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The New York skyline unfolds beyond the glass windows of the private elevator, soaring skyward as it ascends to the summit of the Global Gold Entertainment Corp office. Yes, the Global Gold Entertainment Corp: a towering presence in the entertainment industry, claiming the uppermost floors in this Midtown Manhattan skyscraper.
As the elevator chimes its arrival on the twenty-second floor, my fingers smooth the crease in my knee-length navy skirt, and I nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Stepping onto the twenty-third floor, I'm greeted by the iconic 3D embossed company logo.
I can hardly believe that I've landed the position of Benedict Brumen's assistant. Applying felt like a longshot yet, here I am about to meet Benedict Brumen—the larger-than-life media personality and TV show host who's interviewed the world's foremost thought leaders. Part of me worries that perhaps I've been called by mistake, and at any given moment, they'll politely escort me out.
“Miss, can I help you?” The receptionist's voice lilts as I approach the desk.
“Miranda Walls. I start today,” I announce.
She offers a perfunctory smile. “Would you mind waiting for a moment, please?”
In truth, waiting is what I’ve done for the past year. I’ve toiled away as a production coordinator at a fledgling media house, biding my time for an opportunity like this. Never did I imagine I'd be chosen to assist one of the greatest interviewers. All I want now is to start learning from the best.
"Janet, the HR executive who guided me through the final interview stages, greets me an hour and a half later.
“Hello, Janet. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” I exclaim, springing from my seat.
She leads me through the contractual formalities. “Let’s breeze through the paperwork. I’ve briefed you on the terms, but if you’ve any questions, shoot. Once we’re done, I'll give you a tour, introduce you to the team, and guide you through your practical responsibilities. After that, I’ll hand you over to the boss, and he’ll take it from there.”
*** abbreviated version for website ***
No one's heard from him all weekend…
Is he even going to show up today?
I heard it was an affair…
As I step into the office Monday morning, rumors are buzzing all around. I approach the receptionist to ask if Benedict has arrived yet, and she lets out a scoff. "I wouldn't count on him showing up." I'm about to press for an explanation, but she swivels away, engrossed in something she deems more important than chatting with the new hire.
I spent the weekend reading and taking notes on Amitav Mukherjee's books, and now it's time to delve into Benedict's past interviews with him. I haven't been provided a laptop or computer to work on, and I'm uncertain where to conduct my research. Benedict still hasn't arrived, even though it's nearing 10 AM. I call Janet from human resources.
"Hi, it's Miranda Walls. Benedict's new assistant? Could you tell me when I'm going to receive a computer or if I'm allowed to enter Benedict's office before he arrives?"
"Didn't you two discuss that last week?"
"Well no, he left abruptly."
"I'm running late for a meeting. Listen, you'll have to use your best judgment. I'll check back in as soon as I'm able."
For a moment, a wave of anxiety threatens to bring tears to my eyes, but I quickly suppress it. Benedict never explicitly said I couldn't work in his office, and there's a desk right beside his. It's reasonable to assume that's where his previous assistant worked, and it's where I’m meant to work. I have my personal laptop with me, even if it's on its last legs. I'll inquire about getting an office-issued one later. I head to Benedict's office.
*** abbreviated version for website ***
"Benedict!" I march back into the office. "I need you to get it together."
"Excuse me?" He didn't even sound angry, just pitiful.
"You're going through a horrible situation. I'm sorry about that. But we have a story to break - a great story. Fire me if you want, but do it after the interview. Right now, I need you to pull yourself together, get cleaned up, and start reviewing my notes."
"I am your boss, Miranda..."
I stand up straight and look at him, slumped on the sofa, sweat stains on his shirt, looking like a shadow of who he was just a few days ago. "You hired me to help you. So, I’m helping."
John, the production manager, knocks and lets himself in. "Oh no," John groans, his eyebrows instantly furrowing.
Benedict was taking a Tylenol I had in my purse and drinking the coffee I had gotten for him. I texted hair and makeup to expect him early - he was going to need a haircut and a shave.
"Are you going to be able to handle this?" John asked, looking at Benedict.
"Yes, he is. We're getting him cleaned up. A fresh suit is on the way." If you'll excuse us, he needs to eat something so he has time to barf it back up and then try to eat again.
"Lovely," said John as we walked past him, Benedict moping behind me. “Good luck, New-Amy.”
“My name is Miranda.” I said without looking back.
A massive TV screen flashes the company logo, and then the video edit for Talk up A Storm with Benedict Burmen plays in a loop. A brown spiral zooms in, and then Benedict’s half-bust smiling portrait spreads his hands to welcome you into the show.
*** abbreviated version for website ***
Credits
TANUSREE BISWAS
Writer
MEGAN NICHOLS
Editor
JENNIFER GLOVER
Contributor
JASON STEVENS
Creator
About
Delivered by our SOURCE Newsletter, Short Stories explores the drama of work through real and fictional storytelling. All characters and storylines are fictional unless otherwise specified. To sponsor, collaborate or report an issue, please use the suggestion button in our main nav.
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