Chapter 62: Chapter 62

I wait for Coach Tammy to go to work before I get up. I pull into the parking lot of the NSA and remember Scott walking me to my car after our press conference. The office structure looks different in the day, more impressive. It’s chillier outside and remembering him is like a bitter pill that I have to shake off before straightening my shoulders and walking into the building with every bit of pride and dignity I can muster. This is the first day to the rest of my life, a brand-new start. I’m grateful to Michael for giving me this opportunity to recreate myself.

The lobby is empty with the exception of a young guy with red hair and speckles of acne covering his face, standing at the information booth between two sets of elevators.

He acknowledges me curtly, “You’re looking for?”

“Michael Anderson office please.”

He points to his right, “Take that elevator up to the top floor. There’s only two there, you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” I follow his directions and find myself standing in front of a fancy wooden door with Michael’s nameplate displayed on it. I tap lightly and then push it open. His secretary is expecting me, she looks down at her watch and then at me, “Isabella Brandon? Your right on time,” she smiles at me approvingly, “go right in.”

“Thank you,” I say walking passed her. I open the doors to find Michael on the phone. He holds his finger up indicating he will be another minute. I help myself to the black leather chair located in front of his desk and admire him as he speaks with whomever on the phone. He sure did mature since we first started dating. He seems a lot more responsible. Everyone says he’s nicer too, but I haven’t spent much time with him so it is hard for me to judge. He places the phone down on its receiver and stands to greet me, “Isabella!”

I get up from the chair and watch as he approaches me, unsure whether he is going to hug me or shake my hand. He choses the professional route and shakes my hand, “Michael.”

“I don’t know what swayed your decision but welcome to NSA,” he greets. He returns to his seat behind his grand mahogany desk and slides a large brown envelope in my direction, “This is your offer of employment, I had HR draw it up early last week. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your new office.”

“My new office? I thought I was going to be working in Owerri?”

“You will still have an office here. The majority of planning for the show will take place in Lagos. We will fly you out to Owerri just before the show starts. If we don’t get approval for the show, you will still have a position at NSA. It’s all outlined in our letter of employment. A contract is attached to the back of the letter that has to be signed and witnessed. I will show you to your new office where you can review it at your leisure and then I will have you sign the offer in front of me and Mrs. Abigail. Again, take as long as you need to review it.”

“Thank you,” I say as I start following Michael out of his office door. He presses the button and we wait for the elevator to come. He glances over at me, “You look sharp,” he compliments before looking at the number above the lift.

“As do you,” I smile. I want to tell him that he should be really proud of himself, he’s obviously come a long way since high school, but it doesn’t seem appropriate. The elevator arrives and I step on first. He reaches for the button and hits the number fourteen which is just below Penthouse. When we step off the elevator, I notice there are only four offices on this floor. He leads me to the door that is the farthest left from the elevator. There is a plaque with my name on it just like his. I stroke it tenderly with my fingertips, “Beautiful,” I comment.

He unlocks the door giving me my own key, “So you can come and go as you please. Here is also a pass card to get into the building.” He places it gently in my hand and then opens the impressive wooden doors leading into my office. This is so exciting! He steps aside so I can walk passed him and admire my new office. It is stunning. My desk is solid glass and my chair is white leather with diamond tuck. Instead of having an office light I have a chandelier with crystals, something you would see in a dining room. I love it!

“It’s gorgeous Michael, it’s so not what I was expecting!” “You approve,” he asks hesitantly.

“I love it!” I repeat excitedly.

“That door to your left is your personal bathroom, and the door to your right is a small pantry for business guests. We’ve kept the walls painted white until you choose a colour. We can have it painted over the weekend or anytime you are out of the office. I’ll leave you alone to get familiar with your contract. Once you are ready to sign, we’ll meet back in my office and then I’ll send you down to H.R. Do you have any questions?”

I bite my lip, not because I have questions, but because I feel like I have to make sure I’m not dreaming, “Yes, how do I contact you when I’m ready?”

“Just dial my extension directly, 7985. It’s a back line so Mrs. Abigail won’t pick it up. If you need to speak to her, the extension is 7986. Do you need me to write it down?”

“No, I think I’m good.”

He turns to the door, “I will wait to hear from you then.” He walks out, the door closes loudly behind him. I walk over to the window to open the blinds. I have a view of the Tower. I open the bathroom expecting it to be small but on the contrary, it was very modern looking with a stand-up shower. How much overtime did they expect from me? I get excited after seeing the bathroom, I can’t wait to see the pantry. To my disappointment it only had a small fridge and an area to keep alcohol, wine and whisky glasses and some type of panel. I start fidgeting with the panel until it finally pops off and hidden behind it is a full-sized microwave. Wow! I’m impressed.

I stroll leisurely back to my desk to start reading over my offer letter. I use the letter opener near my pen holder. The pen holder is a figurine of a pair couple. It is a thoughtful touch. I started reading the offer until I get to the second paragraph.

Nigerian Skating Association 1234 Front Street,

Victoria Island Lagos M2M 2M2

Dear Mrs. Isabella Moyes-Brandon

Congratulations! We are pleased to confirm you have been selected to work for the Nigerian Skating Association/Publicity Department. We are delighted to make you the following job offer. The position we are offering is that of Communications Director at a salary of $275K a year including a company vehicle of our choice. The NSA will insure you under their fleet insurance and provide routine maintenance to your vehicle.

This position reports to Michael and Ted Anderson. You will be expected to work Monday to Friday from 9:00 A.M to 5:00 P.M

Future travel is a strong possibility. All travel and living expenses outside of Victoria Island will by provided for you by the Association.

This is a contract position with the expected length of a two-year term. Benefits information relevant to the position are as follows:

Vacation - 5 weeks in the first year

- 6 weeks in the second year Probation 15/10/15-15/01/16

Employee Benefits Include: Group Insurance, MSP, Short/Long Term Disability, Dental and Health care.

We would like you to start work immediately. Please notify me when you are ready to sign the enclosed documents and we will meet in my office.

We are confident you will be able to make a significant contribution to the success of the Nigerian Skating Association and look forward to working with you.

Sincerely,

Michael Anderson Vice President

I had to read it twice! I know Michael told me his father has a generous budget, but really? Really? Oh my God! I dig through my purse for my phone just to calculate what that comes to each week. The answer is obscene, even at a 50% tax deduction! I storm back to Michael’s office with letter in hand. Mrs. Abigail wasn’t at her desk so I fly passed it and open the double doors. The abrupt noise startles Michael, who happens to be on the phone. He looks taken aback by my entry. He says into the receiver, “Bill, I’ll have to call you back.” He hangs up the phone and if looks can kill, I’m bludgeoned and laying on his carpet right now.

“Its courtesy to knock quietly before entering, where’s Mrs. Abigail? “Michael scolds.

“She’s not there. Why are you doing this?” “Doing what?” he asks sternly.

“You’re offering: this obscene salary, this fancy office, the title, and a CAR! Is it your way of getting back into my bed, because if it is, it’s not going to work! I don’t want the job. You can’t buy me! You’re an asshole if you think that’s all it will take.”

“You might want to calm down, maybe have a think before you ever storm into my office like this again. Let me remind you that you are on probation and even if you aren’t, your insubordination is grounds for dismissal. I remind you that you are an Olympic Gold medalist. Having your name on our roster is worth more than $275K. You are going to draw people to us, you’ll be working with networks and possibly producing a reality television show that will put the word sport back into figure skating. You might want to google what television producers make or look into your earning potential from royalties should you have chosen to do shows and commercials instead of signing our contract."

"The first five years after winning Olympic Gold is when you are at your maximum earning potential. We will be taking two of those years away. Finally, I have worked hard for this position and I don’t use my power to get anyone into my bed. That would be considered sexual harassment, and I take offence to that. Do you think I am capable of such an indecency? I have never treated you with anything but respect, and I expect that courtesy to be returned in the workplace, are we clear?”

I deserve the reprimand and I know it. I want to shrink, no, I want to become invisible, “I’m sorry.” My cheeks feel flaming hot. I just want to get out of there before I cry. I turn and start for the door but he grabs my wrist stopping me from leaving, “Don’t be. Take the rest of the day off and decide if you want to work here.”

“I do,” I say without hesitation.

“Are you sure,” he asks slightly less angry than before. “Yes.”

“Then let’s wait for Mrs. Abigail to get back so you can sign the papers.

Go to HR after that and then you can go home. I want to see you 9:00 A.M. tomorrow morning in my office so we can start planning the proposal.”

I went home. Thinking of a way to break the news to coach. I don’t know how he’s going to take the news. He thinks I was sick, at least that’s what I texted him after he went to work. I don’t want him waiting for me and me not to show up. I order his favorite takeout and wait impatiently by the door. It is a late night for him and he doesn’t get home until eight. He works thirteen hours today.

He walked in and gives me a friendly hug, “Feeling any better?”

“About that,” I say.

He stops, “You have something to tell me?”

“You’re too wise,” I tease.

“Can you tell me while I eat? I’m starving.”

“Sure, I got your favorite takeout.”

“You’re a doll,” he says patting my shoulder.

He loads his plate and takes his proverbial chair in front of the television, “I won’t put it on until you tell me what you need to.”

“I’ve been offered a job at NSA.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” He takes the remote and turns on the t.v. He starts flicking through channels looking for something to watch, then he begins eating. He didn’t look or say anything to me, “That’s all?” I ask indignantly. “Aren’t you going to ask me about it?”

“It’s old news Isa. I knew the offer was on the table weeks ago. Anderson warned me you might be leaving me to work for him. He did it as a courtesy, no surprises. You know gossip in the skating world travels fast.”

“Michael called you?”

“No, the father called me. I think his name is Ted.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He swore me to secrecy. I was protecting you. What if they decided against offering you the position and you had your heart set on it?”

“Thanks, I think.”

“You can stay here even if you’re not working for me,” he offers. It’s the first time I see him as almost a father figure.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all, you’re a pleasure to live with.” “Thanks. The feeling is mutual!”

I decided to post my new position under place of employment on Facebook.

Isabella changed her work status: Place of Employment: Nigerian Skating Association: Communications Director. I turn my phone off and watch television with Coach. When I turn it back on, I checked Facebook and my posting has 15 likes. Scott isn’t one of them and I hate that I care.