Brandi had lived in Pennsylvania until the summer of 1987, when her cousin Donnie had called her and offered her a job working as the assistant to "the man who'd make it to the cover of Forbes some day and send everybody in New York to their motherfucking knees."
Obviously, she was skeptical but the more she thought of it, the more she could reason taking him up on the offer. She had nothing more to look forward to in Philly, too many quiet nights and not enough importance in whatever bullshit job she was occupying her days with. So exactly 10 days after Donnie gave her a call, she packed everything she had and took a loan from him to move to the land of opportunity, as he put it. Brandi said goodbye to her parents who were already bitching about their distrust in her new job.
"Why are you doing this, Brandi? You studied to make something of yourself, not to be an assistant to a man in a suit who could fire you at any time for any reason!" Her mother said.
"You're making a big mistake, Brandi. We didn't teach you to make these type of ridiculous decisions. You're throwing your life away!"
"I'm doing this for my own sanity! I'm sick of Philly, sick of everything and everyone. I don't care if you don't like it; I've made up my mind." She ran upstairs and grabbed her luggage. Her father eventually broke and helped her pack the bags into the car. He had to go with her to bring the car back after she got on the plane.
A half hour later, they were at the airport.
He hugged her. "Are you sure this is what you really want?"
Brandi shrugged and smiled lightly.
"It'd better be."
And with that she was out of the car and out of Philly, headed for great things she didn't even know were coming.
Brandi was in New York a little over an hour later. Donnie had given her directions to give to a cab driver to pick her up from the airport and take her to her new workplace. He'd arranged for a few men to set up her bed and some other furniture so the apartment would be livable when she arrived. She stepped out to the sidewalk and called for a taxi. A blond man with a light smattering of pale stubble across his face diligently opened the door for her and stuffed her luggage in the trunk.
She handed him a slip of paper.
"Here are the directions. Do you know how to get there?"
He chuckled and looked at her through the mirror with a raised eyebrow.
"I know just about every street in Manhattan, girlie. Don't you worry about getting lost."
She smiled nervously and stared out the window of the taxi cab. She was really unaccustomed to the sights. Brandi had never seen buildings as tall as the ones displayed in front of her. And she'd never seen that many people rushing about the sidewalks. And the traffic. Christ, it was just about a mile long at each intersection. Plus, everyone had an accent. She knew she had one too but the one she kept hearing from everyone sounded different than it did in Philadelphia. It was heavier. Then she started wondering about her new boss. She had only three skirts and four dress shirts. She would probably have to buy a few more of each and maybe some suits if she wanted to look presentable. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a white button up with black heels, hoping to make a good impression. She always dressed in black and white. Her closet had only one colored item - a sweater with little triangle patterns that her dad bought her on a trip to Canada. What if her boss wanted her to wear actual colors? Brandi was also nervous about swearing. She was prone to talking like a sailor despite her calm upbringing. Donnie swore constantly, so maybe it would be no big deal if she did too. And what if her boss hated women? She'd have trouble holding her tongue at the first sign of disrespect. She also started to think about whether she'd have to move around a lot or sit in a cubicle all day. She was used to standing around.
And just as she started going off on another mental tangent, the cab stopped in front of a place that resembled a warehouse. It said 'Body Shop.'
"Here we are, lady. That's the place, right?"
"I guess so." She sighed. "How much for the ride?"
She took a ten out of her pocketbook and handed it to him.
"Thanks." She stepped out of the car and headed towards the building.
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The Show Goes OnFanfiction
In 1987, Brandi Marciano turned 22, dropped out of college and went to work for the man who would ultimately become the biggest name in Wall Street anyone had ever heard. Brandi knew Jordan Belfort from the beginning to the end, but will she crack u...