Her first job in New York City took her to the forty-eighth floor of a modern mid-town highrise. Content, she settled behind her clean, new desk for a quiet afternoon of typing cover letters to send, slong with her resume, to other companies. Nervously, she glanced up to be sure no one was rounding the corner. She took a deep breath and began to relax. Her very own desk, neat and modern with ample draws in which to hide her portfolios and resumes, as well as purse, sneakers, sugar packets, coffee stirrers, straws and make-up. Plenty of supplies, too. She took a personal inventory: white-out (high on the priority list), stapler, pens, yellow markers, sophisticated letterhead stationery and envelopes. What more could one want? Oh, yes and a touchtone telephone to dial anywhere in the country, anywhere in the world, on the mega-corporation's necessary Watt's line. She assumed they had one. Ring! The touchtone telephone burst into her thoughts.
"Debbie?"
"Yes?"
"Could you come over to my desk? I have something for you to do."
"See all these control documents? Look up the company names in the file cabinet. When you're finished, I have some filing for you to do," Elyse said.
She reluctantly lugged the stack of hanging file folders back to her desk. She sighed as she surveyed the snot green "pendaflex" folders. Ring!
"Debbie, can you come back over to my desk?" Translation into Corporate Communication: "You will come over to my desk, won't you? Do you like your job? Do you want to keep your job?" Debbie stifled a giggle.
"Hi, I'm Amanda. I have another stack for you. I'd be glad to bring it over to your desk."
At that precise moment, she is stopped cold in the wake of hanging green file folders, control documents and unfamiliar overseas addresses. Unaware of it, she is staring at a very young, very cute corporate co-worker. She has never seen someone this, well, young, she guesses it is, in all her travels from the first floor personnel office to the sixtieth floor executive suite and what were you saying, Amanda?
Two fellow executives take note of her corporate navy blue skirt and white blouse and exchange glances. But she doesn't notice. Corporate life as she knows it fades from view as she tilts her head ever so slightly to one side. She raises her widened blue eys toward her new corporate counterpart.
"Hi, I'm Scott McFadden," he smiles, tossing his sandy locks from his eyes and extending his hand. There is an important sound to his voice, she realizes subconsciously.
"Ohhh." she says slowly. "I'm Debbie. It's nice to meet you!" She continues in polite amazement, giving him a small smile.
"Oh, I didn't realize," Amanda laughs nervously, excusing herself for not making the introduction.
But Debbie and this new person are oblivious to any glances or comments made by anyone around them, at this moment, as their hands fall slowly back to their sides.
