Nina
Everyone has been acting so weird this past week and it annoyed the hell out of me. Every time I called Dylan to get an update on this party she’s supposed to be throwing Drew, she gave me the runaround. Something was up and I didn’t like it, but what was I going to do? She was being professional, and I was just being nosy.
This particular morning found me wandering through Colt’s house alone. He’d gone off to work super early to finish something that I’m sure he talked about it while I was half asleep. He didn’t realize the importance of me working for myself was so that I didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn. There weren’t markets I needed to watch, or people in some opposite corner of the world I had to speak to. I worked late and went to bed late so I could wake up late, unless the job required me to do the work on the premises.
Today was a meeting with a potential new client. While I loved working for a college in Broad City, I knew that it wasn’t a long-term position. They had an entire department of finance, governed by city officials, to do what they were paying me to do. I understood the dollars and cents of having me do it, but they would burn me out before I earned the full potential of this gig.
H. Richards Body Shops was a chain of body shops spread across the tri-state area. I think this was Heath’s company, one of Colt’s friends. However, their headquarters was close to Cocoa Caffeine. I was excited to throw on the suit Colt bought for me. It was navy blue and accentuated my curves nicely. I picked out a silk magenta blouse as a pop of color to contrast the overflow of muted earth tones sprinkled around because of the fall season. I wanted to stand out.
The tall building blended into the rest and I exited my car after finding a parking spot close to the entrance. Yes,mycar. Colt convinced me to keep it at his place while I searched for a new spot to move into. Although, he’s dropped a few hints that he didn’t want me to leave.
The biggest hint was when he cleared out half his closet for me to move some of my stuff inside and he told me I could turn his home office into my own. I thoroughly appreciated that because every time he saw me working, it was a turn on like I was a sexy librarian and he couldn't control himself. I loved every minute of it, but I could not have him sex me up and down every time I was crunching numbers for clients.
We’d been really comfortable living together but I didn’t want to impose either. I’d have to work that out later though. Right now, my focus needed to be on this meeting.
The cement clicked under my shoes. People walked by like I blended into the background. I heard the soft rumble of thunder in the distance and it reminded me of the day I met Colt. So much has happened since that day so many months ago.
When I pushed my way through the revolving door and stepped into the lobby of the office building, I wasn’t sure of what to expect. The security guard at the reception desk looked sweet enough as I approached with a large smile.
“Good morning, I’m Nina Wilkins. I have an appointment with Mrs. Gail Rollins of H. Richards Body Shop?”
“Yes, good morning,” the young man smiled. “I have your appointment here. Please take this visitor’s pass. You’re going to head up to the third floor and Mrs. Rollins will meet you there.”
I thanked him and made my way to the elevator bank, where a group of people waited quietly, many scrolling mindlessly through their phones. The elevator ride was short and as soon as I got off, a woman who bared an odd resemblance to a yellow squash introduced herself as Mrs. Rollins.
The office was fairly quiet and didn’t scream body shop. It was far too quiet. The soft sounds of people typing on keyboards made me look around. It felt like I was in the wrong place. Still, I followed Mrs. Rollins into a conference room where a bunch of boxes sat on top of the table at one end. A chair and a stack of papers waited for me at the other.
The wordsCONFIDENTIALshouted at me off the contract in front of me and it gave me the same vibes as the Core organization. The last thing I needed or wanted was another company that would hold my pay hostage until I agreed to work a nine to five for them.
“These are the non-disclosure agreements for this meeting,” Mrs. Rollins informed me. She blew out a breath and pulled out a chair to sit down. I read through the pages and signed them. She seemed pleased by that although her plump face didn’t give much emotion away.
I broke the ice, “I just want to thank you for taking the time out to see me. Normally, people don’t respond so quickly to my proposals or price quotes.”
“Well, it isn’t often that we see such an affordable figure.”
That was a cue for me to raise my rates.
Mrs. Rollins continued, “We have your quote and would like for you to get started immediately. We will provide a machine for you to work from home, and any other machines that you’ll provide to your employees.”
“Um, wait a minute, employees?” I asked her.
“Yes, we have the scope of the projects ahead of us in this,” her voice drifted off as she searched the pages on the table. When she couldn't find what she was looking for, she huffed out an angry breath and pushed herself away from the table. She poked her head out of the door and shouted into the office space, “Dan! Bring that project folder in here!”
“The folder or the whole box?” someone, presumably named Dan, shouted back.
“The entire thing! We don’t want to keep Miss Wilkins and her team waiting!”
“Um, Mrs. Rollins,” I shook my head because clearly our wires were crossed. “I have to apologize because when I put in a bid for this job, I was under the impression that you knew I worked alone as a freelancer.”
“Yes, I’m aware, but the bid you put in was per employee, correct?”
Technically, it was because I was the only employee. “Yes, but see, that’s my rate for me to do this job on my own. I didn’t intend on hiring anybody.”
“Oh no! Don’t worry about that. Here, let me show you what I’m talking about.” She actually smiled as Dan brought in the mysterious box. She pulled the top off and dug out a folder to hand it to me.
I skimmed through the pages as she spoke. “You see we already have a team of freelancers in place. What we want from you is more of a project management role. We don’t have an in-house accountant who’s well-versed across several industries. We’re shifting our focus into an auto parts store since that can be plugged into any town or city without much hoopla. A shop needs all kinds of permits, approvals, waste disposal, and the worst is dealing with differing insurance laws for wrecks.”
“Okay, and how long is this project supposed to last?”
