Success doesn't
come to you…
you
go to it.
- Marva Collins
- She was killing his image. Giorgio prided himself on not just being the best in the advertisement industry but also looking the best. Most, if not all of his workers looked the part needed to win and keep clients. The only downfall in his company came in the guise of his secretary. At nineteen Giorgio understood what she needed. The woman needed someone to take her by the hand and show her just what it meant to be a woman in the work place. Giorgio didn’t have time for that sort of foolishness. It’s the reason he let one of the women in the office set everything up for her. Using the masquerade party as the excuse seemed to go over well with the young woman. He didn’t really care what worked once he got his way. Giorgio had no idea what was going on in the bathroom where the lady gathered her tools for what she’d labeled, an office makeover. Not wanting to put a damper in her mood he only smiled nodded and then got the hell out of her way. The woman seemed to bring an artillery when she walked in that afternoon. He felt a tinge of remorse for the Aubrey. Didn’t last long though! The advertisement industry was all about image if you didn’t have it you didn’t get the job. And, his motto was get the job.
The past three years, Giorgio managed to steal some high end jobs increasing the reputation of his company with stellar marketing commercials and promotions. People were beginning to notice Show. INC He’d have it no other way. After graduating from one an Ivy League college on the east coast; Giorgio spent most of his time hustling to put together his company. He’d started out small. Managed to meet a few graphic artist, promotional geniuses and here he was three years later working his way to the top. Proud. Ha mild word to use for what he felt. Giorgio was ecstatic with the growth which was why he went so far not only with his clients but also with those he employed. The employer was only as good as the work he got out of his employers. And he demanded the best. Today was an indication of that. Giorgio saw this makeover as not only a boost for the company’s image but also for this girls image as well. Why she hid behind those outdated bland clothes were beyond him. He paid her well enough that she could afford better. Still the woman stubbornly refused to improve her look. He’d even dropped some magazines onto her desk in hopes she’d start picking up hints. Nothing worked, no Elle, no Glamour, Seventeen, Comso, Lucky. Hell, Giorgio didn’t know there were so magazines for women until he’d been forced to buy them for this secretary.
If he hadn’t been so impressed with her efficiency and her genuine knack for the job, he’d have let her go a while ago. Not to mention the clients loved the way she learned their names and ‘cared’ for them. Giorgio liked her dedication the fact that she was young only meant she had lots of room to grow. Investing in people showed them you were interested and they’ll invest in you. Or, so his father told him when he begun the hiring three years ago. So far the old man had been right about that. The more he invested in his workers the more they invested in the company. Giorgio hoped this would continue. He didn’t want the company to expand so much that the job became overwhelming. People that that was odd, that he didn’t want his business to be tumbling over in success. Giorgio told them as he’d been told when he was younger. Success isn’t always about chasing behind money. Sometimes you just want to be that company that supplies that job that someone is happy to wake up in the morning and come to. And, if that happens then you can be sure your clients will be happy doing business with you. Besides, sometimes you win and sometimes you loose. He’d rather take his time winning than hitting a few wins in between the losses.
Afternoon danced on the papers laid out on his desk and before he knew it a knock on the door told him it was time for him to leave. Glancing at his watch Giorgio sighed with pent up frustration, “s**t. Well….tomorrows another day.” Leaving the papers scattered across the desk he grabbed his jacket and headed home. He had a few hours to get himself ready and that wasn’t going to happen at the office. Giorgio thought about knocking on the door to the bathroom but decided against it. Better for him to be surprised by the result. He’d been manipulated into watching those makeover shows enough to know you were suppose to be ‘shocked’ by the end result. If he went barging in now he’d be ruining everything. Walking over to the door he knocked, “ You’re alone ladies. Enjoy yourselves. See you at the ball…..” Giorgio was sure he’d be able to pinpoint all of his employees at the ball. He was just that good.
Forty minutes give or take found him walking into his apartment loft. The place suited his needs. There was no great view looking over the city. Instead, his apartment loft was in a ‘decent’ part of town not overly expensive. While the outside may not be lavish; the interior was exquisitely decorated by a former client and lover. The two were still very familiar with each other, though no standing commitment was made by either party. Both enjoyed the pleasures of the single life too much to commit. His love for the single life was painted in the décor placed with the upmost skill and care around the apartment. Giorgio’s home spelt bachelor pad. Normally he would enjoy a scotch before the only bay window available to him in his apartment loft. Time would not permit him this luxury. Instead he found himself glancing at his watch once more before moving towards his bedroom to prepare himself for the evening’s festivities.
Getting ready for the event took another forty…to fifty minutes give or take. Giorgio had to rid himself of the day’s work. A long shower permitted him that luxury. His clothing for the night came once he’d seen to all that had to be taken care of in the bathroom; shaving, singing and all sorts of simple pleasures. When he was ready he picked up the mask he had commissioned for this evening’s event. It was nothing like what he normally wore. He hoped it would serve to fool a few people this evening. Normally, he was the first person spotted. Then again he was rather hard to miss. With a grin he headed for his car and then back to the job. Traffic was not as bad heading back in town as it had been getting out. He got to office in twenty-five minutes flat. Of course he sped. Who wouldn’t on an empty highway? By the time he arrived. The ball commenced. It was no surprise to him. The office didn’t stand on formalities for these sorts of events. They didn’t need him to begin the party. From what he was witnessing they were capable of doing that themselves.
