Chapter 3

Anthonio

I sat at my mahogany desk, going through my emails to see any important messages I had missed yesterday. I also went through the campaign we did for a high fashion brand last week to make sure no detail was left out before sending it to the company for their approval.

Ms. Wattson came into my office with her documents in hand.

I glanced through the documents she handed to me.

She was organizing my daily activities. She made a detailed schedule that included the times and venues of my meetings with a brief on the topics of each meeting and any other important information. She also made available any resources I needed for the meeting, like visualizations, PowerPoint slides, and whatnot. She arranged every document in a blue file as well as sent it to my email.

I saw that she decided to add both the New York time and the time in the country where the organization I am meeting with is located where necessary. This made me feel a little guilty about how I'd scolded her when she mixed up the times some days back. I was just really annoyed. Imagine trying to join a Zoom meeting for over thirty minutes and then calling the secretary of the company to complain that you haven't been offered access to the meeting, only to find out that you actually missed the meeting. It was very embarrassing.

I got to the last page of the document and placed it on my desk. I looked up to see Miss Watson gawking at me. Is she alright?

"Miss Wattson," I said, trying to call her attention but she responded to me with silence.

She just kept staring at me with astonished eyes and an awkward smile spread across her face. Was she trying to flirt with me? I really did not think so. That would be very awkward. I had never even given her a reason to see me in that way. It could also be that she was admiring me. Maybe I really was an amazing boss and she just adored me.

This had gone on for too long and it was slowly becoming creepy. If I did not stop her, she might start drooling and that'd be embarrassing for both of us.

"Why are you still standing here," I said this time in a stern strong voice.

She jolted back to reality. She was so far gone. Is that how much she adores me? Wow. I must really be her role model.

She stared at me confused about what had just happened. I wanted to make a joke about how much she must adore me to have stared at me for so long. But I retracted the response, considering how cheesy it sounded.

"I'm sorry sir," she said hanging her head in shame.

I pointed to the door and she raced out of the office before I could even look at her again.

She was such a quiet, young lady which was a breath of fresh air compared to the crazy people I had worked with. My secretaries in the past had either been impertinent, sassy, or lackadaisical. If they didn't have behavioral issues, then they lacked good hygiene. Kennedy, the secretary I had before Emily, smelt like she didn't own a shower. And the worst part was that she used to try to flirt with me. Words can't express how horrible of an experience it was.

My phone started blaring at me and I looked down to see who was calling. Mr. Stark.

I picked up the phone.

"Good morning, Mr. Antonio," he said through the phone.

"Good morning," I replied, uninterested. I honestly did not enjoy making calls especially ones that were not important.

"How are you doing, sir?"

"Great!" I replied sarcastically.

"Well, sir...." he mumbled

I genuinely dislike people like this. People who choose to waste your time for no reason. If you didn't have important things to do, then you might as well keep yourself busy rather than waste my precious time.

"What is it, Mr. Stark? Just go straight to the point!" I urged.

"I'm so sorry, sir. Please forgive me."

"I don't need your apology. Say what you have to say quickly. I don't have time."

"OK, sir. Well, the doctor just called. They said your dad isn't responding to all the treatments."

His announcement was greeted by my dumbstruck silence. I wanted to say something. I wanted to ask what he meant by this. How was my dad not responding to treatments? I wanted to ask how we got here. But I couldn't. My tongue was frozen and lips shut involuntarily.

"Mr. Giordani...Are you there?"

"Yes, I am." It took all my strength and will to speak. "What's the next step to take now?"

"The doctor said he'd be on hospice for the months he has left. I'm so sorry, Mr. Giordani."

"OK. I'll send in the private jet tomorrow to pick up him from India tomorrow," I said, hanging up immediately.

As I dropped the phone, heaviness fell on my chest and made my heart begin to palpitate. I hit my chest continuously to fight the feeling but to no avail. My eyes began to tingle and soon enough a tear dropped, then two, then another till I couldn't keep up. I had never felt like this. Not since my mum died of breast cancer when I was eleven.

The day I heard the news, I couldn't contain myself. I threw myself to the floor, weeping all day long. But Uncle Alvize had warned me to get myself together, that I was a man- a Giordani- and I should never be seen like that.

This same cancer was going to take my dad away from me. This same fucking cancer.

I began to hit the desk continuously like it was the cause of all my problems till I turned red. What would Uncle Alvize say if he saw me like this? I went to the bathroom, washed my face, made my hair and suit tidy, and got back to my desk.

I began making calls for the preparation of my father's arrival. I called the pilot to send the jet. I also make sure the house in Italy is organized for his arrival. No one has been in the house for almost a year now and a lot of work has to be done.

I communicated with the doctor to confirm the day he would be discharged and what arrangements I had to make concerning getting a hospice nurse.

This new development is definitely going to affect my work. I'm going to have to spend a lot more time in Italy with him and I don't like the sound of that. Who is going to be running the company while I'm with him? I don't trust anyone else with my organization, technically, my father's organization.

I picked up the documents that contained my schedule. As I ran through the multiple documents, an unlabeled envelope slipped out. I ripped it open and pulled out the paper inside.

"Request for promotion," I read aloud.

I read the sentence twice to make sure I was reading right. Was Miss Watson really requesting a promotion? This girl must have a lot of balls.

"It might be someone else," I thought to myself.

I opened the letter and indeed it was Miss Wattson requesting for a promotion.

Why does everyone seem hellbent on annoying me today? First, Mr. Stark and now Miss Wattson. What even gave her the effrontery to think she deserves a promotion? How did she muster the confidence to give me this? She must be so ridiculous to think I'd give her a new role. Who is supposed to fill up her role as a Secretary? Employees these days have so much audacity.

I went straight to my mail and began constructing a reply letter. I told her how she doesn't deserve the promotion and how she isn't good enough to be my secretary. Honestly, at this point, I was just speaking from a place of anger but I didn't really care. She was too audacious and I had to put her back down to her place.