Page 3 of Every Broken Piece
“New client. Got it.” Most people call me Tess except for Mary. Mary’s no-nonsense, and a bit of a stickler when it comes to the rules. If my name is Theresa, then Theresa she will call me. It’s whatever at this point. I’ve given up trying to get her to call me Tess. Somedays I don’t think Mary likes me much. She’s hot and cold and that stresses me out because I want everyone to like me. I mean, who doesn’t want everyone to like them? I know it’ssilly, but it’s the people pleaser in me. That’s why I’m good at what I do. I like to please my clients. Nothing gives me greater satisfaction.
“He’s a big client,” Mary says, her tone almost comically serious. “Like, really big. I haven’t spoken to him myself, but I spoke at length to his business partner. This client needs a VA on the east coast. He’ll also have an assistant for the west coast as well.”
My fingers pause over the keyboard. “He needs two assistants? I can handle both east and west coast.” I’ve done it before. It’s not that big of a deal.
“That’s not what they’re looking for.” I can almost hear Mary’s eye roll.
“East coast. Got it.” If that’s what the client wants, that’s what the client gets. “And what will my duties be?”
“I guess he does a lot of business all over the world. He’ll need help with hotel reservations as well as dinner reservations and whatever else he deems necessary.”
So my new client is a him.
“I’ll send over the information I have. Read it carefully. And, Theresa, it goes without saying that you need to treat him well. If he gives us a good recommendation it will be a boon to the company.”
“Of course.” I’m only slightly offended that she felt the need to say that. I treat all my clients well. That’s why I’ve kept almost all of my original clients. Not to toot my own horn, but they love me because I love them. And because I treat them well. That’s how this all works. But naturally I keep those thoughts to myself.
I hit send on my email and wait for more from Mary. There’s always more. She’s a micro-manager. Most of the other VA’s hate her because she’s always interfering with their clients, not to mention the whole stickler for rules thing. One of which is don’t become too friendly with the clients. In Mary’s book thatmeans you can’t even be friends with them. Which is stupid. My author client and I have become close. We’ve exchanged personal phone numbers and texts occasionally. That would be grounds for termination in Mary’s eyes.
Like clockwork Mary starts grilling me on what I’ve accomplished this week and what I need to accomplish. I keep my patience until she runs out of steam and ends the call.
A few minutes later her email arrives with the new client form attached.
Gabriel Strong.
That name sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it. As I skim through the new client intake form, I realize I’ve read about Mr. Strong before, but I don’t remember anything about him other than I’ve heard him mentioned in some news articles and maybe a magazine cover?
I open Google and search Strong Sterling Enterprises. I eagerly wade into the boatload of information pops up because research is my jam.
Strong Sterling Enterprises was started twenty years ago by Gabriel Strong and his brother, Jack Sterling. It’s a unique business concept that immediately intrigues me. The brothers are unofficially known as “The Fixers”.
If you have a business that needs fixing, you call them to help you.
They started out in cyber security but Gabriel Strong quickly became known for turning around other aspects of failing businesses. He’ll determine why the business is struggling and propose changes. Nearly all the companies he’s tried to fix that have taken his recommendations to heart have made comebacks. That phrase “that have taken his recommendations to heart” is mentioned multiple times in multiple articles, which leads me to believe that those who didn’t take hisrecommendations to heartcontinued on a downward path.
Strong Sterling was so successful that they implemented a forensic accounting division specializing in embezzlement.
My eyes widen when I see the price of hiring Gabriel Strong. Anywhere from high six, to low-seven figures. A million dollars. Per contract.
Out of curiosity I type in “Gabriel Strong’s net worth” and sit back with my mouth open. His personal worth is three billion. Billion. Not million. Ho-lycow.
No wonder he needs two assistants. But why a virtual assistant? Why not hire an in-person assistant?
My heart’s fluttering because I’ve never had a client like this before. This is major.
Makes me wonder why Mary assigned Mr. Strong to me. Don’t we have a department that specializes in high end clients?
My fingers start flexing because now my heart is beating in excitement. This is a challenge, and I didn’t realize until now how much I needed a challenge. I’ve had my other clients for so long that it’s become rote. Easy. But this... This is exciting and different.
Curious as to what he looks like, I click on images and...
Oh. My.
My author client/friend needs to see this because this man fits the term silver fox to a T. Like he’s the definition of silver fox. Navy blue eyes. A close-cropped beard liberally sprinkled with gray. Dark hair, with just a touch of white. He’s lean with wide shoulders and slim hips. Athletic looking. The picture I’m looking at has him in a tux at some gala, staring directly into the camera. He’s not smiling. In fact, he kind of looks pissed off. There’s a hardness about him. A coldness to those blue eyes that warns people to stay back.
I click out of Google but can’t get the image of the man out of my mind. He’s definitely hot, but he’s also a client. An importantclient according to Mary and I’ll treat him like I treat every other client—with respect and professionalism.
I click on another article from one of those men’s magazines that are really for women who want to look at hot, rich guys. He’s leaning against the front of a desk, arms crossed and even though he’s in a suit coat I can see the muscles beneath. A bank of windows is behind him and tall, snow-capped mountains beyond that. I don’t know much about fashion but that navy suit that matches his eyes was definitely made just for him. His white shirt is open at the collar hinting at a sliver of skin. He looks exactly like what he is—a rich businessman who built an empire from the bottom up.
