Chapter 6: Plan B

The rumbling in her stomach undercut the cool and calm persona that she showed to all around her. This was her only shot at paying for her education, and she had to present herself as cool and confident to Mr. Marburry, and whoever else she would be interviewing with.

As she entered the building she reflected on the vagueness that Sharon took when she questioned what the job responsibilities entailed, her only response was that it was professional position in her Dads company.

She fidgeted on the elevator as it moved ever so slowly to the 4th floor, where the fate of her upper education lay before her. The elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal a reception area of wall covered wooden paneled walls of deep golden brown, paintings of abstract art adorned both side of the walls leading to the receptionist desk made of matching wood with a dark haired woman in her 30’s seated behind as she talked on the phone.

Moving on unsteady legs Rene made her way to the receptionist, where she waited patiently for her to get off the phone.

When her call was completed she looked up at Rene, smiled, and asked, “May I help you?”

In her strongest voice possible Rene responded with, “Yes, I have an appointment with Mr. Marburry.”

“May I have your name please?”

“Rene Hewitt.”

Looking to her workstation she said, “Okay Miss Hewitt please have a seat and I will inform Mr. Marburry that you are here.”

She turned and sat down in the prescribed chair, picking up a magazine to read while she waited.

As she flipped through the pages the ding from the elevator sounded. She looked up just in time to see the doors open and a man of medium height in his late 30’s, short light brown hair with a well on its way receding hair line wearing your standard dark suit, white shirt, and blue tie. He walked off the elevator struggling as he carried a large stack of what appeared to be manila envelopes he carried in one arm, a box and under his arm, and in his hand was his briefcase.

He made it to the receptionist desk without dropping what he carried with a fair amount of struggling. Seeing the struggle to maintain control Rene put her magazine down and walked over to the struggling man and said “Can I help you with something, maybe take the box or your briefcase?”

Turning to her the man said, “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

With a smile she said “Nonsense, impose away” as she took the box from him. The receptionist covered the hand set and cleared her throat, indicating silence was needed, like they were in a Library. The box was worn and appeared to be heavy but when she took it from him it was light, almost as if it was empty.

With him waiting for the receptionists to complete the phone call she was on Rene caught the attention of the man and nodded to the seat she had vacated, indicating to him that she was going back to. He smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgment and mouthed thank you.

She headed back to the seat she had before and placed the box on the table, picked up the magazine she had been reading and sat down.

She looked over as the receptionist finally completed her call and turned to the gentleman before her. The conversation between the two was quiet and brief as the man nodded to the receptionist and headed over to where she sat.

Placing the manila folders on the table and his brief case on the floor next to his set he leaned over and extended his hand, “Thank you for your help, almost lost it there for a moment.”

With a polite smile she said, “No problem.”

“Oh my manners, my name is Edgar Granston” as he extended his hand.

She took it and responded, “Rene Hewitt.”

“Here for an interview?” He asked.

“Yes, an assistant of some sort” not sure what to say as she didn’t even know what the job was. “And you? Are you here to apply for a position?”

With a smile he said, “No, I am what you would call an independent contractor, and last week Mr. Marburry asked if I was available to work on a special project for the company.”

She sat down and asked, “So what kind of work do you do?”

“My primary line of profession is as a writer of historical fiction, but my employment with Mr. Marburry is more in line with Project Management.”

“Wow, a writer” she had never met a writer before.

He blushed a bit as he replied, “Well, no not really, I took a little liberty with the term writer. I have written several books but, unfortunately, none have been published.”

“Well, I’m sure you are very close to getting published.”

“Well thank you, I hope you are correct. So, what is your story?”

She sat up straight, “Well I’m a freshman at Georgetown, and I am working toward a degree in accounting.”

He kind of squinted at her and said, “Well your accent is unique, not from around these parts, I am thinking the Midwest, southern Illinois maybe?”

With sock on her face she replied, “Well, that’s very good, but one state east, Indiana. How did you know?”

He brushed off her praise, “Part of my research into one of my non-published books, one of the characters was from Springfield Illinois and I wanted to know what the speech patterns sounded like to help me get a better understanding of how they spoke.”

“Pretty thorough if you ask me.”

“Well, I do sometimes latch on to something that might not be very relevant to the story.” He leaned in and said softly, “A failing of mine I’m afraid. Too much detail and not enough substance.”

“So what can you tell me about Mr. Marberry?”

He sat back and thought for a moment before saying, “In this City, the capital of our country, is a pool of the most disdainful of people, looking to line their pockets and grab power for their own personal means. Reprehensible. But, Mr. Marberry, is a man with an exceptional mind and of quality and substance that too few possess. He is fair and impartial and caring to those in his employ. If I was not committed to my writing I would gladly take a position in his company.”

She blinked a couple of times before asking, “His company?”

It was his turn to act surprised, “Why yes, did you not know that?”

Shaking her head no, “Ah, no, Sharon did not mention that part.”

He looked incredulously and asked, “Sharon?”

She bit her lip knowing that she gave up a piece of information that she should not have. “His daughter. She is my roommate at Georgetown.”

He looked at her with a look of amazement before saying, “Well, ah, that is unusual. I had assumed, from previous conversations with him, that family and friends were not, well, to be employed, by his company.”

Her heart sank, she really needed this job. Latching on to a ray of hope she said, “Maybe it’s just a courtesy to his daughter?”

Shaking his head he said, “No. He wouldn’t do that. Giving hope to someone to appease his daughter? No, totally out of character for him.”

So intent with the conversation with Mr. Granston that she did not see the woman approach, and when she said, “Miss Hewitt?” she nearly jumped.

Before her stood a woman in her 30’s dressed impeccably. Catching herself she said, “Uhm, yes.”

Smiling at the word uhm, the woman said, “If you would please follow me, I will take you to see Mr. Marberry.” Then turning to Edgar she said “Mr. Granston, always a pleasure, and Mr. Marberry will see you once the interview with Miss Hewitt is completed.”

She stood up and extended her hand and said, “It was a pleasure meeting and talking with you Mr. Granston.”

He stood and took her hand and replied, “The pleasure is all mine Miss Hewett. Good luck on the interview, and maybe we will meet again.”

“That would be nice.”

The woman swept her arm in a gestor to follow and began moving down the hall.

“My name is Tracy Alexander, I am Mr. Marberrys’ Executive Assistant. His schedule is very tight but I was able to squeeze 20 minutes out of his day for you.”

They stopped at a large wooden door and Tracy tuned to her and said, “Be open, be honest, ask questions, and keep your mind open. Please wait her.” She knocked on the door and after a muffled response opened the door and stuck her head inside.

After a brief wait she opened the door all the way and said, “He will see you now.”

Rene softly said “Thank you” to Tracy and slipped pass her into the surprisingly small office, not that she had anything to compare it to. In any case the office was 15x20 with his desk perpendicular to the window that ran floor to ceiling. Two seats were placed before his desk which had a few knick knacks and a couple of framed pictures that she couldn’t see.

Mr. Marberry looked to be in his late 50’s, slightly graying hair and from what she could tell a physique of a man half his age.

Hanging up the phone he stood up and came around his desk and extended his hand saying “Miss Hewitt it is a pleasure to meet you. My daughter Sharon has nothing but nice things to say about you, except for what has brought you to me.”

She took his hand and shook it saying, “Thank you, it’s a pleasure meting you too, and yes Sharon is a good friend. And as for the business that has brought me here I can only say that it is over, it is in my past as much as it can be, and I will never make that mistake again.”

He smiled and gave her a noncommittal nod and said, “Why don’t we have a seat here” pointing to the set of coach chairs next to a conference table.

He sat back before asking, “So, did Sharon mention anything about the position?”

Shaking her head no, “She was quite vague when I asked questions about it.”

Just then there was a knock on the door followed by Mr. Marberry saying “Come in.”

The door opened and Tracy Alexander entered carrying a Manila folder which she handed to Mr. Marberry. “Thanks Tracy, and push back the meeting another 20 minutes, I think I will need it here.”

He opened the envelope and looked over the document. Satisfied he stood up and walked to his desk retrieved a pen and sat back down.

“Before we continue you will need to sign this confidentiality agreement. What it states is that you cannot disclose what we are going to discuss to anyone, which after you hear what the position requires you will fully understand why this is necessary.”

A confidentiality agreement? She was now worried, but trusted Sharon to not get her into anything that would lead her into danger. She took the paper and gave it a cursory glance, satisfied that there was nothing in it other than what Mr. Marberry had stated she took the pen and signed her name and handed the document back.

He looked at the document and said “Okay” as he leaned back into the coach.

“What I understand is that you have lost your scholarship, but have not been expelled from Georgetown for nothing other than bad judgment. The scholarship paid for everything, books, room and board, and tuition. Is this correct?”

She tried to maintain a steady voice but as she said, “Yes” it came out with a combination of fear and shame mixed with a slight cracking.

“Okay.” It seemed to Rene that his demeanor had changed from one of calm and cool business persona to that of a man who is about to expose something of himself that he wanted kept from those whom he did not know well.