My Magazine Ch. 03

A short thin lady wearing a granny-print dress which was appropriate, as she appeared to be granny age, with glasses on a black cord around her neck hanging over her chest, entered the room and called to the only two persons in the waiting room, "Which one of you is Mr Wiggins?"

Jenni and Ron smothered their laugher while the poker-faced recruitment clerk waited for a response.

Ron rose and announced he was Ron Wiggins. The clerk turned and walked away so he assumed that was an unspoken invitation to follow her.

"Nice meeting you Jenni. I don't suppose we will see each other again as in large newspapers the editorial staff are quite isolated from office staff. This is because newspaper bosses have a pathological fear that randy male journalists will run amok with their corralled office females."

"Oh, I think we will see each other again, and quite soon," Jenni smiled.

"Good luck in the recruitment process and you better hurry and catch up to Miss Personality."

Ron chucked, and waved before disappearing through the doorway.

They met again an hour later when Jenni was led in by an editorial assistant and placed in a desk next to Ron.

He gaped and when the assistant left he asked, "Are you a trained reporter?"

"Yes Ron but don't let that over-awe you. Let's become good friends."

Jenni smiled recalling that Ron struggled as a reporter while she shone. He was transferred to the business news section and a year later went upstairs on promotion to the planning and new business section on invitation when his quick mind for figures and innate understanding of complex financial matters and ability to write accurate reports had come to the attention of management.

Ron and Jenni remained in contact and four years later, a year after Ron went to London, at his suggestion Jenni applied for a vacancy on one of Zephyr Media's magazine. Ron was the company's building maintenance manager and was studying business management part-time to add to his qualifications.

Jenni was pulled out of reminiscing by a knock on the door. It was Rhonda her PA.

"Have you eaten?"

"No I thought I'd skip dinner."

"I thought as much you naughty woman," Rhonda scolded and held out a shopping bag she was carrying.

"It's Chinese sweet and sour pork for two. Am I invited in?"

"Yes of course," Jenni said, opening the door wider.

"How sweet of you."

Jenni lived in a block of twelve flats, three on each level – called the Silverstream Apartments, named after the developer's birthplace of Silverstream in Upper Hutt, Wellington. He was another New Zealander doing well in the UK.

Her two-bedroom apartment on the ground floor had a garage for one vehicle plus off-street parking for another. A two-level lounge/dining room had a views of rooftops down on the slope to tree tops in parkland. The kitchen/laundry was equipped with modern appliances and both bedrooms had en-suites.

When Rhonda left Jenni reflected on having Rhonda arriving the next day as planned to set up office around the dining table of the apartment. Jenni was pleased about that temporary arrangement as sometimes living alone could lose its appeal a little, particular when one was stressed. She was stressed right now and expected that the pressures contributing to that affliction were likely to continue quite relentlessly for some week if not months as she worked on the launch of her business.

Obviously having someone compulsively chatty close-by would be beneficial, she thought, but she would have to find other activity to divert her mind during her free time.

Rhonda and Jenni had come together by sheer chance. Jenni had a temporary PA who was pining to return to her permanent nest within the company. That temp was out for lunch one day when Jenni was on the phone and she heard her PA's phone start ringing; the temp have forgotten to switch calls through to editorial when leaving her station. But the ringing suddenly stopped, making Jenni think it must have been a wrong number call.

The outside phone went again, and again the same thing happened.

When Jenni went out to investigate there was a courier waiting at the desk.

"Hi," she greeted Jenni. "I guess you are Miss Giles. I was waiting for your receptionist to return to sign for this delivery. I would have knocked on your door but then the phone went and diverted me."

"You took those two calls?"

"Yes, the phone should have been left on diversion shouldn't it? One never knows how important a telephone call could be. It might be a lover asking for a lunchtime meeting, if only we could be so lucky."

Jenni smiled, thinking what a character.

It turned out that Rhonda, who worked for her father's courier company, had taken both messages. Her notations she gave to Jenni were in neat handwriting with the names of the callers, nature of the calls, return call details and times the caller would be available to take the return call.

"I must race – if I'm not back at the depot when expected my dad will fire me."

Jenni made one of those impulsive decisions that everyone should perhaps consider when the bells begin ringing inside their head.

"Look would you like to come back to see me when you finish work today. I shall be here until sevenish. I would like to talk to you about the possibility of working with me."

"Wowee Miss Giles. My name is Rhonda and I love being propositioned about anything. I'll call around 5:45. Must go - bye."

* * *

Jenni heard the cheery beep from the blue VW Beetle as Rhonda arrived, a stylish car absolutely suited for its effervescent female driver.

She opened the door and Rhonda came through puffing slightly, carrying the rather heavy older style desktop computer.

"Oh, this will be a perfect set-up for when I get everything laid out to my satisfaction."

Jenni thought what a lovely positive response from somebody who'd been thrown out of her regular office situation and still had two more relocations ahead of her before they were settled. It did not occur to her that Rhonda might have similar positive thoughts about Jenni's personality and the attitudes she projected.

"Can we talk right now?" Rhonda asked.

"Wouldn't you rather complete setting up first?"

"No because if we work on establishing priorities of what you wish me to do over the next couple of days, I can then begin thinking about the top two priorities while I'm lugging my things in – and you need to be leaving to nose out new temporary premises for us."

They worked quickly in competent familiarity. From the list drawn up, Jenni's original Number One priority remained unchanged – Rhonda should start on building up lists of the required hardware, software, provisions and services to enable the team to function as a complete business unit.

Jenni asked, "That's a massive task – should I engage a temp to assist?"

"No having a bimbo under my feet will only slow me down."

"Bimbo is a demeaning word to use Rhonda."

"That's true but it's a neat name for them eh!"

Jenni took Rhonda on a tour of the apartment that ended in the spare bedroom.

"This is neat with its own bathroom. I could shift in here for a few days and then work till I drop – yeah, why don't you invite me to do that?"

"I have no intention of allowing you to drive yourself excessively Rhonda."

Rhonda with the blue eyes and silvery blonde hair inherited from her part-Swedish mother stared coolly at Jenni, having also inherited an independent streak.

"You usually leave me to make my own decisions about my approach to my personal management Jenni."

Smart Jenni interpreted the warning single loud and clear, and seamlessly switched into uncaring neutral.

"Of course, Rhonda; how forgetful of me."

"Make yourself at home and come and go as you please. Here's my spare key and the alarm code is 2469. The bed is ready for you and the isolating switch for the spa bath is high up the wall behind the bathroom door. Any questions before I go?

"You mean I can stay?"

"Of course. I expect to be home about 4:00 but one can never be certain. Bye."

More Coming