9│HOW TO SUCCEED IN BUSINESS
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚ ▎❛ 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❜ ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ sᴜᴄᴄᴇᴇᴅ
ɪɴ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss ꒱
❝ WHEN AM I EVER WRONG? ❞
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
"So," Barron began after he took a bite of his Chinese food, "I was thinking, how'd you like to come to work with me for a few days?"
Juliet looked up from where she was concentrating on gathering some noodles with her chopsticks. "At the bank?"
"Yeah. I've been thinking it would be nice for me to bring my daughter to work. You'd get to meet my employees and live day in the life, you know?"
"But isn't it in New York?" she asked. "What about school?"
"Well you could take a few days off as part of a 'work-study' program," he suggested, air quoting the words work-study.
The redhead thought it over as she successfully scooped up some of her food. "What if I don't like it? Or I'm not good at it?"
He shrugged. "That's why it's a trial period. I have no intention of forcing the position on you like my father did."
"What does a banker actually do?" she questioned him curiously.
Barron grinned. "Well, that's what you'll have to find out. I'll leave it as a surprise so you'll agree, champ."
Juliet sighed. "Still trying to find a good nickname, then?"
"I don't give up easy," the dark-haired man replied cheerfully.
"Yeah, well, that makes two of us," the girl stated. She paused to weigh the pros and cons before she said, "alright, I'm in."
Barron beamed happily at his daughter, pleased that she'd agreed. After all, as much as Juliet had wanted the father-daughter experience of dances and softball games, he'd wanted the daughter-father memories of everything that came with raising a child.
🌎🌎🌎
Juliet felt oddly nervous as she walked up the steps and between the front pillars of her father's (her family's) bank, Verona Incorporated. She was wearing her navy-blue pantsuit with her hair done up in a fancy French knot and felt very businesslike as she followed her father through the dark double doors.
The inside reminded her strongly of the Montacute's home with the same shiny, black and white tiled floor. It had an equally similar sense of grandeur that her ex-boyfriend's family home had and its impressiveness was a little intimidating. Bank teller booths lined both sides of the walls which left the middle open with space for people to queue up. Employees passed back and forth behind the barrier or sat at their stations as they waited for customers. Barron paid them little mind as he walked purposefully through the center of the room to reach a inconspicuous brown door that was farther in.
Juliet let out a breath of relief when she saw that the back offices were much less magnificent. Instead, they were typically industrial with clear glass walls to separate the individual rooms. As they continued towards the back, she could see into each workspace as other employees made phone calls or worked on computers. (She was pleased to see that there were a nearly equal number of men and women and that her father had the intuition to hire based on diversity.)
They finally stopped in front of the largest of the offices although they didn't enter right away. To her surprise, Barron turned away from what was clearly his room (as Barron Capelwood, C.E.O. was etched smartly into the glass partition) and entered the office to the right. The plaque on the door read Dolores F. Laurence, Assistant.
A dark-haired woman sat at the desk as she studiously typed away at what was probably a very important e-mail. She looked up as the pair entered and her blue eyes studied them critically as Barron spoke, "good morning, Dolores."
She inclined her head. "Barron. What can I do for you?"
Smiling happily, he gently grasped his daughter's arm and maneuvered her in front of him. "Dolores, this is my daughter, Juliet. Juliet, my assistant Dolores. Nothing would get done without her."
The brunette's stern expression softened as she smiled modestly and rose from her seat to shake the redhead's hand. The girl stuck her own out in greeting and winced slightly at the woman's firm grip. "It's so lovely to finally meet you, Juliet. I've heard so much about you from your father."
"It's nice to meet you too," the redhead replied. "I hope it's all good things."
"He has nothing but praise," Dolores assured her. "I'm looking forward to seeing you in action."
As her face reddened, her father came to her rescue. "It's only her first day, Dolores. Don't intimidate her just yet."
"Diamonds are created under pressure," the woman responded easily as she retook her seat.
"And bread rises as it rests," Juliet countered. "Not everyone succeeds the same way."
A smile curled on the brunette's lips. "Well said. I believe we will get along quite nicely. Barron, a schedule of today's action items have already been sent to your e-mail."
"Thank you, Dolores. I'll see you at lunch."
The pair left the room and returned to Barron's office where he turned to his daughter with a proud look on his face. "It's not easy to impress Dolores. That's one of the reasons why I hired her. I knew you'd do well."
"Thanks, dad," Juliet said, clearly embarrassed.
"Now," Barron started, clapping his hands together, "let's see what's on the schedule today. Unfortunately I don't think there's anything particularly exciting."
They made their way over to the dark-wood desk. The older man sat in the leather chair behind it while Juliet took up a spot next to his shoulder as he turned his computer on. A few moments later, he'd pulled up his e-mail and sighed. "As I expected. I've got to respond to a few of our investors, we have two meetings before lunch and I'm expecting a call from a prospective partner. A typical day I'm afraid."
"That's alright. It doesn't sound so boring," she observed.
Her father scoffed. "Wait until you meet some of these stuffy, holier-than-thou idiots. You'll change your mind then."
"I'll take your word for it," the redhead acquiesced.
🌎🌎🌎
At eleven a.m., Barron led his daughter to one of their several meeting rooms. An older, white-haired man was waiting for them with an impatient look on his face. "Mr. Capelwood, thank you for showing up."
The dark-haired man kept a pleasant expression on his face as he extended a hand. "Mr. Smith, I'm glad you could make it." He dropped his hand after exchanging the greeting. "It seems as if we'll be having an audience for today's meeting. This is my daughter, Juliet Capelwood."
Juliet copied her father's gesture, though the man— Mr. Smith— already looked bored. "Is Dolores joining us then?"
"No," Barron corrected him. He laid a warning hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Juliet is our audience and if you'll please call my assistant Miss Laurence, that would be appreciated."
"Very well," he agreed. "Shall we proceed?"
The trio filed into the room and Juliet took a seat at the long table. Mr. Smith sat down on the opposite side as her father took the head. There were already files and papers on the smooth wooden surface which the men opened and began to discuss.
Much of the talk involved numbers that were hard to keep track of, though Juliet did her best despite math not being her strong suit. There were several mentions of percentages and debts that came from both other companies and the bank's patrons themselves. As far as she could see, though, her father had been right about Mr. Smith.
The older man often talked over the younger as he emphatically discussed his own opinions and giving the barest interest to what Barron had to say. He complained quite a bit about fines that were due and loans that had yet to be paid which she caught her father rolling his eyes at several times. It was nearly an hour into the meeting that anything of note happened.
"One of my moronic sales representatives made two conflicting contracts with prospective partners and now they're both demanding that the agreements be fixed so they each get what the other has," Mr. Smith griped. "They won't compromise and the problem is I can only give them what they were already promised. It's a complete mess, I'm telling you. If neither are satisfied I know they'll give me a bad rap—"
"Why don't you cancel the contracts?" Juliet suggested. "You can do that, right?"
Mr. Smith chuckled pompously. "Now why on Earth would I do that? Both companies are too important for me to lose. Mr. Capelwood, aren't children supposed to be seen and not heard?"
The redhead's eyes narrowed with irritation as she clenched her hands under the table. It was only with great self-control that she didn't make a cutting remark back. Barron gave the older man a look of barely hidden disdain. "Go on, Juliet, what were you thinking?"
"Well," she said rather smugly, "if you take away the contracts, the original agreement will suddenly be in high demand so both companies will compromise and agree to the previous arrangement, thinking that they got the best deal. That is, as long as you think that those companies see the deals are as important as you think they are."
"Of course they do," the older man replied dismissively. "What proof do you have that this will work?"
"I don't," she reluctantly admitted. "Not factual proof, anyway. I have read about a similar compromise in books—"
"Books," Mr. Smith scoffed. "What are fairytales teaching kids these days?"
"How old—" Juliet started heatedly, only to be interrupted by her father.
"I think that is a very astute suggestion, Juliet," Barron said quickly. "If I had the opportunity to try it out, I would, and give you that proof. Why don't you consider it, Mr. Smith?"
"I'll consider it as much as I consider taking a hike in a desert fun," the older man answered indifferently.
🌎🌎🌎
"Shawnie, hi," Juliet said happily into the phone she was holding. After a "long day at the office" it was a relief to talk to her. . . boyfriend. (She was still getting used to thinking of him in that way.)
"'Hey, Julie,'" Shawn greeted her back in Philadelphia. "'How'd the first day go?'"
"It was a great test of my patience," she grumbled as she flopped backwards on her bed to stare up at the ceiling. "You have no idea how irritating most of these men are."
"'Well, if anyone could outsmart them it would be you,'" the dark-haired boy said confidently. "'You're brilliant.'"
"Thanks, Shawnie," the redhead replied softly before she brightened. "Hey, how was your first day at the work-study program?"
"'I— well, it was good. I got promoted,'" he told her, almost sheepishly.
"That's wonderful!" Juliet exclaimed. "On your first day, too. I'm so proud of you."
"'It wasn't much.'" Shawn tried to sound modest, though he was glad that she wasn't there to see the pleased expression on his face (she was proud of him!) "'I just answered a ringing phone and one of the higher-ups heard what I said.'"
"Still," the redhead said, "that's impressive. Unfortunately I'm already as high up as I can go so no promotions for me."
"'It can't get much better than being the C.E.O.'s daughter,'" he agreed.
She frowned slightly. While Shawn did seem proud of his accomplishment, it felt like he should be. . .happier. "What's wrong, Shawnie?"
"'Nothing,'" he told her with surprise. "'Why would you think there was?'"
"Well, you don't seem as happy as you should be."
"'Well, I miss you, for one,'" the dark-haired boy said. He smiled as she repeated the words back. "'And, uh, I suppose that it's because only I got the promotion. Cory didn't.'"
"Shawnie," Juliet began patiently, "Cory doesn't have to share in everything you do. He's our— your— best friend. He should be happy for you, too."
"'Yeah, well, you know how he is.'"
"I do," she allowed, "and so do you. You know he'll make a big deal out of nothing. It'll blow over."
"'I just feel bad for him, you know? He was looking forward to doing well in business and I'm doing better than him.'"
"Let him deal with it," the redhead replied. "It's a rare occasion that you're both good at something."
"'I suppose you're right,'" Shawn admitted.
"Of course I am," she responded flippantly, earning an amused look that she couldn't see. "When am I ever wrong?"
🌎🌎🌎
As the days approached the weekend, Juliet learned much about operating a bank. As it turned out, her father did know all of the names of his employees and took interest in their personal lives as well as any work problems that they needed help resolving. She met so many people she wasn't sure if she could remember the names of all of them, though Dolores, of course, was the easiest to remember.
On Friday, Juliet was scheduled to meet her father in his office to "close out" her own "work-study" program. As she waited for him to arrive, she sat down in his leather chair and spun around in it a few times. On her third spin, the phone on his desk started ringing. Pausing in her rotation, Juliet stared at it for a moment before she picked it up. "Hello, Barron Capelwood's office speaking."
Barron himself appeared in the doorway as she began to talk to the person on the other side. Instead of taking over for her, he watched as she answered what questions she could and wrote down the ones she didn't have information for. Dolores joined him and observed the redhead with interest. "You must be proud of her."
"I am," he agreed easily. "She's a very capable young woman. She's got her mother's temper, though."
"Do you think she'll follow the family tradition?"
"No," the dark-haired man decided. "While she did pick up things quickly I didn't see her have a great love for any of it. She has said before that she'd rather go the philanthropic route. I wouldn't be surprised if she stuck with that."
Once Juliet had hung up the phone, Barron approached the desk and she looked up. "Hey, dad. That was, uh—" She looked at the piece of paper. "Paul Miller. Apparently you have a meeting with him next week and he needed to clarify a few things. He said you could call him back on Monday between three and five."
"I think your position is in jeopardy, Dolores," Barron joked, earning an eyeroll from the brunette. "You've done a fantastic job, superstar."
The redhead sighed as she gave her father a half-exasperated, half-amused look. "Thanks, dad."
[written apr. 2021]
[edited may 2022]
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top