Hell, that was more than weird.
As I watch Max Greene, the stock exchange’s latest whiz kid software developer stride off out of his office, I have to admit that, yes, he’s gorgeous as hell. But he’s also strange.
What was that even about?
What gazillionaire tycoon offered to grab a coffee for the new temp in their office?
I’d been here three days and the guy hadn’t even seemed to see me. Now he was offering me coffee?
As a temp, I was used to being ignored. A part of me, the new part who’d had her life turned on its head, appreciated how invisible I was now. In a way, it made me feel invincible. But Max Greene had gone from totally ignoring me to wanting to get me a hot beverage…
Okay, maybe I was being suspicious and mean. My therapist, the one I could barely afford, had warned me about that in my last session with her.
Before I could get flustered, the door to Max’s office and my direct supervisor, a guy called Derek, stepped out.
“Ignore Max,” he advised me. “He’s a little unusual when we approach the end of a project.”
I nodded, not saying anything. I knew Derek was soft-soaping the situation, trying to pretty up whatever Max had said to me.
The notion made me wonder if Max had a habit of putting his foot in things. But he couldn’t do. He was so suave and elegant. And weird.
Very weird.
I’ve never, not in the three years I’ve temped, been asked if I wanted a coffee by my boss. I’ve been asked to go out for the stuff, but never if I wanted it myself.
As I thought about that, and pondered my therapist’s comments, I wondered if it was strange or if I was making it so. The man had asked me if I wanted some coffee, not if I wanted to start stripping in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s!
Telling myself to lighten up, I pasted on a smile and returned to my work. Having arrived three days ago, and this being the first time Max seemed to have actually noticed me, I figured I was just being sensitive.
At first, I’d thought he’d ignored me because I was beneath his notice. Some bosses are like that.
I’m a temp, so I wouldn’t ordinarily make it past a certain level in organizations such as this one. But on my resume, I have corporations similar to Avalon listed, and get hired to fill in roles from time to time that do put me in close contact with upper management.
Case in point this admin position.
The lady I’m temping for is pregnant, but she’s only a worker grunt just on a high floor. That’s my specialty.
I’m used to signing Non-Disclosure Agreements, it’s part of the process for me now, although I’ll admit, I had to sign a few more than usual when I started working here.
My contract was for eight months, with a possible view to extend for twelve depending on how long the assistant required for maternity leave.
The fact that maternity leave was granted in this company actually impressed me. That wasn’t always the case, especially in businesses such as this one that were fast-paced and, I’ll admit, with an all-male management team. That they were generous enough to not screw expectant mothers over at all impressed me, but to agree to potential extensions?
Unheard of.
I wanted to ask if the extension on the maternity leave was something the woman I was replacing could ask for, or if it was something that was there as a safety net if there was something wrong with the baby. Otherwise, I wasn’t sure what that extension was about.
Still, only my curiosity was piqued. I was just grateful for the long term position at a company that would look great on my resume.
This would be the longest job I’d taken in pretty much ever. A month here, two months there. But usually I just filled in here and there for a few days, a week or two. Eight months was astonishing.
A part of me wondered why they hadn’t just hired in house, but I didn’t really care. I had bills to pay the same as anyone, and Avalon? The pay was astronomically good. So damn good, the therapist I could barely afford but considered vital to my mental health, I’d be able to see her every month instead of every two and without eating ramen for a week to pay for it. I sure as hell wasn’t about to start questioning my damn luck just when I’d gotten some of it for myself.
Now, Jessica, don’t start on about that.
I could almost hear my mother’s singsong voice as she told me to basically forget what happened to me, to move on like nothing had happened at all.
I loved my mother. I did. We were more friends than parent-child. But recently, ever since the incident, a part of me was coming to hate her.