You’ve all seen those rich snooty bosses, that if you say just one word wrong they fire your ass off, right? Yeah, me too, and I work for him.
I was recently out of high school when I got the job for Personal Assistant to the oh-so-famous founder of the oh-so-great (not sarcastic) clothing store; Girls Paradise.
I’ve always loved clothes; it’s every girl’s guilty pleasure. I once even thought of becoming a fashion designer, but when I realized that my artistic skills for drawing were . . . disastrous I decided to take on a different job route.
I was sixteen when after taking a summer class of creative writing I discovered my talent was in literature. Sadly, that is a very hard job to pursue. It’s mostly luck. I realized that in my first year of college, but even then I kept on studying, and praying something would go right and I would become like J.K Rowling, Dan Brown or the great Jane Austen with Pride and Prejudice. I wanted to be one of them.
I wanted to write a book out my pure imagination, read the reviews of the fans complementing me on how great my imagination and writing skills are, and have the fans love my books so much that they become New York Time Best Sellers. We writers have 3 goals; 1) Publish a book, 2) Have the fans love it and 3) Become a best seller, not for the money but because that means that your talent is amazing, that you’re not alone, that other people also believe in what you believe.
I tried getting a job in a book store, or as a journalist, or even a low grade editor, but no one was willing to hire an inexperienced nobody.
I bet your wondering how I ended up being Personal Assistant, a very important and professional job . . . Me too. I was just about to give up and un-pack my things ‘cause I was never getting out of my parents house when my older sister told me there was an opening for PA in Girls Paradise Enterprise. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy and I was probably going to have to reschedule my classes to fit my job but I needed the money and experience so I went in for the interview.
It was everything I never thought it would be. I went in, in my best set of preppy feminine pencil skirt and blouse set, looking somewhat sexy if I might add, got in fast. I was the first to arrive for the interview. (Later I found out I was the only one who showed up for the interview for reasons you will understand later.) I sat dawn ready to hand in my résumé when the interviewer (/ Vice President of Girls Paradise) told me, “I have three questions for you. I want you to answer them with most honesty, and if you do not . . . we’ll find out the hard way. You ready?”
I was beginning to get scared, so I nodded in response.
“Alright, do you work under-pressure and do exactly as you’re told?” I nodded. Two qualities my mother always admired in me.
“You finished high school?” I nodded, “Yes, I am actually in beginning my freshman year of college here in NYU studying English-“
“I don’t care.” To say I was shocked was an understatement, it was then when I began to realize high school it’s a walk in the clouds compare to the real world. “Alright, and to finish, are you willing to devote yourself to your job as Personal Assistant, no matter the request?”
“This sounds a bit similar to the first question but yes, I am a devoted worker.” He nodded and leaned back on his chair looking me up and down, as if inspecting me.
“Ok, you get the job.” I almost jumped of joy right there if it weren’t because he interrupted me again, “Melanie will give you some clothes, change into them and when you’re done head to the top floor where Mr. Solomon will be waiting for you.” I nodded and walked out to find a young lady, probably twenty-two, waiting for me.
She led me to the bathroom and helped me get dressed. I was confused; I mean when you have ever seen a job (besides modeling, acting, etc) which requires for you to wear a one-of-a-kind Girls Paradise fancy dress and shoes. Though I won’t complain, the clothes are mesmerizing.
I had on a beautiful baby pink dress, with a doll-like bohemian style with loose, slit sleeves that reached my elbows, and a loose skirt. The details of the dress, like the sleeves and skirt were in a more pale pink lace, with a satin, white ribbon under my chest. The dress had an square neckline, with straps outlining it. For shoes I was wearing knee-high dark brown gladiator flats. I’ve never been a bohemian kind of girl but I was digging it.
“Ok, now let that braid loose, for naturals curls and we are done.”
“Thanks Melanie.” She sighed and gave me one last once over, “It’s Michaela actually, but don’t tell him that. I really need this job.” I nodded. “So you’re his secretary?”
“If I were I would be receiving endless calls about stupid stuff and printing faxes. I’m his PA. It’s a horrible job; Personal Assistant is just a fancy modern name for slave. But it has its pros, mine is that my paycheck comes with a good amount of zeros and I get to travel a lot.”
“And what do you think mine would be?”
She took in a deep breath, “Well, you’re our boss’ PA, which technically makes you the head PA, there’s a pro; you’re important, and well, Boss is famous, so you’ll get to travel a lot. And from what I can see, you’ll get a free closet.”
“Boss?” I asked I bit confused, “Yes, boss, Sir Brian Solomon, owner of all this; the President of this company.”
My dumbfounded expression must have been very obvious ‘cause she giggled. “Who did you thought you were working for?” I shrugged and squealed, “I don’t know, some head of some department . . . helping you with VP, or something, I don’t know. Shouldn’t they hire someone more professional? He’s the head of everything.”
“They are not looking for talent; they are looking for the opposite, someone inexperienced, clueless, and someone they can mold to their preferences. No offense.” I shook my head and laughed humorless, “Don’t worry, the company already beat you to it.” She nodded, “Yeah, they’re cruel.”
She gave one quick look at her silver skull wrist watch before ushering me out the bathroom and off to the elevator, “If you ever need my help just look for me in the floor bellow you, and I’m not there ask somebody for my number. Good luck, you’re gonna need it!” She rushed out before the elevator closed.
Meeting the boss was nothing out of this world; I was scared shitless and I became his little slave. Just like Ella (Michaela) said, it’s a horrible job with great pros. Since Mr. Solomon is very famous and his fashion line gets to go a lot into the runway, we get to travel a lot. And the clothes are just so that I don’t embarrass Mr. Solomon with my ‘commoner’ style. I also was gifted a beautiful black BMW Convertible, courtesy of the company for my non-existent social life (because it’s full of work).
Ella and I became the best of friends, we would always support each other and advise each other on the crappy lives we had, up till six months ago.
Ella met this gorgeous Brazilian model named Alexander Albertoni. He was gonna model for the male winter clothing line we had, and VP was in for a check in, to see that our new line would look tempting to those shopaholic. VP and Ella were standing behind the camera supervising when Alex and Ella had eye contact and . . . just clicked.
Due to company policy Ella quit her job right after Alex proposed to her and ever since then they’ve been planning their . . . very expensive summer wedding. I’m of course the maid of honor, which is only adding more stress and less time for college (as if I had any), plus I’m only beginning Master’s Degree in English, not much stress there.
Oh wait; I forgot something very important in this whole thing.
Hi, I’m Annabelle Agatha Miller. I’m a raven haired, blue eyed little mess. Welcome to my life!