The black door initialed ‘C.E.O.’ opens to reveal Kelsey seated opposite Nicholson. She quietly listens as he goes on almost inaudibly. His lips move as he talks but Rita could barely make out his words from where she stood behind the door peeping in with an armful of manilla files impatiently waiting to be signalled in.
By the troubled expression on Kelsey’s face, the topic at hand seemed to be incredibly serious.
Yes? Come in….
Rita seemed to forget herself momentarily until Nicholson’s eyes shift towards her. Their eyes meet.
Are you just going to stand there?
I said come in.
She seemed to regain awareness as she squeezes her way through the door offering a nervous greeting which Nicholson seemed to disregard.
What can I do for you?
The files you requested for… for the meeting with the Directors.
(Nicholson’s eyes shift over to Kelsey.)
Kelsey, we’ll have to continue this discussion some other time.
Kelsey rises to her feet briefly exchanging a glance with Rita. Being a new recruit, Kelsey was quite unfamiliar with her. Her mismatched ensemble revealed a slightly quirky sense of fashion. The two girls exchange a brief glance before Kelsey heads off towards the exit.
West Wing Entrance,
Gripping unto the door nob, Kelsey exhales deeply right before pulling the door open knowing that, from this moment forth, nothing would ever be the same again. She strolls into the West Wing hauling along a cardboard box full of stuff and a hand bag slung over her shoulder. The noise level drops instantly emphasizing the clicking of her heels as she approaches. All eyes gear towards her direction.
(smiling and waving like a fool)
No replies, just stares
I’m sorry. I –
(placing a finger to her lips hushing her)
No excuses. There’s nothing I hate more than excuses.
Kelsey immediately swallows up her excuse with a gulp. She is soon left standing alone.
She hurries over to Jordan who had gone ahead struggling to remain at her side as she paces around the wing in long confident strides.
There’s a lot to be done so we’ll make the intros brief.
Jordan halts at a desk where three women sit in the persons of – Meryl, mid-thirties, pretty and as prim and proper as they come, she is dressed in a sharp fitted pants suit. Melinda, forty-something, dressed more fashionable than official, her demeanor communicates a desperation to clutch unto a faded youthfulness. Then there’s Margaret. Bespectacled and fashionably lazy, she is dressed every bit of her forty-three years, though, slightly under-dressed with a pair of black flats that seemed to belong more to her husband.
And here we have… Margaret, Melinda and Meryl.
(turning to the three women)
Ladies, meet our newest addition to the Copywright Department. You all know Kelsey. I’ll just sketch a quick run-down of the departmental structure.
Basically, the Department is split into three. We have the Concept Unit, Graphic Design and Content Development.
Margaret is in charge of Concept. Melinda heads Graphic Design and Meryl, the Content Development Unit, which is where you will be starting off. Hence, you will report directly to Meryl.
Is this your first encounter?
(Her smile widens as she utters gently with an utmost sincerity in her tone)
A fire breathing dragon.
Of course, I mean a Copywright Department, dear.
Tell me you’ve had some sort of prior experience.
Actually, it’s my first time.
(Her smile vanishes as she turns towards Jordan.)
They brought a newbie to replace James?
We were all newbies once.
With proper training, I’m sure she’ll fit in no time.
(The smile returns to her face. She directs her gaze at Kelsey.)
You think you can cope here?
She’s only been here 5 minutes. Enough with the intimidation.
(turning to Kelsey)
You’ll soon get to understand just why they’re called the three witches of the west wing.
I have a clue.
Kelsey turns quick only to collide with a gentleman sipping from a bottle of water causing the contents of the bottle to spill all over his face. He hegins to cough uncontrollably choking. She fantically begins to pound at his back till he gains composure. Her breath gets caught in her throat as his wet face comes into view. She stands there staring at him in disbelief and, suddenly, ….. angels begin to sing again.
Don’t tell tell me it was…
(Nods, still mortified)
(Her eyes light up as she lets out a row of laughter)
The guy from the TGIF party? It’s a lie!
Apparently, he has a name. Caleb.
And, apparently, he’s staff.
Wait, he works here?
Apparently, he just joined this month.
But when did the company start hiring people like…, well, people who look like that?
My thoughts exactly. He’s way too cute to work here.
Let me get this straight. You spilled his drink on him… AGAIN?
Despite the universe trying to paint me out to be this huge klutz, I haven’t told you the worst part.
Guess who I’ve been assigned to work with.