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Why would pay increases be on hold when we make the magazine so much damn money?
The elevator ride feels endless as people get off and on each floor until it finally reaches the tenth floor, which houses World Tripping and its couple hundred or so employees.
I pass by the receptionist and she stops me with a wave of her hands.
“Did you hear?” she whisper shouts at me.
“Hear what?” I ask with confusion.
“We have a new Editor in Chief.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask. Did I hear that right?
“Mr. Williams stepped down. That was whatever he was talking about yesterday. No one even knew, not even his assistant. But apparently, it’s been on the hush-hush between him and HR.”
“Why the heck didn’t he just say that?” I ask.
“It’s been some super secret that he had,” she replies.
“So, who’s the new guy? Or gal?” I ask.
“I don’t know. He hasn’t come in yet. But check your email, Mr. Williams sent something early this morning saying that there will be a meeting off site to meet the new guy. The address where we all have to go is in there.”
“Weird.” I note.
Why would the meeting be held offsite?
I shake my head and walk through the maze of cubicles to get to mine. I set my belongings down on the side of my desk and start my computer then directly open my emails.
There it is. His apologies for not going into details, for not preparing anyone, but that he has personal things to tend to that take precedent.
Whatever.
The off-site meeting will take place in a little over an hour, so I go through all my other emails and fill up my time until the floor empties and we make our way to a performance hall on the next block.
We all jam into the space and take our seats that face a stage.
“Who the heck does this guy think he is for needing a huge stage? What is he, some big shot?” my work bestie, Olivia asks.
“I mean, he probably is. I wouldn’t be able to see Mr. Williams ever offering the magazine to anyone who isn’t anything less. You know how Mr. Williams thought special of himself.” I whisper.
“I hear that he’s new to town and is from one of the big five,” Shane says from beside me.
“Who would leave one of those places to come and work for our magazine? It’s not like we’re that huge. And it’s totally different.” Olivia says.
“I beg to differ. We’re read nationally. Our largest demographic is age thirty to sixty.” Shane replies.
We don’t try to correct him, since he’s an analyst and it’s his job to know these kinds of facts. While we wait for the show to begin, we face the stage. I thumb through my Facebook feed on my phone to kill time.
The lights go down and a spotlight shines on stage right. I see the purple curtains move and out comes a tall figure, dressed impeccably in a three-piece gray suit with brown shoes that clack against the hardwood until he makes his way to center stage. He pulls the microphone that I didn’t see before and taps it gently before putting it in front of his mouth.
Then he smiles.
“Holy shit!” I say a little loud that many people around me snicker.
It’s Prince Charming!
The room is silent, and I can hear my heart beat with every breath that I take.
