The New York sky was resplendent with sunset hues in the summer evening. Looking up from under the eaves, the arches and columns of the buildings along Fifth Avenue sliced the sky into fragments.
The boss and the secretary were dining in a suite restaurant on the hotel's top floor with the client. Jenny was not qualified to stand beside them; she held her briefcase by the window of one of the suite's sitting rooms, gazing at the sky outside.
Faint conversation drifted from the next room. It seemed the guest was very satisfied with the boss's arrangements. Jenny pulled out her pocket watch and glanced at the time. She wasn't starving—the hotel had already laid out various pastries on the coffee table in the sitting room.
In this interval of waiting, Jenny felt a sense of unreality. A few days ago, she had been in the office, racking her brains over a few pieces of text. Now, inexplicably, she was here, part of the secretariat.
Through the window, she could see the slightly smaller hotel diagonally opposite—the very place she had temporarily stayed before formally joining the company. It truly felt like a lifetime ago.
Preview