Chapter 63: Chapter 63

Mrs. Abigail appears to be enjoying her coffee when I show up at five minutes to nine, “Go right in, he’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks,” I say opening both wooden doors.

He’s closing his paper, The Globe and Mail, “I take it you haven’t been to your office yet?”

His question catches me off guard, was I supposed to? “Um No, should I have?”

He presses the intercom button on his phone, “Mrs. Abigail, can you pick up Isabella’s computer from her office?”

“Sure Mr. Anderson.”

“You bought me a computer?” I gush.

“The NSA provides you with one. I did not personally, no.”

I can’t wipe the stupid smile of excitement off my face. He must think I’m an idiot. I might as well give you these before we start working. He digs through his pocket and produces a set of key’s, “As stated in your offer letter, your position comes with a car. It will be delivered to your address later this evening. You will have a designated parking spot downstairs, number three. It’s all part and parcel of the image we expect you to maintain while you work for us.”

“That’s great Michael, thanks.”

Mrs. Abigail taps on the door before letting herself in, “The initial set-up still needs to be done. Do you want me to go ahead and do that while you proceed with your meeting? She can always change the passwords to suit her later.”

“That would be great, thanks Mrs. Abigail.” She leaves us taking my Apple with her.

“She’s very nice,” I comment.

“And efficient,” he adds. “Our first order of business is to put together a proposal for the networks. I mentioned to you earlier that I wanted to do a show focused on training Olympic hopefuls.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” I say trying not to sound overly enthusiastic. “I’ve come up with a few ideas of my own since we last met.”

Michael started doing something on his computer and then turned it around so I could see the monitor, “This is the Olympic arena I was thinking about.”

“In Delta?” I confirm. “Yes.”

“Its beautiful inside, we skated there just before we quit. There’s a cute Olympic Village not far from there, it could house the hopefuls while at the camp.”

“Exactly what I thought,” Michael grins. “What ideas did you to come up with?”

“I thought we could do something along the lines of a ‘reality’ show. We invite the top four female and male competitors in Nigeria so our camp consists of eight skaters total. We start with a skate-off between the girls. First and Second place get to stay on the show. Third place gets paired up with the third place male and whomever comes in fourth place is eliminated entirely. We would do the same for the men. The person who gets eliminated still has a chance to win the top prize if he/she manages to pull off a win at the Olympics. Otherwise whomever places the best in their category wins the prize. In the end, we will have a final show that will announce the winners.”

I looked at Michael expectantly. Now he has this stupid grin on his face that makes him look devilishly handsome, “I love it. How do you want to select the skaters?”

“We can go by last years competition results.”

“That is reasonable, how will you lure them to our camp?”

“You hire the best: jumping, choreography, off-ice instructors, with a monetary prize at the end of the show, and good luck finding one person who will turn it down.”

“Point noted.”

“How are you going to pick the coaches?”

“You promised me Tammy.”

“I did.”

“Well, that leaves choreography, I want Nelly Beezac.”

“And for off-ice?”

“Miles Taylor, it’s a no brainer.”

“Of course,” he teases. “We’ll have cameras on everyone 24/7, even in the Village. You will run the entire camp. If you run into any difficulties, we are a phone call away.”

“So what’s our next step?”

“We take it to the stations. I’ll make a few calls and see what I can set up, you read over your employee manual until I have a time and date set up. I’ll call you when I know.” With that, I’m dismissed. I get up from my chair and head out to see if Mrs. Abigail is finished with my computer. Michael calls me just before noon, “Hi Isa, I have a bite. Global is interested in hearing your pitch. We have a meeting set up for tomorrow at three. We’ll meet her in the lobby at two and take one car.”

“That’s wonderful Michael,” I say calmly before hanging up. I do my Happy Dance! I shake my booty until my ass hits the corner of my desk and I feel this sharp pain on my buttocks. I stop dancing and texted Lara and Anna the news instead. They are over the moon with excitement for me. I manage to keep myself busy googling places around Owerri and coming up with a list of things that need to be done if the idea is approved. When five o’clock rolls around, I can’t wait to drive home to Coach Tammy’s house to see the company vehicle I will be driving in. As luck has it, I’m caught in bumper to bumper traffic and my fifteen-minute ride turns into forty-five minutes.

I kept trying to guess what type of car will be waiting for me, reminding myself that I can’t keep it, it’s a loaner car only while I work there. The car has to be nicer than dad’s shit box which will always hold a special place in my heart. I turned the last corner before arriving at Tammy’s house to see a beautiful pearl white Venza convertible parked in the driveway. I can’t manage to stop tears of happiness springing from my eyes as I see Michael and Coach Tammy waiting for me. My life is finally taking a turn for the better.

I throw dad’s car into park on the side of the road and even after I shut it off, it still continues making choking and sputtering noises, a slow death.

Michael strolled over to my shit box and strokes it with his hand, “Its time to put this baby to rest. It’s done you well.” His gesture makes me cry a little more.

In a completely unprofessional manner, I threw my arms around Michael’s neck and thank him from the bottom of my heart, “It’s beautiful!” He is taken so off guard by my reaction that he sorts of stumbles a bit. I smelt his aftershave when my head nears his chest for a second. He looks down as I looked up, “It’s nice to see you smile,” he comments.

“It’s nice to have something to smile about,” I admit.

Coach Tammy looks over at us, “Come in Anderson, I take it we have something to discuss?”

We follow Coach into his house and he gesture for us to make ourselves comfortable in the living room, “Drinks?”

“What do you have?” Michael asks.

“Whisky, Vodka, Beer, Juices, you name it.” “A Whisky, neat.”

“Isabella?”

“I’ll have the same.”

I have this permanent smile etched on my face, I give up trying to hide it.

Coach comes in with our drinks, laying them on the common table. Michael takes the wing chair facing the couch where the Coach and I sit on. Michael takes his drink, “I’ve offered Isabella a Director of Communication position at the NSA.”

“I take it she’s accepted,” he grins knowingly at me. “The car gives it away,” he winks at me.

“She has of course, but with conditions.” Michael informs Coach Tammy. Michael looks at me, “Did you tell him?”

I glance at Coach then back at Michael, “No, not yet.”

Michael takes a sip of his whisky and then places his glass down, “We are planning on initiating the first reality skating show of its kind. We present our proposal to Global tomorrow afternoon.”

“You have my attention,” Coach Tammy sounds intrigued. Michael explains my concept to him and then ends with, “So the job’s yours if you want it. You’ll be coaching the top men and women in Nigeria for the duration of the show, we will pay for accommodation and travel expenses along with offering you a sizeable salary for services rendered. Your students will be provided with a suitable replacement in your absence personally selected by Ted Anderson.”

“I don’t come cheap!” Coach Tammy warns Michael.

“This show will make you the most sought out coach in all of North America. You will have an opportunity to teach the top male and female competitors in the country!”

“Don’t give me that fluff, you’re selling me something I already did with Isa and Scott. I want dollars and cents boy!”

“50% more than last year’s gross as stated on your 2014 tax return in year one and 5% increase in year two. We will be offering you a two-year contract, assuming Isabella’s show gets approved tomorrow.”

“Who will I be coaching with?” “Nelly Chatterton and Miles Taylor.” “Car?”

“No car,” Michael laughs. “Deal?”

“Deal” The two men shake hands.

I take the lift down to the lobby at 1:55 P.M. Michael is there waiting for me dressed sharp in a black two-piece suit and tie. I know how important this meeting is so I do something completely out of character and buy a gorgeous outfit for the day on plastic hiding all the tags, so I can return it after the meeting. I don’t want my appearance to be a part of the cause for rejection, this way, I look every bit the part Michael expects me to.

When I step off the elevator, he looks unimpressed, “Are you ready Isa?” His reaction disappoints me immensely. When I tried on the outfit yesterday, I imagined him being struck with this massive pang of desire for me. I pictured him jumping me in the limousine or elevator, unable to keep his hands off me or remain professional. Butterflies in my stomach go from doing double axels to triple axels after seeing his reaction to my appearance, “Sure,” I lie blatantly.

He looks flipping gorgeous. Pathetic enough to look for a reason to get close to him, I take my dead time getting into the limousine, hoping he will bump into me or at least touch me by accident. Being the gentleman he is, he stands far enough back, preventing any unseemly accidents from happening. Michael tells the driver the address and then closes the window between us ensuring privacy. Maybe now he will jump me. I hold my breath, with anticipation.

“Don’t be nervous. Pretend you are telling me your idea for the first time. It will sell itself,” he says confidently.

“You think so?” I still wait. I want to inch closer to him, will it be obvious.

Maybe if he smells me, he will want to get closer too?

I do the subtle inching and he subtly shifts away from me. “I know so,” he says confidently. My confidence level hits an all time low, I decide to pull my phone out and check my emails and texts. There are two texts from Lara and Anna wishing me luck. To my surprise, there was an email from Jer. I quickly open it knowing we were only a few more minutes away from the station.

Isa,

How’s Michael treating you? I told you, he’s turned into a real stand up guy! I want your car!

Jer.

I looked up at Michael, “Jeremy wants my car.”

“Tell him once he wins the Olympics and works for me he can have one too but they don't come with baby onboard stickers,” he teases.

“Then he won’t want it,” I joke back. I place my phone back in my purse and pulled my compact out. I start reapplying a red layer of lipstick. Then I smear my lips together to even out the fresh colour. I feel his eyes on me, this time I’m sure. I put everything back into my purse as the car starts slowing down in front of a familiar building I have driven by a gazillion times in the passed.

The chauffeur opens the door for us and we step onto the busy sidewalk. It is windy outside and it blows my vest open. I squeal from the instant cold breeze I feel and close my vest quickly while walking towards Global’s doors. Michael reaches for the handle and opens it letting me in first. The lobby isn’t all that impressive everything is grey or black and somewhat dated. Michael seems to know where we are going so he doesn’t stop by the information desk on his way to the elevators. He presses the button and we waits in silence.