Intense Insane In Love, Page 5

CHAPTER FIVE

  Center City Philadelphia is much less packed than Manhattan or even Brooklyn. Compared to New York it can barely be considered a city. The amount of skyscrapers in Center City, if they can be called that, is a fraction of those in Manhattan. Philadelphians are nothing like New Yorkers, their fashion sense sucks. Even the pigeons are uglier in Philadelphia. But I must admit the city does have a charm to it.

  Sunday I went to Love Park. It's small but appealing with curved granite steps, a red "Love" sculpture in upper-case letters arranged in a square with a tilted letter O, and a single spout fountain which was off. I'm guessing it's on in the summer. If it weren't for the glances I was receiving from a homeless guy, I would have spent hours there. Instead, I decided to go back to my hotel and ordered room service.

  Waking up grumpy and disinterested this morning I took a shower, ate breakfast, watched some television and went back to bed. Rising back up around noon, I washed the sleep off my face, got dressed, did my make-up and left for my interview.

  It's snowing out. I wasn't sure how long it would take to walk to the United Blue building from my hotel in high heels, which is why I headed out at one-thirty. It’s one-fifty now and I've already reached the building. I have about an hour to burn.

  Standing in front of the building it doesn't look like much. I adjust my scarf on my head to better shelter my hair from the snow, and look around. The streets are covered with dirty grey slush that was once clean white snow. The United Blue building has a restaurant attached to it.

  "Blue Cantina." Reading the green and blue sign above the restaurant to myself, I consider going in there to past the time, but quickly reject the thought.

  Sighing, I walk through the revolving doors of the building, and head towards the security desk. There's a young rent a cop at the desk, I inform him that I have an appointment with Rachel Schwartz. While he's checking, something pulls at my insides. Reflexively my gaze moves across the floor...it lands on a very attractive well-dressed, well-built man with a goatee and hair as dark as mid-night. He's standing at the lobby entrance of the restaurant.

  Our eyes meet - a shiver goes down my spine, my skin is tingling. Although I've caught him gawking at me he doesn't have the decency to be embarrassed and look away. Uncomfortable and unsure of how single people communicate, I give him what I think is a ‘you may have a chance’ smile.

  He doesn't return it.

  Jerk. He's probably gay.

  Feeling completely rejected and foolish, I look away. I should have never come here. Being here is a total waste of my time.

  "Your appointment is at three," the security guy informs me.

  "Yes, I know." He begins to prepare a visitor’s pass. Looking back towards the restaurant entrance, the gawker is now accompanied by a platinum blonde who is playing with his tie.

  So much for my gay theory.

  Such a cheap blonde, with such an expensive suit, go figure. Finding myself quickly getting irritated and bored with people watching, I turn my attention back to the security desk.

  "Here you go Ms. Lovemann," the security guy says and hands me the visitor’s pass.

  "Where is your ladies room?"

  "There's one on the twenty-third floor by the cafeteria."

  "Thanks," I tell him and head for the elevator. I can feel the clash of the cheap blonde and expensive suit coming up behind me. Attempting to avoid being stuck in the elevator with the two of them, I slow down.

  They walk pass me. I continue to do my impersonation of a tortoise on a stroll, allowing the distance between us to increase. They reach the front of the elevator. Crap! I'm still too close. The doors open and of course - Blondie decides to hold the elevator doors for me.

  Damn it! Can't she take a hint?

  "Thanks," I tell her with an appreciative smile.

  Stepping into the elevator I take a quick inventory of him. His suit fits him very well. I'm guessing it’s custom made, and his shoes look Berluti. His watch is a Rolex Daytona - black leather band, white dial with gold Arabic numerals. A watch says a lot about a man, and a Daytona says 'I not only make six figures but I also have good taste'. But with this guy I'm not sure about the good taste part he could have gone much classier than the cheap arm candy.

  "I just hate it when I miss the elevator by a few seconds," Blondie says.

  "Yeah," is all I care to respond, trying to look everywhere but at them.

  "What floor?" she asks standing by the elevator buttons with a perky smile. The Daytona is standing next to her.

  "Twenty-third." The elevator doors close. He begins to cut me open with a long dissecting stare, making me feel extremely self-conscious.

  Is there something on my face? I hope I don't have an exposed bugger dangling from my nostrils. That would be humiliating, but I checked the mirror before leaving the hotel and again when I reached the building. To avoid the discomfort of his stare I turn and face the doors.

  "Are you an auditor?" Blondie asks pressing the twenty-three button.

  At least she knows her numbers.

  "Excuse me?" I turn to look at her, but my eyes land on her weird side-kick, who I'm now certain, is a handicapped mute with a nerve dysfunction in the eye.

  "The auditing department, it's on the twenty-third floor."

  "No, I'm not an auditor, just going to the cafeteria." That was polite talk for ‘mind your business’.

  Finally, the elevator reaches the twenty-third floor. The cafeteria has several empty tables. Spotting a table by the window I saunter over to it, take off my coat and scarf and sit down. The view isn't that great so I pull out a book.

  Again the feel of someone's stare pulls at my attention. Looking up from the book, I find Rolex Daytona from the elevator two tables away staring at me again. This is ridiculous. He is acting as if this is his first time being up close to a woman that wasn't his cousin.

  My first instinct is to play tit for tat and have a stare down with him. Then walk over there and give him a piece of my mind, but the cafeteria is near empty and he seems mentally unstable, so I opt to return to my book.

  After ten minutes of looking blankly at page two hundred, I decide to put the book away. Looking up, I'm relieved to see that my stalker is gone. Checking my watch, it's already ten to. I better hurry. I grab my stuff and head to my interview

  On the thirtieth floor the reception area is right by the elevators. There is a middle aged Latino woman behind the desk. I inform her that I have an appointment with Rachel Schwartz in Human Resources. A few minutes later Rachel comes to the reception area to greet me. We make small talk as I follow her to a conference room down the hall. She asks a few questions about my resume. Knowing that she knows nothing about accounting I keep my answers short and simple.

  "I don't think I have any more questions. Do you have any more questions for me?" I pretend to consider then tell her no.

  "I'll have Peter come in."

  "Alright."

  "He should be in shortly," she informs me before exiting the room. Alone in the windowless rectangular room I stand up and smooth out my suit. After pulling the mirror from my purse for on last check I sit back down and wait. Moments later, a well-built caramel toned man walks into the room. He seems as surprised to see me as I am to see him.

  "Leah Lovemann?"

  "You're correct," I say coolly.

  "Just making sure, I've walked into the wrong room before and interviewed the wrong person."

  I half laugh. "When did you realize it was the wrong person?"

  "An hour later, at the end of the interview."

  "I don't believe you. You seem too smart for that."

  "Well, it's true. I guess I'm dumber than I look." He smiles, exposing the light hint of dimples.

  "That's not what I meant."

  "No worries, but seriously, Jacob, he's dumber than he looks. Don't tell him I told you." I laugh politely.

  "Peter Boyd," he says extending his hand; I connect with a firm gri
p. Peter is confident and relaxed which makes me feel comfortable. As he places his paper work on the table a gold band on his left ring finger catches my eye.

  "Tell me about yourself Leah." He settles into the seat directly across the table from me.

  "Sure." I begin to go through my experience with Deloitte.

  He cuts me off. "I meant personally. Tell me about you as a person. We'll go into your professional background when Jacob joins us."

  "Jacob Boyd the CEO?" Denise told me I would only be interviewing with Peter. She is so incompetent.

  "Correct. Will that be a problem?"

  "No not at all. He must be an extremely hands on CEO. Does he usually take part in interviews?"

  "Let's continue. Where were we...oh, you were telling me about yourself."

  I'm taken off guard by the way he evades my question but I'll roll with it. "What would you like to know?"

  "Anything you want to tell me?"

  "As you can tell from my resume I'm from New York. I live in Brooklyn."

  "Did you grow up there?"

  "I grew up in Greenwich Village."

  "Nice are. Why do you want to leave New York?"

  I anticipated the question and give the answer that I rehearsed. "I'm ready for a challenge. I want to leave public accounting and focus on the insurance industry."

  "And you don't want to do that in New York?"

  "No," is all that I offer him as a response.

  "Do you have family there?"

  "No." My irritation is expressed in my tone. "Why?"

  "I just want to make sure you won't get home sick after a couple of months and move back. That's all, nothing more. How are you enjoying Philadelphia so far?"

  "I like it."

  "I went to school in Brooklyn, my brothers and I."

  "Where?" The change in topic slightly interests me.

  "Brooklyn College."

  "Really?" How does someone who graduates from Brooklyn College become the CFO of a multi-billion dollar corporation? I went to Yale and I am applying for a corporate controller position. The scales don't feel balanced here.

  "That's where I met my wife. She -" There's a knock on the door. "That's probably Jake. Come in." The door opens. I shift my body to see the person...

  Oh no - Jacob Boyd is Rolex Daytona. Crap!

  Ridiculous things like this only happen to me.

  His face is expressionless when he sees me. I swallow hard and struggle to remain poised.

  He walks in and closes the door behind him. Peter makes the introduction. "Leah, this is Jacob our CEO." Rising from my chair, I maintain eye contact and extend my hand to greet him with a professional hand shake.

  "Hello, I'm Leah Lovemann."

  "Jacob Boyd." He takes my hand in a formal quick firm grip before taking the seat next to Peter.

  "Should we start?" Peter suggests. "Tell us about your experience at Deloitte."

  As I go through my time at Deloitte and my management experience I'm pretty confident. My energy level is high. I'm maintaining eye contact with both men and talking at a steady pace.

  "I manage a diverse staff of six..."

  Jacob's eyes become fixed on me. He is surveying me with such an intimate familiarity. It’s disconcerting to say the least. I'm struggling to remain collected.

  Bringing my gaze back to Peter I continue with my explanation. "My staff consists of auditors from different industries and different skill levels. My ability to manage them so efficiently..." Returning my gaze to Jacob, our eyes lock for several seconds too long. Transfixed and unraveling I lose my train of thought and stop speaking mid-sentence.

  "Please continue Leah," Peter says snapping me back into reality.

  "Definitely...as I was saying...let me rephrase that..." I'm not sure what to rephrase since I can't remember what I was saying or what I was about to say. With my composure now gone, I begin fiddling with my hands like an intimated associate straight out of college. To buy myself a few seconds I clear my throat. Needing something to say, I begin to babble about my management style, not sure if I'm making sense.

  "Take your time," Peter says patiently while writing something down on a sticky note. He places the note on what appears to be financial statements that he brought with him. "Excuse me Leah...I forgot to give this to you Jake." Peter slides the note and financials to Jacob who continues to make me wish I had super powers so I can turn invisible.

  "What changes, if any, would you make to your management style to transition into this position?" Peter asks. Composing my nerves, I answer his question while risking a quick glance at Jacob, who reads the note than crumbles it up. I continue to explain the flexibility of my management style by using the diversity of my current staff as an example.

  "Excuse me," Jacob stands up from his chair leaving the financials on the table. "I have a meeting that I must attend. It was a pleasure meeting you Ms. Lovemann."

  "The feeling is mutual, Mr. Boyd." My legs are too weak to get up. I offer him an ungainly wave of the hand.

  Instantly, after his exit I exhale an internal sigh of relief. What was all that about? Really weird.

  "What experience do you have in the insurance industry?" Peter asks without offering any explanation for Jacob Boyd’s behavior. In response to his question I throw the names of Deloitte's top clients in the insurance industry at him, and follow that up with my solid Sarbanes Oxley experience.

  Somehow, we end up talking about our college years, politics, and how much I will love Philadelphia. The more we talk the more the idea of working for Peter is becoming appealing. Jacob is a little weird but no work place is perfect.

  "So how soon can you start?" Peter asks taking me off guard.

  Did he just offer me the job?

  "Well," I say hesitantly. "Whatever job I choose to accept, I'll need to give Deloitte three weeks notice."

  Smiling at me coyly he plays offended. "Whatever job you choose to accept? You're being courted Ms. Lovemann. Over here at United Blue we don't take rejection well. It's a self-esteem thing."

  I laugh. "Really, I wasn't aware of that."

  "Now you know so -"

  There's another knock at the door.

  "Come in," Peter calls out.

  It's the cheap blonde that held the elevator doors for me earlier today. She sees me, a surprised look chases across her sharp features, swiftly followed by a smile. I don't return the smile. "Excuse me Peter Jacob would like to speak with you."

  "Sure," he says getting up. "Ashley this is Leah Lovemann our new corporate controller for the Northeast region." I give him a questioning look.

  That was a definite job offer.

  "Leah, this is Ashley Pratt, Jacob's Administrative Assistant."

  "Nice to meet you Ashley."

  "We already met in the elevator," Ashley reminds me. I pretend as if I don't know what she's talking about. "It was me, you, and Jacob."

  "That's right. I remember. You held the elevator doors for me."

  "Nice to see you again."

  "I'll be right back," Peter tells me before following Ashley out the door.

  A few minutes later Peter returns looking uneasy. "Leah, something has come up requiring my attention. I have to return to my office. I'll have Ashley show you out."

  "No problem."

  After leaving the United Blue building I take my time walking back to the hotel. Looking around at Philadelphia, it's beginning to feel like home, my new home. This feels right, this is where I belong. Maybe I'll stay an extra day and go look at some apartments tomorrow, since I'm already here.