Дъщерята на главния изпълнителен директор (дъщеря на изпълнителния директор № 1)

THE TORNADO CHAPTER 1

  "I don't want to do Google Calendar.  I want you to write things on this calendar and put it on my desk, where it's always been.   I've been doing it this way for the 16 years this company has been around and the 20 before than that at the ad agency.  Don't you tell me what is, or isn't, productive."  Harold Carson, overweight, red faced and much older than his 56 years, stands behind his desk with a desk calendar in his hand.  "If you're going to keep working here, you're going to have to learn to do things my way.  Bridgeport Marketing has been one of the top marketing companies in West Virginia for over 16 years, and we plan on staying that way.  Get with the program Carmen, or get out."

  Carmen Hernandez, 30, is pretty in an unconventional way, slightly overweight with full lips and long dark, straight hair.  Her almond eyes have a scared look in them.  Even though her last two jobs were for difficult men, Harold is the worst of them.  He is so demanding and condescending, but Carmen had to take this job.  After rear-ending someone without insurance, she needs to pay back the insurance company and damages to the driver and it never seems to end.

"Yes, Mr. Carson. I will order new calendars for the office."

"Jesus, Carmen, we already have them.  I just want you to use them."  Harold takes a swig of his Coke and takes a bite of his pickle.  A little pickle juice slides down his chin.  "And next time tell the deli the sandwich is for me and they know I want an extra pickle."

"I did tell them that, but I'll make sure they know for the next time. Sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry Carmen, I want you to do it right."  Harold picks up a small audiotape and hands it to Carmen.  "I took notes on the Doller$ and Cent$ meeting and need you to transcribe them."   Carmen takes the micro tape.  "Before you leave today.  There's about 45 minutes of audio on there."

"Yes, Mr. Carson." Carmen inches out towards the back of the office, her high heels killing her. "Do you want me to close this?"

"No, leave it open so the world can irritate me while I'm working. Don't be so daft, Carmen, CLOSE THE DOOR when you leave my office. Always."

"Yes, Mr. Carson."  Carmen fights the urge to slam the door shut, but resists.  "I really need this job."   Carmen whispers to herself.  "One year and I can find something else.  Just one year."  Carmen adjusts her jacket and steadies herself on her heels.  She never wore heels for any job she's ever had in her 15 years of employment but this job paid a little more than the other three she interviewed for, so if Mr. Carson wanted her to wear a Playboy bunny suit, she would.  She laughs to herself, yeah, that would be good for business.  Might let Mr. Carson know there was a person in front of him and not just a sounding board.

Carmen looks across the office at the other workers.  There was Richard Tanner, CFO, his door is closed, as usual.  Carmen had to go in there once when he was gone.  He had left his computer on, and all these "BBBW" sites were up; Big Black Beautiful Women.  Carmen laughed.  This mild mannered uptight white guy watched porn in his office and jerked off all day.   Carmen always wonders what Mr. Carson would say about that.

Mel Katz is staring at her from under his glasses.  He thought his glasses might have hidden where his blue eyes were, but whenever Carmen looked at him, they were focused on her.  She smiled at him and he looked down, suddenly flustered.