Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year? After taxes, that’s still over twenty thousand dollars a month. A month!
When I made it back to my apartment, I decided to walk through the front entrance. As suspected, my landlord had changed the locks while I was away, so I slid a condom packet between the loose lock frame and used my bobby pin to jiggle it open.
“Hey there, roomie!” My roommate Ava rolled across our oversized bean bags, setting aside her glossy gossip magazine. “How are you today?”
“Great! I’ve got good news!” I shut the door and stuffed a towel under the gap. “Guess what it is?”
“I’ll guess, but you have to listen to my good news first. I’ve got two amazing things!”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay.” She sat up. “You know how I’ve been stealing toilet paper from my job for our apartment?”
“Yeah …”
“Well, the manager just switched from the terrible sandpapery brand to the two-ply soft kind, so we are about to be wiping our asses with some grade-A sheets from now on.” She smiled proudly. “I already nabbed six rolls and put them in the closet, so let me know when you notice the difference.”
“Will do.” I laughed. “What’s the other thing?”
“I paid our rent this afternoon, but that asshole had already changed the locks, so he says he’ll get us a new key if we pay the next month on time.”
“He’s not going to get us a key to the current lock at all?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He says we seem to do just fine getting in and out without the right keys. He did ask me if he could borrow a few packs of condoms, though.”
We both laughed, and I plopped onto our sofa.
“Anyway, you look like you’re about to burst with your good news.” She stood to her feet. “Let me try to guess some smaller things before you explode with it, though.”
“Go ahead.”
“Guess one. Did you finally break up with your boyfriend, whom I hate with every fiber of my being because he’s not good enough for you?”
“No …”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask.” She smiled. “Guess two. Did you figure out the new password to our neighbor’s wi-fi?”
“Actually, yeah, I did.” I nodded. “It’s Stop stealing my shit, you thieving ass bitches.”
“Are there any spaces in that, or is that all one word?”
“It’s all one word.”
“Let me try it.” She picked up her phone and tapped the screen a few times. “Perfect! It works! Now, what’s your real good news?”
“I got my first career job today!” The words fell out my mouth faster than ever. “Like, an actual salaried job with benefits, relocation expenses, and paid vacation time. And on my way home, the HR director sent me an email saying that they’re going to give me a nine thousand dollar advance against my next check!”
“What?” She jumped up and down. “Really?”
“Yes!” I wiped a few tears from my eyes. “I was hired on the spot, and my salary is so ridiculous, that I still can’t believe it.”
“Is it eighty-thousand a year?”
“No, higher.”
“One hundred and twenty?”
“Even higher.”
“Um …” She looked stunned. “One hundred and fifty?”
“Three hundred and fifty!”
We both screamed at the same time, and without any prompting, we did what we always did whenever there was a rare cause to celebrate. She took out a bottle of cheap champagne, and I took out our freezer’s most prized possession: Dean & DeLuca cookie dough.
“Give me the play by play,” she said, uncorking the bottle. “Did the Russ Stock Exchange make you think they weren’t going to hire you before they brought out the contract? Was there clapping once you signed it?”
“This isn’t for the Russ Stock Exchange. That’s a story for a different day.” I waited until she’d poured both glasses, until she’d raised hers for a celebratory sip. “You are now looking at the new personal assistant—No, wait. The executive assistant to Preston Parker, the CEO of Preston International.”
“What?” She spat out her champagne. “What did you just say?”
“I’m the new executive assistant to Preston Parker at Preston Hotels. Or is it Parker Hotels?”
“It’s definitely Parker Hotels.” She set her glass down and didn’t look so thrilled anymore. She looked terrified.
“You’re not happy for me now?” I asked. “I know the title isn’t exactly legal advisor, but being his executive assistant covers a full realm of responsibilities and they require a business or law degree. They even said that if I do a good job, I can move to his legal department within three years.”
“Look.” She shook her head and let out a breath. “As your best friend, I’m beyond happy that you finally got a job, but I don’t think we should be celebrating this one.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re about to work for Preston Parker. Preston. Parker.”
I gave her a blank stare.
“You had no idea who he was before today, did you?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Is he more than a CEO?”
She sighed and walked over to her extensive magazine collection, tossing me five copies of Mister New York and three copies of Page Six.
His beautiful face was plastered on each cover—making me realize he was even sexier in person, but the headlines on Page Six were far from flattering.
Mister New York wins big again, but one of his former assistants tells all. Mister New York tramples his competition, leaves another assistant in the dust. Mister New York makes every new assistant sign an NDA after leaving latest one stranded in Paris.
“So, he’s a celebrity?” I asked.
“No, he’s a mogul. A filthy rich and completely arrogant mogul.” She flopped onto the bean bags. “If you would ever join me in reading the gossip rags here and there, you would’ve run like hell the second he offered you that job.”
“Even when he offered three hundred and fifty thousand a year?”
“Who says you’ll last a year?” She pointed to the magazines. “Read them. Now.”
I flipped through the pages of the first magazine, feeling my chest tighten with each printed word, feeling my heart race with uncertainty.
“He’s a ruthless asshole. Coldhearted boss. Worst boss I’ve ever worked for. The only good thing about him is the view, until he opens his mouth.”
I flipped through an issue from a couple of years ago where he was giving his “final interview” and I thought for sure it would cast him in a better light, but I felt my jaw unhinging as I read the first few lines of the transcript.
Interviewer: How does it feel to be a top-five finalist for the Mister New York award again, Mr. Parker?
Mr. Parker: I feel like I should always be in the top two, and I should never be number two.
Interviewer: Well, Reeve Henderson of NYB is also having one hell of a year, sir.
Mr. Parker: Reeve Henderson is a multimillionaire. I’m a billionaire.