after he passed; when he shut his office door behind him, the spell was broken, and everyone went back to work.
“Give him a minute to get settled in, and then go see him,” Aileen advised me, so exactly one minute later, I knocked on his door, armed with a notepad.
“Come in,” he said, and when I entered the room, the cold air wafting in from the open window circled around my ankles. He’d taken off his jacket, exposing a dark silk shirt that wonderfully spanned the contours of his body. Why did he have to be so tall and muscular? I was hardly going to be able to focus on business.
“Good morning, Mr. Marcs. Your appointments—” I began, but he interrupted me immediately.
“Mr. Marcs? I’m not my dad, Sophia; you can go ahead and call me Luca.” He sat down at his desk, looking amused.
“I’m not used to calling superiors by their first names, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather keep it at Mr. Marcs,” I pleaded.
The twinkle in his eye faded slightly as he regarded me. “If you’re worried that it could somehow compromise our professional relationship, then let me assure you again that everyone here goes by first names. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“That may be, but . . . I’d still rather call you Mr. Marcs,” I said. I definitely did not want any kind of friendly rapport to develop between us. He was my boss, and I was his employee, and either he respected that, or this wasn’t going to work.
He must have read as much on my face, because eventually he gave in with a sigh. “Fair enough . . . for the time being. And now, please, sit down.” He gestured at a free seat.
I did as requested and got straight down to business. “Harry Cooper called and wants to arrange a new appointment with you—they’re still interested. Mr. Wiens and Mr. Andenburg agreed to meet you for dinner. After eight would be best for them.” As I went through my notes, I felt his eyes on me, which made me nervous. Sure, this was how every morning would start from now on, but his intimidating presence would still take some getting used to. “Luis wants to talk to you about the air-conditioning in the building, particularly in the elevators, and . . . I believe you haven’t been to the gym in a while. In over a year, to be precise. I know it’s none of my business, but maybe you should consider canceling your membership? I can take care of that for you,” I offered awkwardly. This was exactly the kind of thing I didn’t want to know about.
“Really? Huh. I thought I had done that a long time ago. At some point I got sick of the gym and started jogging,” he murmured as though to himself, without a hint of self-consciousness. Didn’t he find it embarrassing to talk about this with his assistant? Then he looked at me, and he realized that I was blushing wildly. “You find it unpleasant to discuss my personal affairs with me?” he asked, and that mischievous look returned to his eyes. He obviously enjoyed seeing me uncomfortable.
“Well, I’m fresh from law school, where data protection and privacy play important roles. So, yes, I find it unpleasant,” I admitted. Lying wouldn’t have done any good, anyway, because he could see how I felt.
He folded his hands behind his head. “It doesn’t bother me at all, you know? I’m used to people being able to see my cards. Been that way since I was little.”
Tell me about it. I’d never been able to keep anything secret from my mother, either. She’d gone through my e-mails, listened in on my calls, and pumped my friends for information about me. That crazy woman. I was so glad to finally be rid of her. “But that’s . . . sad, isn’t it?” I asked. “Never having your own space, always having to explain yourself, always being under observation.” I couldn’t suppress the note of pain in my voice.
He straightened up a little, as though he’d heard it, too, and regarded me thoughtfully. “Sounds like you have some experience with that as
“Give him a minute to get settled in, and then go see him,” Aileen advised me, so exactly one minute later, I knocked on his door, armed with a notepad.
“Come in,” he said, and when I entered the room, the cold air wafting in from the open window circled around my ankles. He’d taken off his jacket, exposing a dark silk shirt that wonderfully spanned the contours of his body. Why did he have to be so tall and muscular? I was hardly going to be able to focus on business.
“Good morning, Mr. Marcs. Your appointments—” I began, but he interrupted me immediately.
“Mr. Marcs? I’m not my dad, Sophia; you can go ahead and call me Luca.” He sat down at his desk, looking amused.
“I’m not used to calling superiors by their first names, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather keep it at Mr. Marcs,” I pleaded.
The twinkle in his eye faded slightly as he regarded me. “If you’re worried that it could somehow compromise our professional relationship, then let me assure you again that everyone here goes by first names. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“That may be, but . . . I’d still rather call you Mr. Marcs,” I said. I definitely did not want any kind of friendly rapport to develop between us. He was my boss, and I was his employee, and either he respected that, or this wasn’t going to work.
He must have read as much on my face, because eventually he gave in with a sigh. “Fair enough . . . for the time being. And now, please, sit down.” He gestured at a free seat.
I did as requested and got straight down to business. “Harry Cooper called and wants to arrange a new appointment with you—they’re still interested. Mr. Wiens and Mr. Andenburg agreed to meet you for dinner. After eight would be best for them.” As I went through my notes, I felt his eyes on me, which made me nervous. Sure, this was how every morning would start from now on, but his intimidating presence would still take some getting used to. “Luis wants to talk to you about the air-conditioning in the building, particularly in the elevators, and . . . I believe you haven’t been to the gym in a while. In over a year, to be precise. I know it’s none of my business, but maybe you should consider canceling your membership? I can take care of that for you,” I offered awkwardly. This was exactly the kind of thing I didn’t want to know about.
“Really? Huh. I thought I had done that a long time ago. At some point I got sick of the gym and started jogging,” he murmured as though to himself, without a hint of self-consciousness. Didn’t he find it embarrassing to talk about this with his assistant? Then he looked at me, and he realized that I was blushing wildly. “You find it unpleasant to discuss my personal affairs with me?” he asked, and that mischievous look returned to his eyes. He obviously enjoyed seeing me uncomfortable.
“Well, I’m fresh from law school, where data protection and privacy play important roles. So, yes, I find it unpleasant,” I admitted. Lying wouldn’t have done any good, anyway, because he could see how I felt.
He folded his hands behind his head. “It doesn’t bother me at all, you know? I’m used to people being able to see my cards. Been that way since I was little.”
Tell me about it. I’d never been able to keep anything secret from my mother, either. She’d gone through my e-mails, listened in on my calls, and pumped my friends for information about me. That crazy woman. I was so glad to finally be rid of her. “But that’s . . . sad, isn’t it?” I asked. “Never having your own space, always having to explain yourself, always being under observation.” I couldn’t suppress the note of pain in my voice.
He straightened up a little, as though he’d heard it, too, and regarded me thoughtfully. “Sounds like you have some experience with that as
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