“Good morning, Mr. Elliot.”
Mr. Elliot looked up from his desk. “You’re back.”
“You sound surprised, Sir.”
“I am. Most girls don’t make it past the first day.”
I wonder why. Parker glared inwardly, but outwardly she was the perfect willing and eager little secretary, ready to take on the days most strenuous filing challenges. “I’m not most girls, Mr. Elliot.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. You may go to your desk now.”
“Yes, Mr. Elliot.”
The day started slowly. Parker wished she had brought coffee. She wondered if there was a break room in this office building. She wondered if she was allowed to have coffee on her desk. She was startled out of her musings by the intercom on her desk. “Miss Parker.”
She pressed the button. “Yes, Mr. Elliot.”
“I’d like a copy of the Mercer file.”
“Yes, sir.”
Parker rose and found the file, which was empty except for a single photo and a one-sheet letter. The photo was of an older man at a supermarket. Actually, the photo consisted of a rather large number of people at a supermarket, but the older man was circled. She wondered if the man wasn’t supposed to be at the supermarket. Were the low low prices of CostKo denied unto him? She wanted to read the letter, but she didn’t dare. She headed towards the copy room.
The other secretary was there: Mr. Locke’s assistant Bev. Parker had seen her the first day but hadn’t the opportunity to speak with her until now. “Hello. Beverley, right?”
“Why, hi, there. It’s Bev. You’re back.”
Parker smiled grimly. “You seem surprised.”
“Well,” Bev grinned, and leaned against the wall. “What’s the name again, hon? Posey? And yes, I’m a little surprised you’re back”.
‘“Most girls don’t make it past the first day?”’ Parker quoted.
Bev laughed and her frizzy curly hair shook. Parker liked her. “Hon, not one of the last ten assistants have made it past the first day. About five of them got fired as soon as they walked off the elevator.”
“Late?”
“Late. Two were fired for insubordination. The other three quit the first day. So, yes, I’m surprised you’re back Posey.”
“It’s Parker. I mean, Penny’s my name but everyone calls me Parker.” She paused as the copier wafted warm paper smells into the room. “So, has he never had a secretary before?”
Bev took a handful of papers out of the output and placed another document in the copier. “Oh, sure. Had one that lasted about two years But she moved to
“What happened?” Parker felt uneasy. This seemed insubordinate but Bev was breezy in her gossip and Parker relaxed.
“Well, Elliot’s always been demanding. Always had a reputation for being extremely hard to work for. But it got worse when his fiancé left him.”
“When was that? What happened?”
Bev took the last of the papers out of the copier. “I think about three months ago now. She just left without much of an explanation from what I hear.”
“I don’t blame her.” Parker said bitterly.
Bev’s hair shook again as she laughed, but she was laughing at Parker. “He’s a good man, hon. He knows he’s difficult and he pays well to compensate. And he’s fair. If you stick around, you’ll come to respect him.”
Parker placed her own documents in the copier, curiosity about their contents forgotten. “Well, I’m sticking. I need this job.”
“Good!” Bev smiled as she walked back to her own little sanctum. She had a feeling that this one would last. And Bev was relieved. She got tired of being the only female in the office.
Returning to Mr. Elliot’s office with the papers, Parker knocked lightly on the light tan art deco door.
“Come in.”
Mr. Elliot looked displeased and Parker felt her stomach sink. “What took you so long?” he asked.
Parker handed him the file, duplicates inside. “Mr. Locke’s assistant was in the middle of a project of her own, sir.”
“Ah.” was all Mr. Elliot said, but the displeased look disappeared from his face.
Parker turned to walk back to her desk, but thought better of it. “May I be excused, sir?”
“Yes, you may, Miss Parker. And you may file the originals.” he said, handing her the file.
“Yes, Mr. Elliot.”
The rest of the day passed painfully for Parker. She ordered the two of them lunch and picked it up. She was berated for forgetting salt and pepper packets and had to make the walk again. She was told to answer the phone on the second ring, not the first, not the second, and certainly not the forth. When she was sent to the post office, she forgot to take any petty cash and had to return and shamefully retrieve money for postage. Mr. Elliot stood next to her utilitarian metal desk and said that such actions betrayed a complete lack of even a modicum of foresight. Parker apologized profusely but did not offer any excuses to further infuriate her boss.
Finally, finally, five o’clock and Parker went home. Too exhausted for tea and self-contemplation, she took a temperate bath and sank onto her lumpy red sofa. It had never felt so comfortable.
The rest of the week passed similarly. Parker never repeated a mistake but there seemed to be an infinite amount of mistakes to make. Her seething rage at Mr. Elliot had mellowed into a perpetual loathing. She couldn’t think of a year of working for him. She had to work a single day at a time and look forward to the weekends.
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