First Love

Casual Friday

"Howard, you need to explain to me exactly why we need a reprint again. This is the second time this year. Why can't you simply ask for enough copies." A very elegant and loud woman came inside our department and addressed rudely to our editor-in-chief.

"What are you talking about?" Mr. Jason Howard asked and then started to defend himself, "If you remember clearly, I asked for 30,000 extra copies, however the head of your department made sure to limit the supplies."

"Well you should have fought harder for your prints," The angry woman said.

"I sure did, and did you support me? No," Jason talked back at her with the same intensity and rudeness. "You were more interested in your manicure than the meeting taking place."

"I was not...." She answered back heatedly.

The atmosphere in the office was suddenly tense. I couldn't believe the way Jason and that lady were addressing each other. It seemed wrong, and on the other hand it appeared as if they were familiar with the situation.

"What's going on, Toni?" I asked her with the quietest voice possible.

"Oh, it's Ms. Babcock," Toni simply said as if I should know who she was.

"And who's her?" I obviously had no idea.

"She's the administrative manager of Bay Media Inc.," Toni explained and then went back to listen to the discussion.

After some time of listening to Howard and Babcock argue, I went back to my source of information, "Why are they arguing about a reprint? Isn't it good to have the magazine reprinted?"

Toni turned and gave me her full attention, "Well, yeah, in a way it is good, but it is also bad. Magazines work different than books. When a possible client wants to buy a book, he or she may wait for the reprint to get to the bookstore. After all, it is something they are going to read for a certain amount of time," What she said sounded reasonable. I kept listening to the information she provided, "Tabloids don't have that benefit, if a client doesn't find the magazine they're looking for he or she might just buy a similar one. The content isn't going to vary much and it's something a client is going to entertain momentarily with articles that are easily found in other tabloids or even the internet. So if there aren't any issues of Ikon Magazine on the shelves, there are going to be others to replace it."

It made sense. It's not as if you are going to wait for ten days to get the copy of Ikon Magazine. If there isn't a copy on stock, a client might just buy another and wish for better luck next month. No one was going to die if they didn't have a copy of their favorite tabloid. Therefore, been short handed on copies represented a loss in sales. That's what the argument was really about.

I directed my attention back to the heated discussion. Mr. Howard and Ms. Babcock were still trying to settle who was to blame for not printing enough copies. It was so entertaining that I didn't noticed I was being too obvious until Ms. Babcock said, "And who exactly are you?"

Standing as quick as possible, I extended my hand and introduced myself, "I'm Kylie Gordon, the new editor for Ikon Mag."

She ignored my offering and commented, "Amanda Babcock, administrative manager for Bay Media Inc." She looked at me inquisitively, "New you said? This is the first time that I see you in here. Have long have you worked for us?"

Moving my hand back to me I answered, "I've been here for about a month."

"Kylie Gordon?" Ms. Babcock repeated my name as if familiarizing with it. As if she heard it before and tried to place it.

"Yes, ma'am," There wasn't much I could do if she knew me from before. Although, I highly doubt that I knew her. Then again, I have been wrong before.

Finally, Babcock made her thoughts known, "As in The Gordon Group?"

Once again my relationship with the multinational empire of the Gordon family was a point of reference. I remember exactly why I chose to legally change my name to Kylie Gordon and not Kylie Barrette-Gordon, but now I was questioning my decision.

As I was used to do by now I simply smiled. I wasn't about to deny my family, however I didn't want to so easily acknowledge it. Not to a rude person like her.

She smiled too, "It must be nice to have doors open for you because of your last name." Ms. Babcock looked at me from head to toe, then at Mr. Howard and said, "Later, Jason."

Oh! I was so angry. What a bitch!

The way she looked at me. How she judged me. Was I ever going to get used to people judging me because of my family? I doubt it.

She also criticized how I was dressed. I saw it in her eyes. Everyday I made sure I looked my best. The bitch could've come any other day, but no, it had to be today. The day I allowed myself to come comfortable to work because of the tiredness of yesterday's activities.

Certainly I looked cute, but probably not business-woman chic like her. I was wearing a comfortable, however elegant, light cowl neck sweater, my best pair of designer jeans, a dark brown belt and matching beige and brown flats. Flats! Of all the shoes in my walk-in-closet I chose to wear flats (considering that I wore my stilettos for more than 12 hours yesterday). Today I didn't choose nice accessories, the same old golden bracelets and earrings that I had handy for a month. I will never wear jeans to work again, not even if everyone did, not even on fridays. No jeans to the office, ever!

I felt so embarrassed that I sat again on my chair and kept looking at the file in front of me. She humiliated me before my boss and coworkers. How was I ever going to outlive this?

A hand landed on my shoulder, and when I turned to look who was the brave one that came to me after the scene I found that it was no one else but Jason.

"Why would it be wrong for someone to have life a bit more simple," he said out loud. "Life it's hard enough on its own. If we didn't benefit from our families, our friends and the persons around us, where would we be?"

The T's also made encouraging comments after Jason's. I couldn't be more thankful to all of them. No one seem to mind my background and the benefits I could get from it. It was really nice not to feel judged by them.

"Of course that if you fail, well, then you'll be a loser," He had to bring me up, just to let me fall again.

Honestly, Jason could've saved his last comment.