Page 33 of Out of Office

After a round of updates and a presentation of each of our expansion plans, the meeting adjourned, and I braced myself for the barrage of emails waiting for me.

“So, how do you like it so far?” Anibal’s long strides kept up with my speed as I navigated the sleek hallways back to my office.

“It’s all I imagined, and then another additional pile of work. I wasn’t expecting for them to add acquisitions and contracts to our responsibilities.” More work. More work seemed to be the recurring theme of my promotion. Do this, but title is the same. Do that, but of course you are a salaried team member. I didn’t usually allow dissatisfaction to color my thoughts about work. The only thing I understood was corporate America. My personality suited my work perfectly. My profession was a solid one, reliable even in times of financial concerns because the target market that traveled to our hotels was high-earning individuals. I had ensured I was in a field that would support me and my little savings fund for retirement for the rest of my life. There was no pot of gold waiting for me when I was no longer capable of working. My mom was the perfect example; she’d worked hard and whenever she decided to retire she’d be able to do so comfortably. So complaining about work seemed counterproductive, or at least it used to feel that way.

“Yeah, there was a rumor for months that they were going to slim down that department. Now that Finn and Thomas retired, the biggest detractors, Ricard made the move,” Anibal said as we turned into my office, which I had already made mine with all gold and white office supplies, a few frames from photos I took from Panamá and other islands on the walls, a scent machine and dehumidifier and foot massager tucked in below my desk.

“Interesting, it truly does double our workload. I wish I’d known Finn and Thomas were detractors of the idea,” I said absentmindedly as I cracked open my laptop to see any emails. Moving through the paces as my brain flooded with additional to-do lists. I wondered what Adrián would think of this conversation? Of me confronting the load of more work that I hadn’t signed up for, but which would be thrust upon me regardless of my feelings?

“Yeah, big-time. They didn’t feel the support work required for the field is possible if we are focused on acquisitions. They believe the field is gonna suffer for it. But the compensation packages make sense, and we get bonuses for each acquisition signed.”

“Mmm... I don’t disagree with them about the field suffering. I have been thinking of that. I haven’t been able to get out yet, and it’s been six weeks since I got promoted.”

“Tell me about it. I’m one of the lucky ones with my hotels being right here. But y’all have it harder. One of Finn’s recommendations was to source people from the areas they serve so that at least travel was more manageable, but they continuously hire from within the office or Florida.”

I stared at my computer, everything vanishing as the three hundred emails awaited in bold for my review. I snapped the laptop close with dread and attempted to focus on Anibal.

“Mmm, micromanaging much? And...why are you so chatty? You weren’t this forthcoming before I took the job.”

“I’m not dense. I wasn’t about to sell you the nightmare. I needed to market the dream.”

“Damn, I thought you had my back.”

“I do. And both of us know you’re hungry to tackle it all. To prove that this is doable, so...”

Anibal didn’t know me. Okay, maybe he knew me a little.

“I mean, it is exciting, right? To establish the ways we can optimize our time and our efforts? I’m working on some special reporting I want to roll out to the hotels in my region to be able to have live results daily so I can quickly pinpoint any areas of—”

Anibal raised his hand and stopped me.

“Two seconds ago, you looked sick when you saw your emails. Now you are over here telling me how you added more work to your day...girl, you need help, honestly. Why don’t you go home, take your laptop and work from there? It’s six already. We should both head out.” Anibal stood up, and I wondered how he managed to keep his suits so crisp through the day. I stared longingly at my cell phone, wondering if Adrián was already home and we could chat, but then I stared at my laptop, and the tug of responsibility had me wondering what to do.

“Hold up...what was that face?” Anibal asked from the door.

“What face?”

“That ‘I have a date waiting for me in my bed, and I wish I was rich and didn’t have a job’ face.” Anibal pointed at me, snapping his fingers.

“Okay...that seemed oddly specific... Anibal, you tired. You’re imagining things.”

“No, I’m not...you have someone. I have worked with you for five years since I joined the company. I know that face.”

“Shhh.” I stood up, deciding to finish things at home. Home where I had the privacy to get on the phone and...

“There, there it is again.”

“Stop. Let’s go. You can pick up your laptop and stuff as we pass by your office toward the elevator.”

Anibal chuckled, then moved aside to let me out.

“Nah, I’m not taking my laptop. It’s Monday. All those emails will be there tomorrow.”

As I drove home, I wondered if Anibal had it right and if I was wrong in planning to work through the night to catch up. Then, I thought about how Anibal had had his position for years, whereas I was just establishing myself. This was normal. I would get things under control soon enough. There, that was better. Positive thinking. No more dread about the job and what it entailed. Of what it meant for my social life, or lack thereof. It helped that before checking all my emails, I had that date, even if it was only on the phone.

Sixteen

Adrián

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