my life to a close – not that it ever really had a chance to get started.
My thoughts fade when I see a man, who I assume is Mr. Mills, come around a corner and into the lobby. His face lights up when he sees me – surprising, considering we’ve never met before. When I applied to the firm two years ago, I never even got to the interview stage. Now he's grinning at me like he's reconnecting with a lost friend. No matter the reason behind it, the smile puts me at ease. His round face is cheerful and sincere, and his suit makes me grin. There's something about a rich man wearing a suit that's just a little too tight around the middle that makes him less intimidating.
Mr. Mills extends his hand toward me and I shake it.
"Julie, it's so good to meet you. Thanks for coming in."
"Thank you for having me," I say. "I must say, it was a very nice surprise to get that call."
"Amelia was going to come and bring you to my office, but I decided I wanted to meet you myself. Come on, we'll go talk for a bit."
He's acting far more casual than I expected, and I'm not sure if I am unhappy about it or not. I like that he's putting me at ease and making me feel less nervous, but at the same time I almost feel like he brought me in on a whim and might forget all about this tomorrow. That seems to be the type of personality he has. For a moment I think about the strange contrast between the man I'm meeting now and the impression I had of him when I first applied to work at the firm. Then a strange thought strikes me.
How did he know to call me? How does he know anything about my career, unless he knows I worked with Shane? And if that's the case, why did it take him this long to get in touch with me?
My head is full of unanswered questions by the time we reach the top of the building, and the elevators open, revealing a reception desk and a massive pair of doors behind it. Mr. Mills guides me past the desk where a woman, presumably Amelia, looks up at me. I wave, and she smiles in return. Mr. Mills opens one of the large doors, and we walk through the doorway into a sprawling private office. Based on the overt jubilance of his personality, I almost expected a bubble maker and gumball machine to be a part of the décor. Instead, this office looks exactly like I expected the office of a powerful and successful man to. The room is a study in dark woods, leather, and green accents. A green glass lamp reminiscent of those found in old libraries is perched on the corner of the elaborate carved-wood desk. On one wall, pristine liquor bottles and decanters reflect against the glass of a built-in bar, and on the other, a high-end leather sofa and chairs are positioned around a sleek coffee table.
I expect Mr. Mills to go sit behind his desk, but instead he makes his way toward the couch. When I don't follow, he looks over his shoulder and gestures for me to come sit with him.
"Why don't we sit over here? It'll be much more comfortable for our chat."
If the large door to his office wasn't wide open, and I couldn't see Amelia, I would have been nervous by the invitation. Not seeming to notice the oddness of his request, Mr. Mills sits on the sofa and holds out his hand in invitation for me to do the same. I take my place, and he smiles a little wider at me.
"Do you have any questions about the position?" he asks.
"I am a little curious about how you heard about me. I don't know if you remember, but I applied to work here about two years ago, and you rejected me on application."
"Did we?" he asks. "Our recruiter must not have recognized the potential right in front of us. I'm sorry about that, and for all the lost time you could have been on my team."
"So, Mr. Mills, how did you hear about me? If you didn’t even know that I applied here, how are you so confident about my qualifications?"
"A little birdie told me," he says. Then he chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm kidding. You actually come highly recommended, though don't tell anybody I told you that. Your reference wanted to remain anonymous."
"Who?" I ask.
Mr. Mills shrugs mischievously, a twinkle in his eye.
"Alright," I say. "But is that the only reason you called me in for this interview? I was recommended?"
"Well, obviously there's more to it than that. I'm not going to pretend I don't know you recently worked with Shane Lawson. Everybody in town knows about that, though. That's an extremely impressive qualification, considering the dramatic improvement you were able to make to his public image in such a short time. That's the kind of ability I need on my team."
His answer makes sense, and the uncertainty I was feeling disappears.
"Thank you for answering," I say. "I am thrilled to be here, and to interview for this position."
Mr. Mills laughs as if that’s funniest thing he's heard all day.
"There's no interview, Julie."
Shit. This can't seriously be happening again.
"There's not?" I ask. "But Amelia said –"
"No, don't misunderstand. Amelia told you over the phone to come in for an interview as a formality. But to be honest, I have no question at all about you working for the firm. So, if you're willing, I will go ahead and say you're hired."
I want to sign the contract right now, but I still have to broach the subject of the baby. I can't let myself get too invested in this idea until I have talked that through with him.
"I'm flattered Mr. Mills, and I appreciate the offer more than I can tell you. But there is something I need to discuss with you before we make anything official."
"Is something wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing wrong, no. I just feel it's important I tell you that I'm pregnant."
His expression barely changes.
"Congratulations!" he exclaims. "A new baby is a wonderful thing."
"Thank you very much," I say.
"How far along are you?"
"I'm due at the end of April," I tell him.
"Then you'll probably need to go on maternity leave starting… the beginning of March?"
"The beginning of March?" I ask. "That's a long time before the baby will be here. I don't think I’ll need that much time."
"Of course, you will. Taking care of yourself at the end of your pregnancy is extremely important. You want to make sure that baby comes into the world with a happy, healthy, rested mama, don't you?"
"Yes," I say cautiously.
"Then it's settled. You'll start your maternity leave the first of March and return at the beginning of July. With pay, of course. Does that sound acceptable to you?"
"It's more than acceptable. It’s amazing. Thank you."
"Is there anything else you want to talk about?"
"No," I say, shaking my head.
At this point I feel like I've already gotten away with far more than I would have expected. I'm not going to roll the dice again.
"Wonderful. Then I can officially say, welcome aboard! I think this is going to be a wonderful arrangement for both of us."
He extends his hand to me again, and I shake it.
"So do I," I tell him with a wide smile. "Thank you very much."
"No, thank you, Julie. I look forward to seeing you in action. Now, let's go meet some of the people you'll be working with."
We make our way out and down the stairs to the floor directly underneath his. He introduces me to a few other reps as they walk past us in the hall, before stopping in front of a closed private office
"And this," he says, then takes a dramatic pause, "is yours."
He opens the door, but I stay put in the hallway.
"My office?" I ask. "I get my own office?"
"Of course, you do. I can't put you in a chair in the corner and hope for the best. Why don't you come inside and have a look?"
I step into the office and am immediately blown away. It's gorgeous. The room is tastefully decorated in cool tones and filled with sparkling light from huge windows on one wall. This is a far cry from snatching old pastries and drinking bitter, day-old coffee at the Water Cooler.
"It's fantastic," I say.
"I'm glad you like it. Now, let's go meet Adrienne."
"Who's Adrienne?" I ask, following him out of the office toward a collection of cubicles in one of the open areas.
"Your assistant."
I stop in my tracks. What.
"My assistant?"
Mr. Mills turns around. He nods.
"Yes," he says. "You're going to be too busy with clients to handle everything yourself. I don’t want you to waste your valuable time managing calendars or setting appointments or making coffee runs."
I don't know how I feel about sending someone else to get coffee. It seems strange. It feels like I'm cheating.
Two weeks later…
"I've only been working here for two weeks," I protest.
"So?" Adrienne asks.
She holds the keys out to me, a nonchalant expression on her face. I look over at the little black car parked in the spot in front of us. The 'reserved' sign in the front highlights how bizarre this whole situation is.
"So, people don't get company cars after they've worked somewhere for two weeks. It just doesn't happen. Why would Mr. Mills do this?"
She shrugs.
"I really don't know. He told me it was going to be delivered today, gave me the keys, and told me to show it to you when it arrived. You'll have to talk to him."
"Do you have a car?" I ask.
"One of my own? Yes. One that the company provided for me? No."
"How long have you worked here?"
"Five years."
What the hell is going here?
"I'm going to go talk to him."
I walk back inside and feel my muscles relax in response to the heat embracing my chilled skin. To warm myself up further, I stomp up the stairs rather than take the elevator. Finally, I make it to Mr. Mills’ office, knock once and hear him tell me to come in. As soon as I walk through the door, he grins.
"Hi, Julie", he says. "How's your day going?"
"Well, I just got here fifteen minutes ago. So, it's going fairly well. I just have a question to ask you."
"What can I do for you?"
"That's kind of the point. You're doing way too much for me."
"What do you mean?"
"Adrienne just showed me the company car you arranged for me."
"That's not a company car," he says. "It's yours."
"Why would you get me a car? I've only worked here for two weeks. She's been here five years and doesn't have a car. "
"She’s also your assistant. Adrienne doesn't have the education, background, or responsibilities you do, Julie."
"I don't think it’s fair, though."
"That you got a special perk she didn't?"
I think about this for a second.
"Yes, actually."
"Well, I've noticed the car you drive to work is older, and it doesn't seem too reliable. I want you to be able to get to work without worrying. It's really a selfish move, if you think about it."
"But like I said, it's not just that. You gave me an incredible office, an assistant, and then doubled the maternity leave I expected? I've only been here for two weeks. I don't understand how this is fair to my co-workers."
"Julie, I admire your dedication to fairness. I appreciate that you want to make sure everyone in the office gets the recognition they deserve. I want to assure you – I approach compensation and rewards for my team on an individual basis. That's why it might look like others aren't receiving the same level of compensation as you. You might not have noticed, but they are rewarded according to performance. Some were awarded a large cash bonus at their contract signing. For you, I opted to go for practical rewards. You are an exceptional asset to this firm, so you deserve your office. That much is obvious from the last project you worked on. The car will give you reliable, comfortable transportation both for work, and for when your child arrives.”
"I planned one event for a client—"
Mr. Mills puts up a hand to stop me. "And they were extremely pleased with it. You are everything I could have wanted in a new rep, Julie, and I never want you to question that you’re valued here."
"Thank you," I say. "It really does mean a lot to me."
"Good. Now have you driven your car, yet?"
"No. I left the keys with Adrienne."
Mr. Mills laughs.