Stepping into the dry interior of Rutherford & Lennar, LLP, she handed her coat to the waiting doorman, and tipped the man with the black umbrella standing outside in the pouring rain. Brushing off what she perceived to be a drop of rain from her blazer, she made her way across the lobby. The polite-looking blonde that sat at the receptionist’s desk straightened her back immediately and mechanically handed her a venti freshly brewed Pike Place Roast with one-eighth of a cup of low-fat creamer, thirteen grains of sugar, and a sprinkle of paprika. Without a sideward glance, she took her breakfast and turned into the elevator, which had been waiting for her to arrive for over twenty minutes.Strutting out of the elevator and into the office, Madam Kapitän shushed the whispers that floated between cherry-wood desks with every click clack of her glossy stilettoes on the polished marble floor. Interns cleared the way, scattering into the shadows of the office like sewer rats that had been disturbed from their feeding off others’ leftovers. A busy-looking lanky man in one of the center desks stood up with a stack of tax returns and walked into the main corridor, only to look up at her with a twitching eye and take a sharp right turn face-first into the filing cabinets. Someone in the corner cubicles let out a whimper that sounded strikingly like that which an injured rabbit would make if it were about to die.
She stopped abruptly, disregarding the terrified expressions on the faces of two recently hired college graduates, and turned around directing herself toward the conglomeration of cubicles. Without lifting her voice or looking at anyone in particular, she addressed everyone.
“Taurus & Germen are expecting their history of returns tomorrow. I’m expecting them no later than today at 1300 hours on my desk, in four manila envelopes, each labeled with the proper year, initialed by the CPA and signed by the supervisors.”
The sound of her voice traveled to the lunchroom and the newest partner of the accounting firm almost choked on a cold piece of toast. She was near. The laughing ceased at once in the copy room, everyone shuffling around to look productive, putting on somber expressions as the smell of her perfume filled the room, sending them into a spiraling panic.
Passing every office and finally reaching hers, she nodded at a tall, sober dark man. She walked into the office first and he followed, detailing every minute of her day, reminding her of the tasks that were scheduled for completion at every hour, and the incoming appointments that needed to be taken care of. Following along on her electronic planner, she handed him various binders and a navy blue folder. She dismissed him and he closed her door on the way out. When they heard the lock click, people started appearing slowly from their hiding places behind bookshelves, stacks of returns, computers; between fake plants, curtains; under desks and chairs. A sigh of relief escaped a balding man in one of the front cubicles. Faces started popping up and out of their work spaces, looking at each other in awe, not believing they were still alive.
