I called Will.
‘Okay. I’ll write to Kelly and ask for some more information about what it entails. Can you just give me her email address?’
Will snorted. ‘Her what?’ He refused to buy so much as an answering machine, so a computer was definitely out of the question. He typed all his columns on a clanking typewriter and had one of his assistants key it into Microsoft Word. When it came time for him to edit, he’d stand over her shoulder, press his finger to the computer screen, and command her to delete, add, and expand the text as he watched.
‘The special computer address where I can write her an electronic letter,’ I said slowly.
‘You’re adorable, you really are. Bette, don’t be ridiculous. Why would you need that? I’ll have her call you to set a starting date.’
‘Don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves, Will? It might be better if I sent her a résumé first, and then if she likes it, we can take it from there. That’s how it usually works, you know.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard that,’ he said, sounding more and more disinterested. ‘Time wasting at its best. You’d be perfect for the job because you’ve honed those banking skills – detail-oriented, anal-retentive, deadline-adherent. And I know she’s a great girl because she used to be my assistant. I’ll just give her a little call and let her know how lucky she’d be to have you. Not a thing to worry about, my dear.’
‘I didn’t know she was your assistant!’ I said, mentally trying to calculate Kelly’s age.
‘Indeed. I had her straight out of college. Hired her as a favor to her father. Best thing I ever did – she was bright and motivated and got me organized, and I, in turn, trained her from scratch. She went on to work at People and then switched to PR. She’ll welcome you aboard. Trust me.’
‘Okay,’ I said with not a little hesitation. ‘If you think so.’
‘I know so, darling. Consider it done. I’ll have her call you to discuss the details, but I anticipate no problems whatsoever. As long as you edit that wardrobe of yours to eliminate all skirt suits – and anything that looks like a skirt suit – I think everything will be just fine.’
Kelly herself was waiting in the building’s lobby and embraced me like a long-lost friend when I arrived for my first day as instructed, at exactly nine A.M.
‘Bette, honey, we’re so happy to have you with us!’ she breathed, casting a quick glance over my outfit. A fleeting, wide-eyed look – not quite panic, closer to distress – passed over her face before she fixed on a broad smile and led me by the hand to the elevator.
I’d had the good sense to avoid a full suit, but it wasn’t until I’d caught a quick glimpse of everyone else’s attire that I realized I still hadn’t calculated correctly. Apparently my notion of business casual (cuffed charcoal gray pants, baby blue Oxford shirt, and understated low heels) differed slightly from that of the rest of the staff at Kelly & Company. The office was a sprawling downtown space with floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded views all the way down to Wall Street and west to New Jersey, giving it a decidedly loft-like feel. Around a large circular table sat a half-dozen people; each and every one, without exception, possessed unnervingly good looks and wore all black. The most malnourished-looking of the girls called out to Kelly, ‘Page Six for comment on prenup trend, line two,’ and Kelly motioned for me to take a seat before reaching up and adjusting what looked like a very tiny earpiece. A second later she was greeting someone on the other line with giggles and compliments while pacing the length of the southern-facing windows. I sat next to the super-skinny girl and turned to introduce myself but found myself staring at her hand, one finger of which pointed upward in a clear sign that I should wait. It was then that I noticed that each person around the table was chatting enthusiastically at the exact same time, although it didn’t appear that they were talking to each other. It took me another moment to see that they all had tiny wireless phones tucked into their ears. I didn’t know then that in a few short weeks I would feel completely naked – exposed! – without that phone constantly attached to the side of my face … right then it just looked weird. The girl nodded gravely a few times and glanced in my direction, muttering something indecipherable. I politely looked away and waited for someone to notice me.
‘Hello? Hello? What did you say your name was?’ I heard her ask as I surveyed the rest of the group. It was a surprisingly even split between guys and girls, their primary commonality being the level of almost-disturbing attractiveness among them. I was beginning to stare when I felt a tap on my back.
‘Hey,’ the skinny one said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Me?’ I dumbly asked, convinced she was still on the phone.
She laughed. Not nicely. ‘Who else’s name do you think I don’t know here? I’m Elisa.’ The hand she held out was ice-cold and very, very thin. I watched a diamond right-hand ring swing around her emaciated middle finger in little loops before I remembered to respond.
‘Oh, hi. I’m Bette. Bette Robinson. It’s my first day.’
‘Yeah, I heard. Well, welcome aboard. Kelly’s not likely to get off that call anytime soon, so why don’t I introduce you around?’ She worked her wavy reddish-blond hair into a messy topknot and secured it from underneath with a claw clip. A few strands in front fell out and she tucked them behind her ear. She felt to make sure that the hair was sprouting just so from the clip in that cool, casual way I always tried to achieve but could never manage, and then she stuck a pair of oversized black plastic sunglasses on her head to hold everything together. I could see from the silver G’s that they were Gucci. She was effortlessly chic, and I had the feeling I could simply watch her forever.
Elisa walked to the far end of the table and flicked the light switch three times in quick succession. Immediately I heard a chorus of voices announcing to their headsets that a very important person was calling for them on the other line, and could they call back in just a few moments? Almost simultaneously, six manicured hands reached toward six ears and removed six earpieces, and within seconds, Elisa had commanded the complete attention of the entire room without saying a word.
‘Hey, everyone, this is Bette Robinson. She’ll be working primarily with Leo and me, so try not to give her a hard time, okay?’
Nods all around.
‘Hi,’ I said, my voice sounding squeaky.
‘That’s Skye,’ Elisa started, pointing at an edgy-looking girl in dark indigo jeans, a tight, long-sleeved black T-shirt, a two-inch-thick leather belt with a massive jeweled buckle, and the most fabulous pair of broken-in cowboy boots I’d ever seen. She was pretty enough to pull off her ultra-boyish short haircut, which only complemented her curvy, feminine figure. Again, I just wanted to sit and stare, but I managed to say hello, and Skye returned my greeting with an enigmatic smile. ‘Skye’s working on the Kooba bag account right now,’ Elisa said before turning her pointing finger on the next person. ‘That’s Leo, the other senior person besides me. And now you,’ she added in a tone I couldn’t quite identify.
‘Hi, honey, nice to meet you,’ Leo said, standing up from his chair to kiss me on the cheek. ‘Always glad to have another pretty face in the office.’ He turned to Elisa and said, ‘Sorry, sweets, but I’ve got to run and meet the Diesel jeans guy for a late breakfast. Tell Kelly for me?’ She nodded as he slung a messenger bag across his chest and bolted toward the door.
‘Davide, say hello to Bette,’ Elisa instructed the only guy left at the table. Davide’s dark eyes peered out broodingly from under heavy eyelashes and a thick lock of dark hair. He ran his fingers through the front part and stared at me.