By the time Mr. Weselton twelve-thirty rolled around, Anna had finally stopped feeling like a chicken with its head cut off. She had cleared the tampons off her desk, figured out how to use three programs on the computer without calling Olaf or Kristoff, and had even taken the time to browse through the Weselton file.
Duke Weselton of Weselton Inc. owned a small chain of hotels throughout North America and Europe, all of which catered to extremely rich, snooty people who wanted to go to on vacation without having to deal with stupid things like poor people. Silk sheets, limo service, hot tubs in every room, personal maids. She nearly choked on her lunch-time sandwich when she read how much rooms cost a night. Started at a night.
His business had been declining for a few years – wonder why that is? Not. – and the two companies were planning on a friendly merger. Arendelle Corp was hoping to assimilate it into it's own branch of luxury hotels that focused more on the travel experience – really getting into the culture, adventure packages and all that – than on avoiding contact with the locals. Today was a friendly meeting to outline the company's initial proposal and discuss any potential sticking points.
After lunch Anna went to go set up the meeting room. It was like one straight out of a movie – the table was big enough for at least forty people. The chairs were high-backed, on wheels and leather. One wall was completely tinted glass, looking out on a stunning vista of the city. A large screen covered one wall.
It felt like they should be having a top secret meeting about national security in that room, not playing real-life monopoly.
She set down her laptop at the end of the table closest to the screen. According to the 'shit-to-do file' it was her job to bring the proposal up on that screen remotely from her laptop and to flip through the pages when needed. Easy-peasy, she thought, setting up the laptop. It was nice to finally come across some piece of technology that she knew how to use already. She'd started to feel like she'd entered an alien world.
She got a pitcher of water and put coffee on. Rather than the regular Styrofoam cups, there was a set of high quality china mugs with beautiful willow patterns. She got out five and set them up at one end of the table – no need to spread them all out when it was such a small meeting.
She was just putting out sugar and cream when someone from front desk showed Duke Weselton and his two assistants into the room.
Anna's first impression of Mr. Weselton was that he was a human version of a yorkie. His moustache covered his entire mouth. Mr. Weselton was a tiny man with a large nose and white hair. His spectacles dwarfed his face while making his nose look all the larger.
She would not have been surprised if he started yapping like a terrier.
"Good afternoon," Anna said pleasantly, offering a hand to him. "I'm Ms. Arendelle's personal assistant, Anna Summers." She was determined that she wouldn't bring up anything that could be even the slightest bit offensive to anyone. She had even refused to watch or read the news of the weekend in preparation.
"Good afternoon!" He replied, seizing the offered hand. He shook it vigorously, crushing her fingers slightly. "Pleasure to meet you. Is Ms. Arendelle here?" he looked around shiftily, as if thinking Elsa might pop out of the curtains.
"She's just finishing up some work in her office. She'll be along in a moment."
Anna hoped she wasn't lying. She hadn't seen Elsa for the rest of the morning and she hadn't come out at lunch time. But there were still five minutes to one... she glanced anxiously at the door.
"You know, you remind me of someone I met once," Mr. Weselton said, peering at her through his glasses.
"Oh?" She tore her gaze away from the door, to return his gaze. Elsa would come, she assured herself.
"Yes. She was a beautiful young lady, worked in one of my hotels as a coat checker."
"Mmmm," Anna said blankly. Was she supposed to be flattered that she made him think of a coat checker?
"One could call her a belle-hop!" He waggled his eyebrows.
Anna laughed. It was a terrible joke, but she had a thing for terrible jokes. Mr. Weselton's eyes sparkled at her reaction.
"Ah, got you with that one, didn't I? Yes, I always know how to tell a good joke."
He pulled out his chair and sat down, making himself comfortable. Behind him, his two assistants rolled their eyes. In unison.
"You need to know jokes in this business, you know?" Mr. Weselton continued. "Back when my father ran one hotel out of Montreal, I helped by entertaining the guests. I was always the star of the evening!"
"I'm sure you were," Anna said. She got the coffee pot and began to pour it out. Mr. Weselton added the tiniest amount of sugar to his coffee. He inspected the spoonful before letting it rain slowly into his cup. He stirred it exactly ten times in both directions before taking a sip.
"A man wrote a letter to to my father once, when he was planning on visiting our hotel. It wasn't uncommon in those days, you realise, to have to write ahead. Post boxes everywhere, now it's all emails and text messages – bah! Anyway, he asked about his dog. He said "'I would very much like to bring my dog with me. He is well-groomed and very well behaved.'"
Anna listened politely, settling down in her chair and beginning to add liberal amounts of sugar to her own coffee – she didn't really like the stuff. She had no idea where he might be going with this story. One of Mr. Weselton's assistants had her head in her hand. The other was staring at the ceiling.
"My father thought about this a bit, and wrote back a reply almost at once. He would be delighted to let the dog in his hotel, he said. He'd been operating that hotel for many years. In all that time, he never had a dog steal towels, bedclothes, silverware or pictures off the walls. Never had to evict a dog in the middle of the night for being drunk and disorderly. And never had a dog run out on a hotel bill. Yes, indeed, his dog was welcome at our hotel. And, he said, if the dog would vouch for his owner, he'd be welcome to stay, too."
He finished with a flourish of his hand and Anna erupted into laughter. Beside her, the assistant took her head out of her hands and stared at Anna in disbelief. The other sighed. Mr. Weselton joined in laughing at his own joke.
The door opened. They all looked around as Elsa walked in, her laptop under one arm and a steaming mug in the other. "Good afternoon, Mr. Weselton," she said, giving a curt nod.
She ignored the cluster of prepared seats and sat down at the other end of the table.
"I would like to go over a few points on page ten with you, if you don't mind. I think that-"
"Excuse me?" Mr. Weselton interrupted. He cupped a hand over an ear. "I can't quite hear you."
Elsa flushed slightly, then spoke again, her voice louder this time, "I would like to go over a few points on page-"
Mr. Weselton was shaking his head, hands cupping both ears now.
"Maybe it would be better if you came and sat over here, Ms. Arendelle?" Anna tried, delicately. She patted the seat beside her and smiled warmly. What was with Elsa?
Elsa's hands balled up into fists and her face turned a deeper red. She looked distressed almost, like Anna's offer caused her physical pain. She looked down at her laptop and said, "No, thank you, I'm fine." She cleared her throat, then raised her voice louder. She was almost shouting at them down the table. "On page ten, there are a number of issues about employee compensation that-"
Anna sighed. She gave a quick glance at Mr. Weselton. He was looking mortified.
Well, she couldn't possibly mess this meeting up any more than Elsa was.
She stood up, walked down to the other end of the table until grabbed Elsa' chair by the back and pulled.
"Wait – What?" Elsa grabbed at her laptop as Anna wheeled her down the long room. "I'm fine over there – Ms. Summers...!"Anna ignored her and pushed her into a place right beside herself, right across from Weselton.
"There, that's better," Anna said, sitting down in her own place. Everyone was staring at her. Elsa still had her laptop clutched to her chest. She had the same shell shocked expression on her face that she had had that morning. Anna clicked through the document on her laptop and turned to Mr. Weselton, "Now, Mr. Weselton, if we look at the screen, we can go over page ten. I believe there were some issues that Arendelle Corp wanted to clarify before we continued with our negotiations."
Elsa stayed tense the whole meeting. Getting comments out of her felt something like pulling teeth – Anna couldn't understand what was wrong with her. She was paying attention – she kept typing notes on her laptop every time Mr. Weselton spoke, but she didn't seem to have a lot to add. It felt like their positions were switched, with Elsa being the secretary and Anna the boss, which was a really awful idea because Anna knew nothing about running a company.
When Elsa did speak up, it felt like she was hurling insults at Mr. Weselton.
"I see that you don't have any policies in place for educational improvement," she said sharply as they reviewed the Weselton employee benefits package. It was horribly sparse, Anna noticed. But she wouldn't have said it so bluntly – she'd learned her lesson about being honest.
"Of course not – that's not my prerogative, is it?" Mr. Weselton snapped. He raised a finger and shook it dramatically. "Can't have my employees wandering off with my hard earned money." Anna blinked – it was like his cheerful demeanour had been shoved away in a drawer.
Elsa glowered. Her fingers were drumming on her laptop. She opened her mouth to speak.
"I think our main concern," Anna said quickly. What was she doing? She had no idea what she was talking about. All she knew is she couldn't let Elsa speak with that look on her face, so she started to babble whatever came into her head. "Is job improvement within the company. Internal promotions are an excellent way to keep good talent where it's needed, but very often this requires training that is outside of the employees immediate means."
She held her breath. Elsa was staring at her. Mr. Weselton's brows knit in concentration.
"Yes..." he said slowly, "I can see your point, Ms. Summers. Yes. I think we can negotiate on that point."
She breathed out and sat back in her chair. Elsa was still staring at her like she'd never seen her before. She looked almost... impressed. Maybe it was a trick of the light.
At the end of the meeting, Anna felt like she had played the most exhausting tennis match of her life. And She didn't even play tennis. Elsa continued to type on her computer even as Mr. Weselton stood and stretched, a big smile on his face.
"I must say, Ms. Summers, that you are a talented young lady – as well as beautiful." Anna thought Elsa lost the rhythm of her typing for a moment.
She smiled, ducking her head. "Thank you very much, Mr. Weselton."
"Ms. Arendelle, I absolutely insist that you bring this gem with you to the party on Friday." Elsa definitely twitched, her fingers pressing multiple keys at once. She hit the backspace furiously before turning around to look at them.
"Party?" Anna asked.
"Oh, it's our fiftieth anniversary over at Weselton. Having a big to-do to celebrate and to announce the official merger plan. You have to say you'll be there."
She glanced at Elsa. She was paler than normal and her face was stoney.
"If she must," she said.
Anna smiled. "I'd love to."
At five O'clock, Anna switched off her computer and stretched. Not a bad first day, after she had stopped spazing like a maniac. Elsa had almost seemed impressed with her after the meeting. Almost. She'd said a stiff 'thank you' on the way to sequestering herself in her office again. She still wasn't sure Elsa was capable of being impressed, or of smiling.
Anna was going to go home, eat a can of ravioli and watch a movie in her underwear. Maybe unpack a box if she felt like being productive. Probably not.
She was halfway home on the subway when her phone – that is, her iphone - buzzed.
Hope you're not too tired after work. Pick you up in an hour?
She stared at the unknown number. Pick you up in an hour? Who-
Hans. Hansom Hans.
"Shit!"
A bunch of heads turned to look at her. She blushed. "Sorry," she said, crouching over her phone.
Can't wait – she texted back. Dammit, she'd completely forgotten.
When she reached her stop, she tore up the steps pushing people out of the way all the way back to her apartment.
I can't believe I forgot. She dropped her keys, her phone, and three sugar packets trying to unlock her door.
Looking in the mirror, Anna felt her reflection was screaming at her. I AM AN OFFICE WORKER. BORING AS SHIT DATE AHEAD.
No one would think she was attractive with her hair in the laziest bun ever and the blouse she had put on – sure, green was her colour, but it was so boring.
Shake hair out, brush.
Rather than turn into the sleek waves that occasionally made an appearance, her hair frizzed out. She looked like a lion.
"Roar," she said to her reflection, pouting. She glanced at her watch.
She had fifteen minutes. Not enough time to wash her hair. She pulled it back into its loose bun.
Her clothes – Anna stared at her box of clothes for a whole precious minute. What did you wear on a date with a high powered executive? Not stuff that you brought for a regular work week where your only after work plans involved canned ravioli. She didn't even have cute underwear with her.
He was probably going to take her on a date to someplace where not only could you make reservations, but had to make reservations. The kind of place with a dress code, and a menu without the prices listed. Anna had work clothes, and sweat pants. Even if she did have all her clothes here, she did not have anything that said 'sophistication' or even 'grown up and sexy'.
Why had Hans asked her out?
She wished she had half the sophistication Elsa had. - man, she knew how to dress to kill. She looked distinguished but sexy as hell. Anna would bet that she had an army of cocktail and evening dresses that would make others spontaneously combust from the sexy.
She wasted another minute imagining Elsa in a sexy dress.
She looked at the clock. Five minutes.
In desperation she grabbed a pair of black pants, white tank top, and a lacy, see-through jacket in dark purple. She was just shoving her feet into a pair of strapy black heels when the buzzer rang. She peeked in the mirror quickly.
Now her outfit was saying "Hi, my name is Anna and I am INCREDIBLY BORING!"
But at least she'd lost the 'office worker'. She grabbed her purse and flew out the door.
And slammed into Hans. He toppled over, landing on his butt in the hallway.
"Sorry! Sorrysorrysorry-" She helped him straighten up then stepped back. Hans looked utterly bemused. She grinned apologetically. "Hello."
"Hi." He gave a winning smile. His hair was still as perfect as it had been that morning, but his clothes had changed. Instead of the well groomed suit and tie, he was wearing a casual sports jacket over a t-shirt and jeans. Everything was extremely well fitting.
"Oh, wow, you're beautiful," she said. Crap. Why did I say that? "I mean – sorry, I didn't mean you're beautiful. Not that you're not beautiful I just should have said-"
He held up a hand, smiling. "Thanks, you're beautiful as well."
She blushed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She looked at his t-shirt. What at first had appeared to be an artistic design turned out to be a duck.
Bellow it were printed the words "What the duck?"
She snorted. Hans followed her gaze.
He smirked and tugged self-consciously at the edge of his T-shirt.
"So, I don't know what you were expecting out of a date with me," he said. He scratched at his nose, adorably embarrassed, "but there's this band that's playing, I don't know if you've heard of them but they're my favourite-"
He pulled out two tickets from the pocket of his sports coat.
"No way!" Anna said. She grabbed at his arm, trying to get a closer look. "You have tickets to Unfaithful Timeline?"
The band had been her favourite since university. They were local, punk-rock, and just a little bit absurd. "You've heard of them?" Hans asked.
"Are you kidding?" She clapped her hands, doing a little dance of happiness. "They're my favourite!"
The date was fairy tale perfect. The band was amazing. Hans was funny and charming and didn't even mind when she smacked him in the face while moshing. Afterwards he took her to a funky dive-bar place that turned out to serve organic, local burgers and sandwiches. They both ordered the club and kept stealing from each others plates.
"You hit it off with Ms. Arendelle yet?"
"You're joking right? There's not a person on the planet who could 'hit it off' with her. She really is the Ice Queen." She set her sandwich down. It was mostly gone – she'd given up on eating like a lady after Hans had eaten a quarter of his sandwich in one bite.
"Nah. Execs are real people too, you know," he said, grabbing for her sandwich. She glared at him as he took a big bite out of it. She swiped his pickle.
"We'll she's antisocial or something. Or she hates me." It occurred to her that she probably shouldn't be talking to Hans like this. He was a vice-president, after all. He could go to all the tops in the company and tell them how she was talking negatively about her boss.
But, inexplicably, she trusted him. Maybe it was because he promoted her, knowing what her mouth was capable of.
Or maybe it was the hair. You couldn't mistrust someone with hair that amazing.
"I don't think so," he said. "She doesn't hate you. Elsa's just a tough nut to crack."
She ate the rest of her sandwich, considering this. As far as she could tell, there was absolutely nothing about her that would make her a better person to deal with Elsa. She looked back to Hans. "Why do you think I'm the right person for the job?"
"I can't really put my finger on it. This is probably the hardest job in the whole company. Not many people have what it takes to put up with Elsa. But you – there's just something special about you. I think you can do it."
She smiled. He wasn't really giving her a reason, but it was comforting all the same. Hans just seemed to know what to say. He finished his sandwich and sat back, his eye caught by the t.v. in the corner. He ran a hand through that fabulous hair of his, laughing at whatever was happening on the screen, then turned back to her.
She realised that she was gazing at him with a dopey expression on her face. But then, he was looking at her with the same expression.
Authory notes go at the bottom, yes? Anyway, I can't believe how much love this fic is getting. Over 150 followers after two chapters? Mind blown.
Thank you for all your lovely comments. I'm not very good about replying individually, but every single one makes me do a happy dance. Can't wait for chapter 4 - so much awkward Elsa on the way.
Cheers,
Capt. Elfy
