Chapter Text
Aspasia worked too hard. She’d made a lot of money with plenty to show for it, but it had cast a dark shadow over her marriage, and the problem only became worse after Perikles’ death. It was a marriage of convenience and they’d never pretended otherwise. Aspasia needed a name that carried weight, with connections to boot. Perikles needed an attractive woman on his arm who was savvy enough to dodge the traps of scandals and slander. Behind closed doors the bond they shared was far closer to friendship than romance, but she still missed him, and she plugged the gap he left behind with overtime.
She’d promised herself this new job would be a clean slate. She’d moved into a new apartment too, a beautiful penthouse with a pool, cinema, and a glossy home-gym. These rooms were meant to provide distractions, different ways to put herself first. But she was already struggling with familiar urges. She couldn’t stand to be idle.
As soon as she received permission from the CEO, she was on her way to the office. She opted for a blue designer suit with the shirt neatly tucked in. Short black heels to give her height without drawing attention. A thin gold bracelet to match her wedding ring, which she held on to for a look of integrity. She wore her dark curls down, and subtle makeup that was just enough to highlight her eyes.
The receptionists must have recognized her from the day of her interview. Odessa and Roxana, she remembered. Roxana was occupied on her computer, and her colleague was startled by the sight of her.
“Aspasia! Good afternoon,” said Odessa. “I’m afraid there’s been a miscommunication of some sort, you’re not due in until tomorrow.”
“Yes, I’m aware. I’m here for an informal visit,” said Aspasia. Odessa’s eyes drifted down to her outfit, and her face tightened with doubt. “I want to see the office on my own terms. Onboarding can be so tedious, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think anyone from HR is available. We’ll need to show you the fire exits, the toilet, the kitchen,” Odessa went on. Aspasia bit the inside of her cheek. At this point in her career, she shouldn’t have to answer to receptionists.
“If HR have any concerns, they can bring them to me in writing. I have permission from the CEO.”
“Ah,” said Odessa, deflated. “In that case, I’ll show you around myself.”
Aspasia would have preferred Roxana to offer. She had a friendlier face, and she’d known better than to argue. Now this tour would be awkward.
She followed her through the corridor, into the open-plan office. The walls were exposed brick, with sleek black tables. The décor was fashionable, but the equipment seemed to be lacking. As she walked through, she noticed a lot of the monitors were unnaturally thick, several years behind. Some desks had build-ups of sweet wrappers and empty bottles, others decorated with family photos. She noticed some people had custom chairs, made redundant by their users slouching.
Offices are all the same, she reminded herself. Just a backdrop.
She listened with interest as Odessa showed her the fire exits and ferried her between departments. There was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Accountants furiously typing through spreadsheets with coffees piling up their desks. The acquisitions team, with crisp suits and sharklike smiles. The sales team, with loud laughs and cocky swaggers. But one section of the office was conspicuously empty.
“This is Marketing, well, it should be,” said Odessa. “There’s only three of them at the minute. Two have gone for lunch, and Kleon said he’d be in a meeting.”
“Kleon Manetas,” Aspasia wondered aloud. “He’s the only board member I’ve not met yet. When will he be available?”
“Erm,” Odessa’s face flattened. “I’m not sure.”
“But he’s in a meeting,” said Aspasia. There were three conference rooms. If the receptionists couldn’t keep track of their use and occupants, it was a bad sign.
“Check the diary,” said Aspasia. “I’ll wait here.”
“Of course,” said Odessa before she hurried away.
Aspasia lingered, and walked over to a larger desk that must have belonged to Kleon. She spotted her own photo on a sheet titled ‘FOR RELEASE TO TRADE PRESS’. She picked it up and skimmed it over. An investment firm’s new director was a dull affair, really, but the piece was written with all the zeal of a football club announcing a star signing.
Kosmos Investments are delighted to confirm the arrival of Aspasia Alexaki, our new Managing Director. Following an illustrious career in the fashion industry and a meteoric rise through the world of finance, Aspasia is considered one of Europe’s leading business minds.
“I am thrilled to be joining Kosmos Investments. I have always been aware of the firm’s growing market value and vision in acquiring value-add opportunities. Most of all, I have admired the company ethos of growth and integrity."
Aspasia smirked. When she looked up, she found a woman watching her. She was tall, muscular, and attractive, with dark brown hair to match her eyes. She wore a tight black shirt, tucked into her beige trousers to accentuate her broad shoulders. She might have had her as some sort of womanizer, if not for her gormless stare.
“You’re her,” she mumbled. Her phone was slack in her hand, tilting between her fingers.
“I am.” Aspasia lowered the sheet and walked to meet her. “And you are?”
“Kassandra,” she said. There was a pause while Aspasia waited for her job title, but what she eventually said was, “I work here.” Aspasia laughed. Kassandra blinked at the stupidity of what she’d just said, then forced a pained smile.
“Did you write this?” Aspasia showed her the press release.
“Oh, yes, I did. It’s just a first draft, though, it hasn’t been approved yet.” Kassandra retreated into her chair. “That’s, well, that’s up to you. If there’s any amends you’d like, I’ll be happy to make them.”
“It’s good, by trade press standards, although perhaps I’m a little biased. I appreciate your flattery,” Aspasia said, sounding more flirtatious than she’d intended. “I see you’ve put words in my mouth.” She pointed at the false quote.
“Oh! We do that to everyone. We write the quotes and the quoted person approves them. It’s standard practice here, it’s not just your…mouth.” Another pained smile. Aspasia stifled a smile of her own.
“Then standard practice has to change. It’s not fair to make you guess at our strategies without consulting us first.”
“I’m so sorry,” Odessa’s rapid footsteps returned to interrupt them. “I can’t find him anywhere. He’s not in the diary, not in any of the communal spaces. I called him twice, and he’s just told me he’s at the dentist.”
“Put him in the diary, then. I want to speak to him first thing tomorrow.”
Aspasia walked away, maintaining a stern exterior. But the marketer’s floundering had amused her more than it should have. She looked back over her shoulder to see her still in her chair, with her head in her hands. Somehow, she sensed that Kassandra’s torment was far from over.