Page 39 of Sweet Heat at Bayside
How can we have just begun
When it feels like you’ve been here all along?
He sang a few more verses, and as the last words left his lips, tears streamed down Serena’s cheeks and trembling hands covered her mouth and nose. He lowered the guitar in one hand, and she threw her arms around his neck.
Cheers and applause rang from a crowd that had formed out around them.
“Ihavebeen here all along,” she said through kisses. “Just like you have.”
“And I always will be.”
Chapter Eleven
I BET PICKING out an outfit to wear the first day of work is ten times harder than choosing a wedding dress! I have to run. Tell everyone I say hi, and when Drake gets back from his run, give him a big sloppy kiss on the cheek for me!Serena sent the text to Desiree, shoved her phone in the messenger bag Mira insisted she buy at The Now, and headed into the elevator of her office building. She was still on an adrenaline high from her time with Drake. Starting her new job added a dose of nervous energy to the adrenaline.
She wasbuzzing!
Two sharply dressed men in suits entered the elevator, flashing friendly enough glances before returning to their conversation. The taller of the two glanced over again. His bright green eyes held a silent greeting. She imagined Drake standing next to her, growling at the guy, and suppressed a giggle. A pretty, painfully skinny blond woman and a lanky, bearded guy wearing thick, black-framed glasses and skinny dress slacks stepped in, standing against the side wall. Serena smiled, feeling confident in her red pencil skirt and white blouse. They smiled, then tipped their heads, whispering to each other. She felt like the new girl at school.
KHB inhabited the top three floors of the fifteen-story building. Reception and administrative support was on the thirteenth floor, the designers inhabited the fourteenth, and the executives were on the fifteenth. One of the suited men stepped off the elevator with her and headed through the glass doors like he was on a mission. Too busy talking into his phone, the man didn’t say hello to the receptionist, Carolyn, whom Serena had met during her interview.
Carolyn sat pin straight, a black headset at the ready as she efficiently and professionally answered several calls. She held up one finger with a practiced smile, but her eyes gave away her happiness to see Serena. Her professionalism coupled with the severe cut and the model-perfect shine of her black hair, expertly applied makeup, and French manicure gave off a slightly hoity-toity vibe. But Serena knew better. Carolyn had been leaving work when Serena had left after her interview, and they’d had coffee together downstairs. She was easy to talk to, and it had become clear that her prim persona was merely a front she put on as a representative of the company.
Carolyn ended her call and stood up quickly, leaning across the desk and waving her hands. “Get in here and hug me!” she said quietly. “I was so happy when they said they hired you. You look amazing.”
“Thank you! I’m so nervous. I have no idea where to go.”
The phone rang, and Carolyn held up her finger again as she answered it and settled back into her seat. After sending the call to its recipient, she said, “Don’t be nervous. You’ll do great. You’re starting with Chiara Twain, our human resources coordinator.” She pronounced the woman’s nameChee-ar-ah. “She’s relatively new, too. You’ll love her. After you fill out a mountain of paperwork, she’ll show you around the offices, and then she’ll bring you down to meet with Suzanne. I’ll let Chiara know you’re here.”
Carolyn answered another call, and Serena stepped back from the desk to wait, feeling a little more at ease. Several people came through the reception area. Some flashed tight smiles, but others were too busy on their phones to notice anything as they crossed the hardwood floors to the white marble reception desk.
“Serena?” An energetic blonde hurried across the floor in her sky-high heels as though they were flats, her hand outstretched. “I’m Chiara Twain, your go-to gal for all things human resources related. Everyone mispronounces my name, so just think of a cheering cheetah.Chee-ar-ah. Shall we get started?”
“Yes, thank you.” She wished she could rush through the human resource part of her day and race upstairs to get started, even though she liked Chiara.
As they weaved through the elegant offices, their heels silenced by plush carpeting, the din of busy employees filled the air. Chiara spoke in a hushed tone as phones rang out around them and people hurried past. The thrill of it all eased Serena’s nerves, and she tried to remember every face on the way to Chiara’s office.
“I haven’t been to the Cape, but it’s on my bucket list,” Chiara confided. “I’d imagine, though, that you might experience a little culture shock with the move. I know I did when I moved from Reno last month.”
“It’s definitely different. At the resort we wore whatever was comfortable, and there is no Boston Design Center, that’s for sure.” Boston Design Center was the region’s premier destination for luxury interior furnishings and featured more than three hundred and fifty thousand square feet of showrooms. Serena had been there when she’d interned during college, and she and Justine, the owner of Shift, had also visited on occasion.
“I could get lost in BDC,” Chiara said as they entered her office. “I went there once with Laura, one of the junior interior designers you’ll be supervising, just to check it out. I have no idea how designers can choose from all the selections there.”
Serena was still a little shocked that she was going to be supervising a team of two. She couldn’t imagine not having her hands on every piece of the design process, but Suzanne had reassured her that she’d never feel like she wasn’t in control.
“Let’s get the paperwork out of the way first.” Chiara set her up at a desk with a ton of paperwork, an employee handbook, and a designer’s code of conduct booklet, which seemed to be the ABCs of ethics for designers.
That should come in handy on the nights she couldn’t sleep.
Almost three hours later, after a not-so-brief orientation meeting and a tour of the fifteenth floor, they finally stepped off the elevator on the fourteenth floor. While the thirteenth floor, where clients entered, was decked out in calming and elegant earth tones, and the executive suites were even more luxurious, though a bit too drab for Serena’s taste, the fourteenth floor was alive with color and activity.
“Welcome to your new home,” Chiara said as she led her through the office. She pointed out the coffee room, conference area, and the resource room, which had catalogs, brochures, fabric swatches, and more. Light hardwood floors and glass walls on the exterior offices gave the space an open, airy feel. “As you can see, this floor is set up for collaborating.”
“Yes. The work flow is perfect.” Serena took in the U-shaped workstations, each boasting a splash of color on chest-height privacy screens. Designers were bent over their desks, talking on the phone, working on plans, or leafing through catalogs. Across the room, a woman and a man stood before a whiteboard, hashing out design elements. There was a vibrant hum of activity, just as she’d imagined.
“Your office is the second from the right.” Chiara led her to a group of people gathered around a table discussing design elements. “Hi, guys,” Chiara said. “This is Serena Mallery, our new senior interior designer.”
Serena recognized three of them from the elevator that morning.
