Negotiation Skills

Balancing the croissant on the coffee mug, Anabel carefully made her way over the grey carpet floor to her desk. The left hand held a thermos, shaking slightly under the weight of the slippery metal bottle. Her fingers cramped.

Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Just a few more steps.

Her right hand fought with the far too warm handle of the mug. Sweaty fingers desperately clawed the handle to get a hold on the smooth surface. Anabel breathed in to steady her hands and steps. Her gaze focused on the carpet, which almost looked like the underpass to the train station. Just like there, she didn’t want to know the origins of the various traces.

- “Morning Anabel!”

The sudden greeting made the hot coffee slush up the walls of the mug, soaking the bottom of the croissant. Anabel’s focus shifted. She lifted her eyes and nodded.

“Morning Frank. Early again?”

She stopped despite knowing that the coffee would make her croissant soggy by the time she reached her desk.

Should have eaten it in the break room.

- “Just like you too. No time for breakfast?”

“Ah, you know. It was between eating at home or sleeping ten minutes more.”

A friendly smile plastered on her lips; her voice rang unnaturally high in her ears. Usually this was her customer voice, or the voice she was using to discuss important matters with the section chief.

Might already practice for the chance to work from home this week.

Grey eyebrows rose, while the dark eyes closed and his lips stretched to a sheepish grin. Obviously pleased to have an iron grip on everyone in the office. Anabel fought against rolling her eyes.

That’s what Mister Smith favors? No wonder I don’t get this promotion!

- “Completely understand you there. Well then, have a lovely start! See you later!”

He waved and Anabel almost mimicked the gesture. For a short moment, her balancing act almost reached its finale. A surprise grunt escaped her. This elicited a lopsided grin from Frank. Then they parted ways and Anabel breathed a sigh of relief.

What a morning. Can I now finally eat my breakfast? One soggy coffee croissant, please!

After a few more steps, she reached her desk and put down her charge. Then she shook both her hands, as if she had been running a relay. The responsibility of the baton finally handed over to the next runner. Pushing away the thermos to gain access to the keyboard, she brushed against the croissant. Before she could save the falling pastry, it landed in the dark brown brew and left suspicious traces on the white surface.

Shit, shit, shit!

Looking around, she used her sleeve to make the stains disappear as quickly as possible. The croissant was still drinking the coffee but there was no chance of saving it as Lilia entered the office.

- “Good morning, Anabel! You’re early again.”

“Well, just like you! Good to not be fighting alone.”

If my voice gets any higher, I might sing Mozart’s Queen of the Night.

Her sleeve now smelled faintly like coffee. There was a warm but wet sensation on her forearm. But when Lilia looked in her direction again, Anabel just nodded and ignored the disintegrating breakfast.

- “The coffee machine is finally running? What a relief!”

“Yeah. But you should hurry. It might give up after the first few cups.”

- “True. It’s always a race against time.”

With this Lilia passed her, leaving a trail of heavily sweet perfume in her wake. The perfectly pressed white blouse was like a beacon of light, brightening the dull corridor towards the break room. Standing there in her stained pullover, she allowed herself to pull a face behind the leaving colleague. Sticking out her tongue was childish but made it impossible to fight back the small smile appearing on her lips.

Then she remembered the task in front of her. Fishing out the soggy croissant, it felt heavy and uncomfortable. The corner of her mouth fell again.

Well, better than no breakfast at all.

The moment she lifted the former airy and flaky pastry slightly higher the soaked part gave way. Like the Titanic, it broke in half. Sinking to the bottom of the mug while leaving another trace of coffee on the desk.

Just my luck, just my freaking luck!

The sleeve got soaked even more. As she lacked any kind of cutlery, she grabbed two pencils and started feeling for the elusive spongy second half.

Come on. All those years of Asian take-out can’t be for nothing!

Astonishingly fast the soggy treasure was recovered. It ended in her mouth with a hint of pencil lead and eraser dust. The moment it touched her tongue she wanted to spit it out again.

Hot, hot, hot!

Opening her mouth and waving a hand in front of it, as if it might really cool down the hot coffee made her look like she was dancing.

The dance of a fool! Stupid croissant! Stupid coffee! What a way to start the day.

“I’m glad I could be of service, Mister Malone. If there are any questions, feel free to call us again.”

With a click on the red button the call ended, and Anabel rubbed her temples while pushing the microphone of her headset away from her face.

Ugh, is it lunch time yet?

A look at the right corner of her laptop screen told her she had still two hours to go. A quick look around the office revealed only the odd head of hair but mainly hunched over backs in front of flickering screens. Dull voices reached her behind her own grey wall of separation. Steven next to her was still on a call. Otherwise, she would have asked him to go on a smoke break with her. Opening her drawer carefully to not draw attention, she checked her pack of cigarettes.

Five left. I should buy some for next week.

Being a social smoker came with its benefits, but it was crucial that she had enough supply to help a colleague or a superior out. Like this her supply was steadily dwindling.

With a glance into her empty mug, she took another sip of water out of her thermos. Then another one, followed by another glance at the time.

Might just have a quick toilet break. Before I get another call.

Steven looked in her direction the moment she stood up. He made movements with his hands and mouthed ‘Smoke break?’ but she just shook her head. Questioningly, he raised his eyebrows. Instead of an answer, she pointed at the tumbler and he nodded.

“Yes, Misses Willis, I’m still there. I have your information right in front of me. Let me …”

Steven’s voice got swallowed by the various other ongoing conversations. Anabel couldn’t make out any real words. It just felt like the humming of a beehive.

I wish I could fly though. Collect some honey somewhere else.

The carpet still felt far too soft today and Anabel was convinced there were even more stains than this morning. The same way, every day, every week, every month. From desk to lavatory. From lavatory to desk. It was a routine and when she opened the door to the lavatory, she was sure it was a déjà vu. She wanted to turn around immediately. The heavily sweet smell in the air felt all too familiar. Anabel heard some splashing. She knew what she would be facing next and didn’t want to enter any of the stalls anymore. Instead, she turned, facing the mirror, staring at her pale face with its dark circles.

Woah. Should have put on more make-up. No wonder I never get promoted. I look like death!

Well, this is a rather insulting statement. I would say I wear the look far better than you.

Anabel jumped. The voice had come out of nowhere. As had the person standing next to her. If you could say person.

“What the fuck! What …!”

Oh, now we are also swearing again. I must say you tend to be quite the potty-mouth.

I must be dreaming. This … did they mix something in my coffee?

Standing next to Anabel was a very thin and pale woman.

Unusual outfit choice. Didn’t know we lifted the dress code rules.

Although the black color was appropriate office wear, the cloak with its hood pushed out of her face would definitely make her get a reprimand from the section chief.

Maybe I should warn her.

But Anabel bit her lips and instead her focus drifted from the dark circles around the woman’s eyes to the eyes instead. They were pitch-black. Bottomless. Swallowing the light. Reflecting nothing. Anabel made eye contact with them through the mirror.

Suddenly, her head started spinning. She felt like gliding down a slide of never-ending darkness. It wasn’t a gentle ride. Air was pushed out of her lungs as she sped up. Breathing got more difficult. Contrary to the outside speed, the heart beat in her chest got stronger but slower.

Rookie mistake. My bad! Stay with me!

There was a light pat on her shoulder and Anabel’s lungs filled with air again. Her heart beat got faster. Her stance stabilized. Her vision cleared.

What the heck was that? Did I just faint? No, that didn’t happen. Am I losing my mind?

Turning away from the mirror she looked at the woman next to her. The hair was ash blond almost white but had a silvery shimmer to it.

It must feel like clouds.

As if possessed, her hand raised on its own.

Well, tuttuttut. Stop that.

A small slap on her wrist made Anabel snap back. For a few seconds, she couldn’t do anything but stare at the cloaked person. There was an awkward silence in which both women just stood there. The faint sound of another person doing her business in the background. A loud groan, as if whole mountains were being moved. A splash, as if a boulder had come loose and fallen into deep water. Followed by an even louder fart, which Anabel almost felt vibrating through the floor. Immediately she snapped out of her trance. A snort escaped her. The thin bloodless lips of the other woman pulled into a grin.

“Guess at least somebody is working hard here.”

This made the eyebrows of the pale woman shoot up. The grin turned into a smile, giving Anabel the short view on a row of black teeth.

This reminds me. I’m here on business.

“Ah. So, you are a client.”

Well shit, didn’t expect that. Hope she isn’t going to rat me out. She seems quite … chill.

“I’m so sorry about my unprofessional behavior. Did you have the appointment with the big boss, I mean, Mister Smith at 10?”

Immediately the pale woman shook her head, the smile still on her lips. Anabel thought she even saw a faint rosy shine on the stranger’s cheeks.

No, no. That didn’t happen. One of my colleagues took care of that.

What does that even mean?

Anabel frowned but pushed any further thoughts aside with a shrug. Business was business. And the company needed as much of it as possible.

Not really interested in trying to find a new job in this economy.

Exactly! That’s what I’m here for. I wanted to ask if you would be interested in working for us.

“Us? You are here to … poach me? Me?”

Well, of course. My superiors have had you on their list for quite a while now.

Anabel looked at the woman again. This time the woman straightened her back slightly, puffing out her chest instead of an immediate answer. Anabel suppressed a chuckle.

Can this get any weirder? What kind of business poaches people in office restrooms?

“Do you have a business card or something? Is the office in this city? To be honest, I wouldn’t want to move again.”

Oh, you can work remote. We’re quite flexible. Wait, my business card … It must be somewhere here.

Patting with her almost bony hand over the wide cloak, Anabel heard a range of various metallic sounds. Reminding her of keys on a chain or coins of change in a pocket. Finally, she was presented with a business card. Three of its four corners were dog-eared. There was a pattern of notable brown stains in the right corner.

Huh, coffee seems to be a universal problem.

A silver scythe was printed on the left side. It shimmered as subtly as the woman’s hair.

“Synthia D. Eath. Oh, you are a Senior Manager.”

Frantically Anabel patted her pockets. For once she needed those darn name cards.

“I’m sorry. I have my business cards on my desk. I’m Anabel Ponz. Nice to meet you.”

The pleasure is all mine.

Shaking the bony hand, Anabel felt warmth spread through her. Automatically she lifted her gaze and this time there wasn’t any unexpected reaction looking into the dark bottomless pits.

“So, this job proposition. Is there an interview process? Do I send my resume to you?”

While talking, Anabel flipped the card to look at the company’s name and its address. For some reason she had trouble focusing on the writing. The more she tried the blurrier it got.

Might have to get my eyesight checked.

If you could spare some time right now, I could bring you around.

“Just like that? I’m not really prepared for an interview.”

Oh, don’t worry. It’s more of a … hm … first encounter. And as I mentioned, you’re a very interesting individual. The boss wants to establish a satisfying customer service. You would be leading the department.

This was it! The promotion she had always hoped for. She looked at the card again. The letters still didn’t want to sharpen.

Ah, fuck it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“All right. You said a first encounter. I’m in. Let me …”

Perfect. Let’s go then.