HONEY :: ORIGINAL

offices & bobby pins

"Robert Yeboah," Bobby shook hands with his boss, the CEO, keeping his handshake firm and letting go at an appropriate time.

"Robert," the other man, Mr. Baptiste, put his hand in his pocket, "I've been expecting you."

"I've heard. What is this about?"

"Your move here," he beckoned the younger man to walk alongside him. Bobby did so, his hands behind his back while their dress shoes thumped against the floor.

"Is there a problem?" Bobby asked with raised brows.

"Not at all, sir. The D.C. area was getting crowded anyway," he chuckled lightly, "we'd just like to make you comfortable as you keep residence in North Carolina. Where exactly are you located?"

"Durham."

"Oh, not far. We have an office for you, but I'm not sure if that's what you're about," Mr. Baptiste pressed the button for the top floor, "I must say, I'm excited to have D.C.'s best to come to my company."

"Well," Bobby shrugged his shoulders and laughed, "I don't mean to toot my own horn..."

"By all means," he held his hand up and got in after Bobby, "but I'm excited to be working with you. I need more connections with other sellers and you're perfect for that."

"For sure, Mr. Baptiste," Bobby replied with a smile, "I already have a few ideas to expand your business, if you don't mind hearing them some time next week. I'm still adjusting to my new home."

"Of course, Mr. Yeboah," they got off the elevator and walked towards a door Mr. Baptiste had to unlock, "I'm pretty sure I won't be seeing you here often, but when I do, I got my interior designer to make it more to your liking."

"Ooh," Bobby mused, stepping into the office and looking around, "okay, first of all, I really like these big windows. This is great," he sat down in the large leather chair and clasped his hands, "I'm not much of a corporate man."

"Really?" Mr. Baptiste sat down in another seat across from him, "you seem like an expert businessman."

"I admit, I do have all the skills but," he shook his head, "I hate dressing up in suits and acting like someone else. If that makes sense. It's why I travel and telecommute more. But I guess I can get used to wearing suits."

The older man chuckled. "We can make it so you don't have to come in often. I understand you're working with other companies and promoting them as well?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I don't want it to seem like you can't do that."

"Oh don't worry, I was going to do it regardless."

"Okay," Mr. Baptiste laughed, "we've descussed salary previously, right? And the contract?"

"Yep." this kid was already making six figures, it was wild.

"Good. I'll see you next week at the general body meeting."

"Of course. Definitely."

Bobby walked into his condo building, towards his mailbox.

"Ouch!"

He frowned, turning the corner to see someone bent down at their own mailbox, struggling with the key.

"Shit, my nail," the girl who seemed to have a British accent groaned, jiggling the lock again with no luck.

"'Scuse me," Bobby cleared his throat, startling her. She abruptly stood, her back to the mailboxes, "uh, sorry. Do you need help?"