Interpreter Fumble

By the time Jessica shows up to work, it’s nearly noon, but it’s obvious why she’s late. She got a blow out and new highlights and is dressed slightly too fancy for work, which has me wondering what new scheme she's cooked up this week.

“Hi Alexa. I hope you handled everything smoothly on your end this morning,” she says with arrogance. The way she refers to my end of things makes it seem like she handled something on her end.

I really don’t want to look into what might be afoot, but it’s my job to be Mr. Conti’s assistant, so I say, “Yes, everything went fine. How are things on your end? Do you need my help with anything?”

She flips her hair over her shoulder and I know she’s expecting a compliment, but she won’t be getting any from me. She takes her time hanging up her coat before responding, “As you can see, I’m all ready for tonight, so no worries there. I’ll just need you to call to confirm the reservation.”

“I’m sorry. What reservation?” I ask, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I quickly pull up Mr. Conti’s schedule and see a business dinner between him and Mr. Losange. The French client that Mr. Conti was currently with.

Before I ask Jessica any follow-up questions, I call the restaurant to confirm the restaurant to find that the reservation is for four instead of two. I quickly pull up my copy of Mrs. Losange’s schedule that her assistant sent to see that she had reservations at a different restaurant with a friend of hers.

When Jessica leaves the room to go who knows where, I quickly call that restaurant to find out that the reservation has been cancelled. From there, I try to call their assistant in France, but because of the time change, she’s not available.

Damn. Jessica’s done it again.

When Jessica returns I don’t say anything. I act normal and let her know that the reservation is confirmed.

Unfortunately, Mr. Conti is in a very important meeting, so I know I can’t interrupt him for this. I simply have to wait and worry until he’s finished.

When he finally strides into his office at 4pm Jessica makes a show of standing in a perfect position to show off her outfit.

Mr. Conti draws to a stop close to my desk, immediately sensing something is up and mutters, “What’s happening?”

“Sir, Jessica canceled Mrs. Losange's dinner and booked a four top for the four of you,” I say loud enough, so Jessica can hear.

Mr. Conti, slowly turns to face Jessica head on, and I see her confidence waver for a moment before she pulls herself together.

“Sir, Mrs. Losange's friend canceled and since she was joining you, I thought it would be best if I came along. She doesn’t really speak English, and I’ve been working on my Italian. I can play host to her while you talk to Mr. Losange,” she says sweetly. Everyone in the room knows she made sure to cancel Mrs. Losange’s reservation. It wasn’t just luck.

Mr. Conti stays calm and coldly says, “I speak Italian fluently, why would I need you there? And the Losanges are French, not Italian.”

The silence that fills the room as what Mr. Conti said settles on Jessica is heavy. She’s really put her foot in it this time.

She fumbles to find words as she says, “Well…I could, well I guess… the languages are similar… I could try.”

I roll my eyes since my boss isn’t facing my way and say, “They aren’t similar enough for you to have a conversation. I speak French and when my parents took me to Italy, other than understanding some words here and there, nothing made sense.”

Mr. Conti looked at me with his assessing, stern expression, but I was more preoccupied with the daggers Jessica was sending my way. If looks could kill, I would be six feet under.

“You speak French?” Mr. Conti asks.

“Yes,” I respond, trying to look away from Jessica’s hateful stare but feeling too threatened to take my eyes off her.

My. Conti subtly steps between us to break off our starring contest and says, “Cancel whatever plans you have for tonight. You’ll be coming to dinner to keep Mrs. Losange busy.”

My mouth falls open in shock, then quickly shuts so hard that my teeth click loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

“Do you have a problem with that,” Mr. Conti asks. From his tone, I can tell my answer needs to be ‘no sir, I have no problem with that’.

The tension in the room is too thick for me to trust how my voice will sound if I speak, so I just nod my head no, letting him know it’s not a problem.

“Good. I trust you have the details. Be at the bar 15 minutes early. I’ll meet you there so we can welcome them together. Order whatever you want from the menu, but you are limited to one glass of wine,” he says in a business-like manner.

“Can I just drink water,” I ask with dry lips.

“If that’s all you can handle, sure. But the French look down on that, so I’d prefer you had wine,” he says, matter of fact.

“Okay. Wine it is.”

He turns from me to walk to Jessica’s desk and says calmly, “You will be reassigned to another executive on a different floor. This will be the last time you mess up my affairs. I suggest you behave more professionally with your next boss or I will need to speak to your father about ending your time here.”

With that he goes to his office, closing the door behind as if nothing has happened. I sit there stunned and Jessica looks devastated. But I don’t have time to feel bad for Jessica or be glad that I no longer have to work for her.

I need to call Tony so he can help me get dressed for tonight because I have no clue what I’m doing!