First day on the job. Don’t mess it up.
Lex entered the SPZ lobby on Monday, and this time a perky twentysomething sat behind the receptionist’s desk. “Alexis Sakai.”
The girl typed in the name. “S-a-k-a-i?”
Lex blinked. “Yes.”
The girl exchanged a conspiratorial smile. “I’m a quarter Japanese.” She studied the screen, then picked up the phone. “Mr. Davis, Miss Sakai is here in the lobby.” She listened, then hung up. “He’s off to a meeting, but he’ll talk to you later. Grey Meyers will be meeting you here.” She printed out a name tag for Lex. “This is just temporary until you get your security badge.”
“How much are you getting paid?” Aiyaaaah. Lex and her big mouth. “I’m sorry — ”
The girl’s face had gone politely blank, but then she twinkled with impishness. “I’m in the high end for corporate receptionists. I demanded as much as some of these engineers.”
Lex gave a weak smile, but her knees started to shake. What had Russell seen in her? How could she be qualified to be a liaison “anything”? She gripped the edge of the receptionist’s desk and dug her fingers into the unyielding surface, welcoming the pain from her nails.
“Alexis?” A tall, thin young man rounded the corner of the receptionist’s desk. His pale eyes surveyed her impassively, as if he were shopping for toilet bowl cleaner.
“Call me Lex.” Eeewww, his handshake was like squeezing a wad of wet tissue paper.
“I’m Grey. We’re in the same group.”
Great. Her first coworker already gave her Run away! Run away! vibes.
He gave her a sly look from beneath half-lowered lids. “So, what’s your previous experience as an Alumni Association Liaison?”
What is this, another interview? She clamped her jaw shut before the thought shot out of her mouth. Lex glanced at the receptionist, who discreetly rolled her eyes. It gave her courage. “Russell thought the superior aspects of my background would help me do a good job.”
There, she’d been nice and tactful.
Grey led the way to the stairway behind the desk. “I was just curious.”
Curious, my foot.
They ascended the stairs together. “The last AAL was Judy Baloney. She quit after her maternity leave ran out.”
“You must have been sad to lose her.”
Grey shrugged. “Not really.”
Lex stumbled on the steps. He gave her a sardonic look.
“You didn’t like her?” Lex wondered if God would consider this gossip. But she needed to know Judy’s mistakes so she wouldn’t repeat them.
Grey shrugged again. “She was eye candy.”
“Say what? ” Lex’s tact crumbled, since Grey obviously had none.
“She didn’t know much about sports, and the alumni associations didn’t respect her all that much.” A fierce expression zapped onto his face, then disappeared. He turned a carefully insipid look on her.
“Several men within the company jostled for a transfer to her spot.”
Aaaaahh. Lex was beginning to understand. Except she wasn’t another Judy Baloney. “Then Russell certainly picked the right person when he hired me.”
Grey’s eyes hardened. “Tigh Anders was surprised Russell hired you.”
Tigh? Mr. Hands from the club? “How strange. I never interviewed with Tigh or gave him my résumé. Does he hire by how well someone dances or something?” She bared her teeth at him. She almost growled and barked.
Surprise widened his eyes for a second, then those lazy half-lids concealed his thoughts again. He shrugged.
Lex frowned. If she wanted to be summarily dismissed, she’d have stayed at Pear.
They entered a large area crammed with cubicles. Lots of male voices. It reminded her of those movies about Wall Street traders, except apparently not all of them were on the phone.
“Lex, this is Dan and Jordan.” A Caucasian and an African American man cut off their conversation when they saw her. Speculative gazes pinned her to the floor.
An iron rod slammed down Lex’s spine. She returned a gimlet stare.
“Welcome to the team.” Dan’s voice had a menacing thread.
“Lot of work.” Jordan’s hard eyes flickered over her masculine work suit. A thin hand scratched the scruff on his narrow chin.
Lex crossed her arms. “I’m used to hard work.” Watch out, bucko, I’ ll arm-wrestle you under the table too.
He flexed a scrawny bicep.
She cracked her knuckles.
Grey interrupted the testosterone-estrogen duel. “This way’s your office.”
I get an office? Luckily, Lex’s teeth still ground together from her circling with Jordan, so she didn’t blurt it out and advertise her ignorance. These boys reminded her of her male cousins. She had rolled with enough punches and knew how to hit their soft spots.
Lex followed Grey down the row of cublicles.
“Here’s your office.” Gee, Grey’s voice could have been a tad more resentful.
Office? More like closet, and not the walk-in kind. It looked like Judy left in a whirlwind — papers scattered on the floor, dirt and purple petals dusting the carpet around a circle where a flowerpot had rested, the occasional waft of nail polish remover. Some sparkly flower stickers, painted butterflies, and cut-out hearts decorated the front of the metal file cabinet. An emery board and a half-open, mostly-used eyeshadow compact lay next to the desk leg.
And on top of the desk, a stack of pink “While you were out” slips. Lex caught the dates on some of the top ones — today.
Were they all — ? She flipped through the stack. They were all from today. And a couple from Sunday too.
Grey had an almost amiable smile as he watched her sift the pieces of paper. Did her dismay blare out from her face? “There are also messages from last week in the desk drawer. Enjoy.”
He closed the door when he left, which doubled the floor space in her “office.” She squeezed around the edge of her desk to get behind it and collapsed into the squishy chair.
The little pink message slips giggled at her.
She planted her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her hands. She didn’t even know what to do. Looked like Judy had been cute and feminine — how could Lex fit those stilettos?
A firm knock at the door. More roosters come to strut? “Come in.”
Russell Davis entered with the first friendly smile she’d seen since that nice receptionist. “Sorry about that, I had a meeting.”
“That’s fine.” Lex climbed to her feet.
“No, no, there isn’t enough room to stand.” Russell had to walk all the way inside in order to close the door. He perched on her desk —taking up half the surface area — while she sat back down. Somehow his proximity didn’t crowd her.
Might as well begin as she meant to go on. “So, Russell, why did you hire me?”
He laughed. “Did it surprise you?”
She thought of the HR woman’s call. And the magnificent timing of it. “That’s one way to put it.”
He peered out the window into the back parking lot. “Well, when we talked, you demonstrated all the traits of who I wanted for this position.”
“That’s another thing. What exactly is this position?”
His eyes crinkled in laughter. “That’s right, you don’t know yet.
The Alumni Association Liaison is like a receptionist specifically for college alumni associations. You’re the intermediary between them and SPZ. Information, scheduling, promotion, news. You answer questions or find the answers, forward requests, implement suggestions. Alumni associations deal solely with you as the representative of SPZ.”
“How in the world am I going to be able to do all that? I’m a manufacturing engineer, for crying out loud.”
“Our last liaison — ”
“Yeah, I heard about her already.”
He studied the dirt pattern on the carpet with a brittle expression.
“The AAs didn’t warm up to her, and she didn’t relate to any of their representatives. You will.”
“How do you know that?”
He smiled, and the lines deepened on his face. “You know a lot about college sports, and not just the major ones.”
She flipped her memory back to their conversation. “For all you know, I could only be familiar with wrestling, basketball, and baseball.”
“True, but I could also tell you’re the sort who wouldn’t mind learning other sports if you had to.”
Lex tilted her head. “Well, that’s true.” She nodded at the closed door, then met his gaze directly. “There are a lot of guys out there who wanted this job.”
He grinned. “You can take ’em.”
“I’m serious, Russell.”
“They don’t understand that the AAs, by and large, prefer dealing with a female liaison.” He shrugged.
It probably wasn’t right, but Lex wasn’t about to complain.
Russell continued, “But I also didn’t want another woman like the previous liaison.”
Lex glanced at the sickening stickers, butterflies, and hearts on the filing cabinet. “Well, I can assure you I’m nothing like her.”
“I knew you weren’t. You’re right for the job. And I think you’ll enjoy it.” He got off her desk, backed up a step, and yanked open the door.
Three men bolted to their feet from a crouching position.
Russell glared.
They froze.
“Don’t you have work?” His tone could have made a volcano ice over.
They scattered.
He turned back to her and nodded at the pile of pink slips. “For today, return those phone calls. Introduce yourself so the AAs know there’s been a changing of the guard.”
“Okay.”
“If you have questions — ”
“I’ll bully one of the guys.”
He grinned and walked out of her office.
Lex booted up her computer. The IT department had already sent someone to reset the user. “ASakai” had been preprogrammed into the login window. Password? She typed in “ASakai” again.
Voila.
Aaaah. She could always tell a good company by their IT department.
She already had email. Wendy Tran — that’s what that HR chick’s name had been! — had arranged for her orientation at 2:00 p.m. in the HR department. That meant she had to answer these calls this morning.
Lex picked up the first slip. Arizona State. Mark Burns.
Deep breath. What did Russell say? People hadn’t related to Judy.But what had Judy done? Said? How could Lex know she wouldn’t do the same thing and alienate this Mark guy? She’d mess up on her first day at work. She’d be a total failure.
Deep breath again. She needed to think for a second here. Russell had implied that Judy hadn’t known much about sports. Well, Lex didn’t know about every college sports program in every college in the U.S. What if she congratulated Arizona State on their terrific golfing team when the University of Arizona had just whooped their butts in the last tournament? She’d ruin SPZ’s reputation and the company would fold.
Deep breath one more time. Pull a Nike. Just do it. You’re only introducing yourself. And if you mess up and they fire you, you won’t be any worse off than you were last Friday.
She dialed.
“Arizona State Alumni Association. This is Mark.”
“Hi, Mark. I’m Lex Sakai from SPZ.”
“Who?”
“Lex Sakai. I’m the new Alumni Association Liaison.”
“They got rid of Judy?”
“No, she left because she got pregnant.” Ooops, that didn’t come out right. “I mean, she left for personal reasons.”
Mark muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Good riddance.”
Lex cleared her throat. “Anyway, I was calling to let you know — ”
“Did you get my message — I left it for Judy — about the web advertising for the new PAC – 10 volleyball tournament we’re hosting?”
“Cool! You’re hosting a volleyball tournament?” That came out only a little lower than a squeal. “I mean, how exciting.” What a lucky break — she could hang with college volleyball.
“This year, we’ve invited Arizona, Washington, and Cal.”
“Oh, the game between ASU and Washington should be really good. Their new coach is building a strong team.”
“Yeah, but we’ve just got a freshman who was originally red-shirted. Outside hitter, six-foot-six.”
“Who?”
“Lorianne Lee.”
“Chinese?”
“Half. Mother is Swiss.”
“I’m looking forward to watching her, then.”
“Yup.” The pause seemed thoughtful rather than awkward. “You follow baseball?”
Lex racked her brain. She remembered watching a little ASU baseball. “You guys doing okay this year?”
“Shaky.”
“Well, your captain graduated. He was great last year.”
“Yeah, he held the team together like Elmer’s. The new captain’s Dave Garrett.”
“Oh, I remember him. He’s not bad. I think if they give him a few months, he’ll get the hang of it.”
“Yeah, I think so too. Well, it was nice talking to you, Lex. If you’re ever in Phoenix, give me a call. I’ll get you tickets to anything playing that weekend. Even football.”
Whoa! “Thanks, Mark. I appreciate that. Anyway, can you email to me the info on the advertising you wanted for the volleyball tournament? I’ll get right on that.” She had no clue what she needed to do, but she felt good enough to take on all those jealous chumps out there in the cubicles. “A-S-A-K-A-I at SPZ.com.”
“Sure, I’ll do that. Thanks, Lex.” Click.
“Yes!” Lex punched the air with a triumphant fist.
Blip. Oh, she got an email. A sitewide bulletin. “SPZ sponsorship program.” Huh? She clicked on it.
Suddenly, a head popped into her open doorway. Grey, peeking in at her. Except his eyes had expanded to the size and color of softballs. “Whoa.”
“What?”
“You know sports.”
“Duuuh. That’s why Russell hired me.” Her gaze flickered to the email. Starting in the fall quarter, SPZ will offer —
“No, I mean you really know sports.”
Lex dragged her gaze away from her computer screen. “What —you think someone needs a Y chromosome to know sports? Think again, buddy.” She turned back to the message — SPZ will offer full sponsorship to three local youth club teams —“No, I just — ”
“Will you let me read my email?!”
Grey disappeared like smoke. Great, now she probably had a reputation for being snappy and emotional.
She returned to the email bulletin. This would be almost perfect. If SPZ picked her girls’ team to sponsor, they’d start funding in September.
After playoffs.
But supposedly Grandma would sponsor them until Mariko’s wedding in May. If Lex could fool Grandma into funding them through playoffs, she wouldn’t need to keep a boyfriend after August. SPZ would take over funding.
Could things get any better? She rocked at her new job. She had a new possibility for sponsorship. And she now worked for a 90-percent male workplace — there had to be at least one guy here who was Christian, who didn’t want her job, and who fit the items on her Ephesians List (which wasn’t really that long).
The sponsorship program just firmed her resolve. Lex needed to find a guy to date until August. She needed someone who would wow Grandma enough to keep her as sponsor through the summer. She needed to take advantage of the large population of testosterone-charged sports nuts and meet more of them (one of whom she’d just scared away — brilliant).
Oh, and she needed to fill out the application for this sponsorship. She searched her desk.
Judy had taken all the pens.